That evening, Amara stayed late at the office to finish her design model.
The building was nearly empty.
She didn't even notice Damian entering until his voice came from behind her.
"You're still here."
She jumped slightly.
"You scared me."
He walked over, studying the digital model on her laptop.
"You redesigned the lobby again."
"Yes."
"And?"
"And this version is better," she said confidently.
Damian leaned closer to examine the screen.
Too close.
She could feel his presence beside her. The warmth of his body. The faint scent of his cologne.
"You're right," he admitted quietly.
Amara turned to look at him.
Their faces were only inches apart.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence felt electric.
Then Damian stepped back abruptly.
"This project is important," he said, his voice suddenly colder.
"I know."
"No distractions."
Amara nodded, though she wasn't sure who he was trying to convince—her or himself.
As she packed her bag, Damian added one more thing.
"By the way… Victoria will be presenting her design tomorrow."
Amara paused.
"And?"
Damian's eyes met hers.
"I hope you're ready to fight for your place here."
But as Amara left the office, she couldn't shake the feeling that the real battle wasn't about the project.
It was about Damian.
And she was already losing control.