Chapter 5 Mixed Signals

Chapter 5: Mixed Signals

The gala was not part of her job description.

"I need you there," Damian had said flatly, slipping an invitation across her desk. "7 p.m. sharp. Don't be late."

He didn't say please, of course. That would've implied he was human.

Now, as Aria stepped out of the car in a sleek black dress and heels that dared gravity, she regretted not asking for hazard pay. The Knight Enterprises Annual Gala was crawling with billionaires, power-hungry investors, and designer gowns that probably cost more than her rent.

Damian found her within minutes. He looked devastatingly sharp in a tailored black suit, all harsh lines and quiet command. His eyes swept over her like a transaction.

"You clean up," he said simply.

She arched a brow. "That was almost a compliment."

"Don't let it go to your head."

Still, his gaze lingered. Longer than it should have.

The evening blurred into formal smiles, calculated small talk, and the occasional brush of Damian's hand against her back-casual, but deliberate.

Later, as they stood alone on the balcony, Aria finally spoke. "You don't bring assistants to parties like this."

"I don't do a lot of things I've done since hiring you," he murmured, gaze fixed on the skyline.

"Why me?"

He looked at her then, jaw tense. "Because you don't flinch."

"And that bothers you?"

"No," he said, voice low. "It intrigues me."

And before she could respond, his hand brushed hers again-lingering this time.

Trouble was coming.

And they both knew it.