The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 455

Chapter 200: Tension Rising-1

Damien pushed the office doors open and paused, taking in the scene before him. He hadn’t expected the atmosphere to feel so… tense.

Hudson and Cruz stood at attention, calm and collected, but their posture was stiff, as if waiting for a signal.

Ashcroft, on the other hand, was a different story. He was planted directly in front of them, eyes sharp and unyielding, the kind of look that made it feel like a duel had broken out in the middle of the room. Every subtle twitch of his jaw, every tightening of his fists suggested he was preparing for battle-except the battle wasn’t with Hudson or Cruz, it was with the situation itself.

The air felt thick, almost awkward, like the room itself was holding its breath. Damien could feel it -the quiet tension crackling between loyalty, suspicion, and unspoken rivalries.

He stepped further in, adjusting his stance, the faint click of his shoes on the floor punctuating the silence. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice calm, measured, slicing through the unease.

Hudson and Cruz offered crisp, measured nods, their professionalism unshaken. “Mr. Blackwood,” they said in unison.

Ashcroft’s gaze flickered briefly toward Damien, a flash of restrained irritation crossing his features, before he forced his attention back to the men standing before him.

Damien caught the hint in his best friend’s behavior but didn’t call it out. He wanted to see exactly what this was about, where it would lead-though he already had a suspicion why Ashcroft was acting like that. He simply stepped forward.

“Welcome,” Damien said evenly, his voice slicing through the quiet with calm authority. “I take it

introductions are unnecessary between the three of you.”

Ashcroft didn’t look impressed. Hudson and Cruz, trained to remain composed under any circumstance, didn’t flinch. The three men simply held their silence.

Damien walked toward the reception area of his office, A coffee table rested at the center, flanked by side tables beside the leather couch, with a single armchair on each side. He unbuttoned his coat, gestured for them to sit, and then eased into one of the armchairs himself.

James and Monroe fell in step behind him, standing quietly just behind, every sense alert.

Hudson glanced at Cruz and gave a subtle shake of his head, silently understanding exactly what

his partner was doing. Then he spoke.

“Mr. Blackwood,” Hudson said, inclining his head politely, his tone measured, “we’ve reviewed the

itinerary and the transport arrangements. Everything is prepared.”

Cruz mirrored him with a short, precise nod. “Masks are ready. Decoys are in place. No variables unchecked.”

Ashcroft’s eyes flicked briefly toward Damien, a flash of something unspoken crossing his face before returning to Hudson and Cruz-lingering a fraction longer on Cruz. He said nothing, but he didn’t need to; his body alone carried the warning: I’m watching you.