Bound by boardroom

rushing back-Damien's penthouse, the window, his hands, his offer. She'd slept in his guest room, alone, the black dress still wrinkled around her like armor. Her

lbows on the counter, his gray eyes steady. "You're different. Stubborn. Real." He paused, buttering a piece of toast with slow, deliberate strokes. "Most people just... bend." She snorted, half a laugh. "I'm not bending." "I know." His gaze flicked up, holding hers. "That's why you're still here." The air shifted, not charged like last night, but heavy with something else-connection, maybe. She took a bite of the eggs, surprised at how good they were, and he watched her, like her reaction mattered. "This is... nice," she said, softer than she meant to. "Unexpected." "Don't get used to it," he teased, but there was no bite in it. He leaned back, sipping his own coffee, and for a moment, they just sat there, eating in a silence that felt oddly comfortable. She broke it first. "You said no games. So tell me something real. About you." His jaw tensed, the mask slipping back for a second before he sighed. "Fine." He set the mug down, fingers tapping the counter. "I grew up with nothing. No family, no money. Built this-" he gest