Chapter 1: The Last Stand

Ariana pov:

The boardroom smells like desperation and old money, mahogany polish, leather chairs, and the faint tang of coffee gone cold.

I’m standing at the head of a table that’s worth more than my apartment, my hands trembling as I clutch the edge of a folder that holds the last shred of my family’s name.

The Blake legacy, or what’s left of it, is slipping through my fingers like sand, and I’m not ready to let go. Not yet.

“Ms. Blake, you have five minutes to explain why I shouldn’t sign this deal and bury Blake Enterprises for good.” Damien Voss’s voice cuts through the silence; it was as sharp as a blade and as smooth as silk.

He’s leaning back in his chair, all tailored suit and cold blue eyes, like a predator sizing up his kill. The other suits, his team of sharks watched me with the kind of pity you’d give a wounded animal.

I hate it. I hate him.

My heart pounds, a traitor to the calm I’m trying to project.

“You know why,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “This company is all I have left. It’s not just a name, it’s my father’s work, my family’s soul. You can’t just…..”

“I can,” he interrupts, leaning forward now, elbows on the table, fingers steepled. “And I will. Unless you give me a reason not to.”

His gaze pins me in place, and for a second, I swear the air crackles between us. It’s not just anger. It’s something else, something I don’t want to name.

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes away from his.

The folder in my hands is creased from my grip, the papers inside detailing a last-ditch plan to save Blake Enterprises, a small tech startup my father built before the scandal tore everything apart.

It’s not much, not compared to Voss Enterprises’ empire, but it’s mine. My lifeline. My chance to prove I’m more than the disgraced heiress the tabloids love to shred.

“Damien,” I start, and his name feels like a spark on my tongue. It sounded too intimate, and raw. I curse myself for using it. “Mr. Voss,” I corrected, “this company employs fifty people. Families. They’re counting on me. You don’t need to do this. Voss Enterprises is already…”

“Unstoppable?” he finishes, a smirk tugging at his lips. It’s not a kind smile. It’s the kind that says he’s already won. “Exactly. Which is why I don’t need your little company, Ariana. I’m doing this because I want to.”

The room goes quiet, the kind of quiet that presses against your eardrums. His words hit like a slap, and I feel the sting of them deep in my chest.

He’s not just here to take the company. He’s here to take me down. To crush what’s left of the Blake name. And I know why. I’ve known since the moment I saw his name on the acquisition papers.

The scandal. My father. His father. A betrayal that broke both our families, though the world only ever blamed mine.

I was sixteen when it happened, too young to understand the details, too naive to see the vultures circling. Now, at twenty-four, I’m not that girl anymore.

But standing here, under Damien’s icy stare, I felt like the younger me, small, exposed, and fighting a losing battle.

I open my mouth to argue, but the door swings open, and my mother storms in.

Veronica Blake, in all her Chanel-clad glory, her blonde hair pulled tight, her face a mask of fury. The room shifts, the sharks straightening in their seats. She’s still a force, even if the world wrote her off years ago.

“Ariana, what the hell are you doing?” Her voice is a whip, and I flinched. “You were supposed to call me before this meeting. You think you can handle this alone?”

“Mother, please,” I hiss, my cheeks burning. “Not now.”

Damien’s smirk widens, and I feel like wiping it off his face.

“Mrs. Blake,” he says, his tone dripping with mock politeness. “What a surprise. Come to watch the fall of your empire?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t take the bait. “You’re a vulture, Voss. Just like your father was.”

The air turns to ice. Damien’s expression doesn’t change, but I see the flicker in his eyes, something dark, something dangerous.

“Careful,” he says softly. “You don’t want to make this personal.”

“It’s always been personal,” she snaps, stepping closer to the table. “You think you can erase us? You think you can take everything we’ve built?”

“Built?” He laughs, low and bitter. “Your husband built nothing but lies. And I’m here to clean up the mess.”

I can’t breathe. The room feels too small, the weight of their words crushing me. My mother’s about to fire back, but I slammed my hand on the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

“Enough!” I shouted, and every head turned to me. Even Damien’s eyes widened, just a fraction.

“This isn’t about you,” I say to my mother, my voice shaking but firm. “And it’s not about your vendetta,” I added, turning to Damien. “This is about me. About what I’m fighting for. Do you want to join this company? Fine. But you’re going to have to go through me first.”

For a moment, no one speaks. My mother’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. The suits shift uncomfortably. And Damien, Damien leans back, his gaze locked on mine, and I swear I see something new in his eyes. Maybe respect or curiosity? Or maybe it’s just another trap.

“Bold words,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost intimate. “But words don’t save companies, Ariana. Results do. So here’s my offer.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch, and I feel my pulse hammering in my throat. “Work for me. Be my personal assistant. Learn what it takes to survive in my world. Do that, and I’ll give you a chance to save your precious little company.”

My stomach drops. Work for him? Be at his beck and call, under his thumb, in his world of glass towers and ruthless ambition? It’s a power play, plain and simple.

He wants to control me, to watch me break. But the alternative, losing everything, letting those fifty families down, letting my father’s memory be erased, it’s not an option.

“Why?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why not just take it now?”

His smile is slow, dangerous, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Because,” he says, “breaking you quickly would be far too easy.”

My mother gasped, but I didn’t look at her. I can’t.

All I see is Damien, his eyes burning into mine, and I feel it, the pull, the spark. The thing I swore I’d never let myself feel for a man like him.

Hate, yes. Anger, absolutely. But this? This heat curling in my chest, this ache that makes me want to step closer instead of run? It’s dangerous. It’s wrong.

And yet, I’m already nodding. “Fine,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “I’ll do it. I’ll work for you. But don’t think for a second you’ve won.”

His smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a flicker in his gaze, something that tells me he didn’t expect me to say yes.

“We’ll see,” he says, standing and buttoning his suit jacket. “Start tomorrow. My office. Eight a.m. sharp.”

He turns to leave, his team following like obedient shadows, but at the door, he pauses, glancing back at me. “Oh, and Ariana? Don’t be late.”

The door closes behind him, and the room feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. My mother’s voice breaks the silence, sharp and accusing. “What have you done?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. Because I don’t know if I’ve just saved my family’s legacy or sold my soul to the devil himself.

As I gathered my papers, my hands still shaking, I felt the weight of what’s coming.

Damien Voss isn’t just a billionaire with a grudge. He’s a storm, and I’ve just stepped into its path. I should be terrified. I should walk away. But there’s a part of me, a reckless, stubborn part, that wants to face him. To fight him. To prove I’m not the broken heiress he thinks I am.

And maybe, just maybe, to find out why his eyes make my heart race in ways I can’t explain.