Chapter 2

Amara's POV 

The first day of war always feels deceptively quiet.

That was what I reminded myself as I stood in ColeTech’s lobby on Monday morning, a crisp folder in my arms and my mask firmly in place. The building was alive with movement, men and women in tailored suits, their heels and polished shoes clicking against the marble, conversations brisk, smiles tight. Everyone here walked like the world belonged to them.

I wanted to scream. This kingdom was built on ashes. My ashes.

Instead, I smiled politely when the receptionist directed me to the twenty-second floor. My reflection in the elevator doors was flawless: sleek ponytail, tailored navy dress, steady gaze. Not the girl whose family had been destroyed. Not the woman plotting revenge. Just Mara Vance, ambitious, hungry, harmless.

But the moment I stepped onto the floor, the air shifted. This wasn’t just an office, it was a battlefield in disguise. People moved with the precision of soldiers, each desk a command station. I scanned everything, committing the floor plan to memory. Every empire had weaknesses, and I would find them.

“Mara Vance?”

I turned. A man in his late thirties extended his hand. “Ethan Kingston. Head of Marketing. Damien told me you’d be joining us.”

Damien told me.

My stomach gave a small twist, though I kept my expression warm. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Kingston.”

He smiled easily, the kind of man who’d charm a room without breaking a sweat. “Please Ethan. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As he walked me through the open office, I listened, nodded, absorbed. But I was also aware of something else. A presence.

And sure enough, when Ethan pushed open the door to a glass-walled conference room, Damien Cole stood inside.

He looked as if he owned the world and didn’t particularly care if it burned beneath his feet. Black suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. His jacket was draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up just enough to show strong forearms. His hair caught the morning light, dark and unruly.

And his eyes, those grey eyes, locked on me the second I stepped in.

I forced my lungs to keep working. Don’t react. Don’t let him see.

“Mr. Cole,” Ethan said cheerfully. “This is Mara. I was just giving her a tour.”

Damien’s gaze never left mine. For a moment, silence stretched, pulling tight like wire. Then, with deliberate calm, he spoke.

“I’ll take it from here.”

Ethan hesitated. Then nodded and left us alone.

The door clicked shut.

And suddenly, the room felt too small.

Damien leaned back against the table, arms crossed. “So, Ms. Vance. First impressions?

I blinked. “Of the company?”

“Of me.”

My throat went dry. Was this a trap? A test? Both?

I forced a cool smile. “You’re exactly as people describe you, Mr. Cole.”

“Ruthless?” he asked, arching a brow.

“Formidable,” I corrected.

For the first time, his lips curved into something that looked almost like approval. “Good answer.”

The silence that followed was charged, sharp, humming with something I didn’t want to name.

And then he said it. Quiet. Unexpected. “I don’t trust easily.”

The words caught me off guard. Why would he tell me that? Why would a man like him give even a glimpse of vulnerability?

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” I said softly.

His gaze darkened, as though my answer meant more to him than it should have.

For one dangerous second, it felt like we weren’t enemies at all. Just two people standing in a room, testing the boundaries of something neither of us understood.

But I couldn’t afford that.

I straightened my shoulders, hiding the war inside me. Remember why you’re here, Amara. Remember what he did.

“I should get back to work,” I said briskly.

His lips twitched again, but this time it was colder. “Of course. Welcome to ColeTech, Ms. Vance.”

As I walked out, I could feel his eyes on me, burning between my shoulder blades. And I hated the truth clawing its way into my chest:

Part of me didn’t hate it at all.

Damien POV 

She unsettled me.

I’d known it from the moment I saw her on Friday, late and unapologetically composed. But today, watching her step into my world, the feeling only sharpened.

Mara Vance carried herself like she had secrets stitched into her skin. Not the usual kind, either. Everyone had ambitions, hidden angles, but hers felt deeper. Like she wasn’t just here to climb, she was here to conquer.

I should’ve kept my distance. I should’ve handed her back to Kingston and moved on with my day. But the second she looked at me with those eyes, steady, unflinching, I wanted to see what lay beneath.

And then she said it. Formidable.

Not ruthless. Not arrogant. Not the names I was used to hearing. Formidable. Strong. Powerful. A word that didn’t bruise, it respected.

And damn me, but I liked the way it sounded from her mouth.

I told her I didn’t trust easily, and for the briefest heartbeat, something flickered across her face. Not pity. Not fear. Recognition. Like she knew what that felt like.

That unsettled me most of all.

As she walked out, her shoulders squared and spine rigid, I told myself to forget her. She was just an employee. Just another piece on the board.

But my instincts whispered something else.

That she wasn’t a piece. She was a player.

And I couldn’t shake

the question that gnawed at me as I watched her disappear down the hall:

What game is Mara Vance really playing?