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Green Elena
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2026-03-10 13:51:46
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Boardroom to Bedroom Date Night
Damian's POVI didn't plan to take her out.At least, that's what I told myself.It was supposed to be dinner. Work talk. Numbers and contracts and "thank you for your effort" - the kind of polite thing a boss says to his assistant after she pulls three consecutive all-nighters.But the moment Rachael walked into the restaurant - black dress, loose curls, the kind of perfume that lingered without asking permission - I knew this wasn't going to stay professional."Hope I'm not late," she said, sliding into the booth across from me."No," I said, clearing my throat. "You're right on time."She smiled, a small, quiet thing that somehow felt louder than the room. The restaurant lights were dim, soft enough to make it easy to forget who we were - CEO and assistant, controlled and careful."Wine?" she asked, scanning the menu.I nodded. "Surprise me."She did.She ordered something expensive, bold, and somehow - exactly what I would've chosen myself. The first sip hit smooth, but it was the
Boardroom to Bedroom Green Elena
I'd been sick, half-conscious, and yet I remembered everything.The warmth of her fingers brushing mine. The spark that followed.And then the doorbell - Elena's voice.The look on Rachael's face when she opened the door. The one that said I know exactly what this looks like.Now it was Monday morning, and everything felt too quiet.Too normal.Rachael was at her desk when I walked in, her hair pulled back neatly, a pen between her fingers, the picture of focus. Except her eyes flicked up the moment I entered - like they always did - and for a heartbeat, we just looked at each other."Morning," she said finally, her tone polite but lighter than usual."Morning," I replied, setting my briefcase down. "No soup today?"She smiled - that slow, knowing kind of smile that crept up one corner first."Depends," she said. "You planning to fall sick again?"I leaned back against the desk, arms crossed. "You make it sound tempting.""Then maybe I should start charging."It was harmless. Playful.
Boardroom to Bedroom Fever and Fire
Damian's POVThree days.That's how long I'd been locked up in my apartment, half-dead from a fever I couldn't shake. The kind that made your head feel too heavy for your body.I'd ignored Rachael's calls at first - I wasn't in the mood for pity or fussing. But she was persistent. Sweetly, annoyingly persistent.I should've known she wouldn't listen.Rachael Meyer never did.When she set her mind on something - a project, a deadline, me - she followed through. That's how I found myself half-asleep on the couch, fever burning through my skull, listening to the soft click of my door."Mr. Cross?"Her voice floated through the haze - soft, warm, dangerously gentle.I groaned, pulling the blanket tighter. "You shouldn't be here.""Then you shouldn't be dying alone," she said simply, closing the door behind her.I opened my eyes. She stood there with a plastic bag in one hand and a thermos in the other, dressed down in jeans and a cream sweater. Hair tied up, eyes soft but determined.Beau
Boardroom to Bedroom Magnetic
Damian's POVI shouldn't be thinking about her like this.But here I am - staring at the glow of my office window, pretending to read a report I've skimmed three times already, and thinking about the curve of Rachael's smile.It's ridiculous.She's my assistant. Smart, focused, and annoyingly good at her job.But the more time I spend around her, the more I find myself noticing things I shouldn't - the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she's thinking, the way she smells faintly of citrus and something warm, the way she looks at me when she thinks I'm not looking back.And I know she feels it too.But lately, Rachael's been everywhere - in my head, in my space, in the quiet moments between meetings when I should be thinking about work but end up thinking about her instead.The way she moves. The calm way she speaks. The way her eyes find mine when everyone else is talking. It's subtle, infuriatingly so. She doesn't even try - and maybe that's what makes it worse.There's a spa
Boardroom to Bedroom The Perfect Assistant
Elena's POV If there was one thing Damian Cross hated more than losing, it was incompetence. So when his assistant managed to send a confidential proposal to the wrong client - during a board presentation, no less - it was a miracle the woman still had her job the next day. By "next day," I mean this morning. And by "still had her job," I mean she was currently packing her desk. "Just let her go," I said, leaning against the glass door to Damian's office. "You don't need to breathe fire about it." Damian didn't look up from his screen. "She attached the wrong document, Elena. To a potential investor." "She's human," I said. "She's careless," he corrected, voice low and calm in that terrifying way of his. "I can't afford careless." I folded my arms. "You're overreacting." He finally looked up, that cool gray stare pinning me in place. "You wouldn't say that if it was your department." I sighed, dropping the argument. He was right - and he knew it. "Fine," I said. "I'll hand
Boardroom to Bedroom Learning to Move On
Elena's POV I didn't expect him to change. Damian Cross was many things - brilliant, stubborn, occasionally unbearable - but never indifferent. Until now. He'd barely looked at me all night. Just silence, clipped responses, eyes that saw straight through me like I was another line on the company's expense sheet. It should've made things easier. It didn't. By the time I got home, I was still thinking about him - the way he said "That's peace. You should try it." Like moving on was something you could do with a switch. I poured a glass of wine, sat on the couch, and opened my laptop. The report we'd just finished glared back at me - precise, polished, cold. Just like him. Lucas had texted earlier: Dinner tomorrow? I hadn't replied. There was nothing wrong with Lucas. He was smart, kind, steady - the kind of man who didn't leave you guessing what he felt. But he wasn't Damian. And that was the problem. I used to think time would fix everything - that if I worked hard enough,
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