> "You're early," Damien said, not raising his head.
> Aria set down his coffee—black, no sugar—on the desk.
> "You said six. I thought five-fifty-nine would be fine."
> He paused, then nodded once. "It is. This time."
---
Week two at CrossTech was like learning how to stay alive. Aria knew Damien's plans now, knew what he liked, and could tell what he meant when he was quiet.
But she hadn't really got to know him.
He was still cold. Still far away. Kept watching her with eyes that took in too much and shared too little.
---
At 9 a.m., Aria walked with Damien into a room full of big shots. The mood was tense.
Julian Marks was there, smiling like he wanted to win. He was the big boss at Virex Industries. Damien's foe.
"Cross," Julian said smoothly. "Still using your helper to hide?"
Damien didn't blink. "Are you still using your money friends?"
Julian's smile shook.
Aria sat quiet, wrote things down. But she kept looking at both men. There was a rough, old, and deep anger there.
After the chat, Damien gave her a folder.
"Look at this. Keep it quiet."
She read it later in the snack room. Money details. Big threats. Virex was messing with a CrossTech deal.
So this was the real fight, she thought. Not clothes. Not tech. Power.
---
That day, Lena came back, walked in with a smoothie and a grin.
"Still making it?" she asked Aria.
"Just about."
Lena sat on the sofa. "Damien's tough. But not too tough."
Aria stopped. "He's… hard to read."
Lena's look got soft. "He wasn't always so hard. After our mom passed, he changed. Shut out the world. Built up walls."
Aria nodded slow. "I catch small bits of him. They don't last long."
Lena leaned in. "Don't push. Just be there. He takes in more than he shows."
---
That night, Aria stayed late. She was fixing Damien's files when she found a drawing between the legal papers.
It was hers.
A look from her own set. Marked up. Made better.
She stared, shocked. He'd looked it over. Built on it. Valued it.
"Miss Lane."
She turned. Damien was in the door, hard to read.
"You found it."
"You… worked on this?"
He moved closer. "It had promise. Needed more form."
Aria swallowed. "You used to draw."
He didn't speak.
"I saw your stuff. It's good."
He looked away. "Doesn't matter now."
"It does."
They didn't speak for a while.
"You're not here to get me," he said at last. "You're here to help me."
Aria held his look. "Maybe I can do both."
---
The next day, a new job was on her desk: get ready for the CrossTech big night. A big show. Damien had to be there. Her real first try.
She got going—working out who would come, handling the guest list, picking looks. Lena helped, shared ideas and talk.
"You'll need a dress," Lena said. "One that shows you fit."
Aria paused. "I didn't plan to go."
Lena smiled big. "You work for him. You're going."
---
That night, Aria made a dress. Plain. Pretty. Her own.
She didn't know if Damien would like it. But she knew it felt good.
---
The big day came. Aria wore her dress—black silk, cut nice, just a bit shiny. She felt strong. Scared. Full of life.
Damien met her at the door. His eyes checked her out.
"You made that."
"Yes."
He nodded once. "It's good on you."
---
Inside, the night was full of wine, photos, and low talks. Aria stayed near, kept Damien's time, and held back the crowd.
Julian was there too, smooth and sharp.
"Miss Lane," he offered a drink. "You're too good to just assist."
Aria smiled nice. "I'm right where I should be."
Julian moved in. "If you ever want more—true design, your own way—call me."
Damien was next to her now, eyes sharp.
"She won't."
Julian smirked. "We'll see."
---
Later, Aria and Damien were outside, away from the noise.
"You did good," he said.
"Thanks."
He looked at her, eyes kinder than before. "You're different."
Aria's heart jumped. "So are you."
They were quiet. Then he looked away.
"Don't think being close means being close," he said. "This world hurts people."
Aria moved near. "Then show me how to last here."