Damian's POV
I left Emma's apartment with a tightness in my chest I didn't like examining too closely. It wasn't pain, exactly. More like… pressure. Awareness. The uncomfortable pull of needing something I couldn't quantify.
Her.
Not in the way lesser men needed—clinging, grasping, hungry.
I needed her the way a man needs equilibrium. Needed her presence like a quiet correction to the noise my life was built upon. Needed the way she softened without weakening, resisted without pushing, rebuilt without dramatics.
Every time I saw her bent over a sketch, pencil moving with quiet purpose, I felt something inside me… settle.
But I didn't have the luxury to linger on that thought.
My afternoon was a gauntlet of meetings.
The first: a boardroom full of investors demanding a progress report on the Sterling Tower project.
The second: a tense video conference with partners in Singapore negotiating material delays.
The third: a legal review of three ongoing acquisitions.
