Days turned into weeks, and Damian's shadow loomed over every case Elena handled. Clients began pulling out, frightened by Blackthorne Enterprises' influence. She worked late every night, exhaustion gnawing at her resolve.
One evening, as she left the office, a black limousine pulled up beside her. The window lowered to reveal Damian, his expression unreadable.
"Get in," he said.
Elena hesitated. "Why would I?"
"Because you're running out of options," he said simply.
Against her better judgment, she slid into the limo. The air inside was thick with tension as they drove through the city. Damian studied her with those piercing eyes, and she hated how aware she was of his nearness.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she demanded.
"I told you," Damian said calmly. "Business."
"That's not good enough," Elena shot back.
He leaned closer, his gaze burning into hers. "Maybe I enjoy watching you fight," he said softly. "You're… interesting."
Elena's breath caught. "I'm not a game," she whispered.
Damian's lips curved into a faint smile. "No," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. "You're a challenge."
Before she could respond, the limo stopped in front of a luxurious penthouse building. "Come upstairs," Damian said, holding the door open.
Elena hesitated, then shook her head. "No. This is exactly what you want—to control me. I won't let you."
Something flickered in Damian's eyes—respect, perhaps—but he didn't press. "Very well," he said. "But my offer still stands."
As the limo drove away, Elena pressed a trembling hand to her chest. She hated that a part of her didn't want to say no.