Elara sat on the edge of her bed, overwhelmed by the weight of the past few days. Her usually tidy apartment now felt like a prison, suffocating and confining. The once cozy space now seemed small and oppressive as her mind raced, replaying the events that had brought her to this point.

The scandal that had erupted had shattered her world. The accusation of unethical practices, the firm’s sudden withdrawal of support, the whispered conversations behind her back, all of it had come crashing down on her with a ferocity she hadn’t anticipated. She was on the brink of making partner, a milestone she’d worked tirelessly to achieve, and now it all seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment, she considered letting it go to voicemail again. But something compelled her to answer, perhaps a hope for any news that might offer a solution.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice revealing her exhaustion.

“Elara.” The deep, smooth voice on the other end was unmistakable. Her grip on the phone tightened.

“Damian Blackwood,” she stated blandly, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. “What do you want?”

“I think we both know the answer to that,” Damian replied, his tone as controlled as ever. “We need to talk. In person.”

Elara’s first instinct was to hang up. The last time she and Damian had crossed paths, it had been in a boardroom during a high-stakes negotiation that had left them both bruised and battered. The thought of seeing him again, especially now, was almost too much to bear.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she snapped, the anger rising in her chest. “Especially not now.”

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss this, Elara,” Damian advised, his voice lowering to a near whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “I have a proposition that could solve both of our problems.”

Elara paused, her curiosity aroused despite herself. Damian Blackwood didn’t make offers lightly, and if he was reaching out to her, it meant he needed something desperately. The thought of having any kind of power over him, even for a moment, was tantalizing.

“I’m listening,” she said cautiously.

“Meet me at my estate tomorrow,” Damian said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “We can discuss the details there.”

Elara wanted to refuse, to slam the door on this conversation and on Damian for good. But the nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her of her own precarious situation. If there was even a chance that Damian could help her salvage her career, she had to consider it.

“Fine,” she agreed reluctantly. “But don’t think for a second that I’m doing this for you. I’ll hear you out, and then I’ll decide if it’s worth my time.”

“That’s all I ask,” Damian answered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Elara.”

The call ended with a click, and Elara sat in silence, her mind racing. She had no idea what Damian was planning, but she knew one thing for certain—whatever it was, it wouldn’t be straightforward. Damian Blackwood was a man who thrived on control, manipulation, and power plays. And now, she was about to step into his world once again.

__

The next day, she found herself driving through the winding roads that led to Damian’s estate.

The towering trees and manicured lawns seemed to close in around her as she approached the massive iron gates that guarded his property. As they swung open, she couldn’t help but feel like she was entering a lion’s den.

Damian’s estate was as imposing as she remembered—an architectural marvel of stone and glass perched on a hill that overlooked the city. The beauty of the place was almost overwhelming.

A uniformed attendant opened the door for her as she pulled up to the front entrance, and she stepped out, smoothing her skirt and straightening her shoulders. No matter what happened today, she wouldn’t let Damian see her sweat.

She was led into a spacious living room, where Damian stood waiting by the fireplace, his back to her. He turned as she entered, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. Damian was as impeccably dressed as always, his dark hair neatly combed back. His presence dominated the room, exuding the kind of confidence that came naturally to someone born into wealth and power.

“Elara,” he greeted her with a slight nod, his voice smooth and controlled. “Thank you for coming.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Damian,” Elara responded, cutting to the chase. “What is this proposition you mentioned?”