Chapter 3: Into the Lion’s Den

Ariana pov:

The elevator hums as it climbs, each floor ticking by like a countdown to my execution. I’m dressed in my best, a navy pencil skirt and white blouse I ironed twice last night, but I feel like a fraud, like the world can see the cracks in my armor.

My reflection stares back from the polished steel doors: Ariana Blake, twenty-four, former heiress, current fool walking straight into Damien Voss’s world.

My stomach twists, and I grip my bag tighter, as if it can anchor me against the storm waiting on the forty-seventh floor.

I didn’t sleep last night, not really. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Dad’s face, heard Mom’s warnings, felt Lily’s trembling hands in mine.

And worse, Damien’s smirk, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. I hate that he’s already under my skin, that my heart races at the thought of facing him today.

It’s not just fear. It’s something darker, something that makes my breath catch and my cheeks burn.

I shoved it down, deep where it can’t hurt me. I’m here to save Blake Enterprises, not to lose myself to a man who wants to destroy me.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open, revealing Voss Enterprises in all its cold, gleaming glory. Glass walls, sleek chrome, and a reception desk that looks like it belongs in a spaceship.

The air smells of money, crisp, sterile, untouchable. A woman with a headset and a smile too perfect to be real glances up.

“Ms. Blake? Mr. Voss is expecting you.”

Of course he is. I nodded, forcing my lips into something resembling a smile, and followed her down a hallway lined with offices that hummed with quiet efficiency.

Everyone here moves like they’re part of a machine, Damien’s machine. I’m an outsider, a glitch, and I feel every stare as I pass.

They know who I am. The Blake heiress, the scandal’s daughter, the girl who’s about to be Damien Voss’s personal assistant. I wonder if they’re taking bets on how long I’ll last.

She leads me to a corner office, all glass and steel, with a view of the city that makes my heart ache. It’s the kind of view Dad used to love, the kind he’d show me from his own office, pointing out skyscrapers like they were his dreams made solid.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped inside.

Damien’s standing by the window, his back to me, his broad shoulders filling out a charcoal suit that probably costs more than my rent.

He doesn’t turn, but I know he hears me, feels me, the way I feel him, like static in the air before a storm.

“You’re early,” he says, his voice low, smooth, like he’s testing me. “Good.”

“I’m not here to play games,” I said, and I’m proud of how steady my voice sounds, even if my hands are shaking. “You wanted me here. I’m here. So what do you want from me?”

He turns then, and God help me, those eyes hit me like a punch. Blue as ice, sharp as glass, and yet there’s something else in them, something that flickers, like a shadow passing over water.

“What I want,” he says, stepping closer, feeling the gap between us, “is for you to prove you’re worth my time. Blake Enterprises is a sinking ship, Ariana. Convince me it’s worth saving.”

I bristle, my chin lifting. “It’s worth saving because it’s mine. Because it’s my father’s legacy, and because fifty families are counting on it. You don’t get to decide their future.”

His lips twitched, not quite a smile, but close enough to make my blood boil.

“I decide everything in this building,” he says, his voice dropping lower, almost intimate. “Including you.”

My breath catches, and I hate it, hate the way my body reacts, the way my pulse spikes at his words. I took a step back, needing distance, needing air.

“I’m not your pawn,” I snap. “I’m here to work, not to be your punching bag.”

He tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he hasn’t quite solved.

“We’ll see,” he says, and there’s that flicker again, that shadow in his eyes. Is it amusement? Curiosity? Or something more dangerous?

“Your desk is outside. You’ll handle my schedule, my calls, and my coffee. You’ll be my shadow, Ariana. Every meeting, every decision, you’re there. Understood?”

I nodded, my jaw tight, because what else can I do? I’m in his world now, playing by his rules. But I swear to myself, right then and there, that I’ll find a way to turn this game in my favor. I have to. For Dad. For Lily. For me.

The morning is a blur of emails, schedules, and Damien’s voice barking orders through the intercom.

“Coffee, black, no sugar.” “Reschedule the Tokyo call for three.” “Get me the quarterly reports by noon.” Each command is a test, a jab, and I grit my teeth through every one.

The other assistants, women who move like they were born in heels, watched me with a mix of pity and disdain.

I’m the odd one out, the scandal’s daughter, and they know it.

By lunch, my head’s pounding, and my blouse is sticking to my back from the stress. I’m in the break room, pouring coffee into a mug that says Voss Enterprises: Power in Precision, when a voice behind me makes me jump.

“Rough first day, huh?”

I turned to find a man leaning against the counter, all easy charm and sharp cheekbones.

He’s in a suit almost as expensive as Damien’s, but his smile is warmer, less predatory.

“I’m Julian,” he says, extending a hand. “Julian Carter. I do business with Damien. And you’re Ariana Blake, the talk of the office.”

I shake his hand, warily. “Talk of the office? Already?”

He laughs, a sound that’s too smooth, too practiced.

“Oh, you have no idea. The boss’s new assistant, the Blake heiress herself? People are curious.” His eyes linger on me, and I feel a prickle of unease. He’s charming, sure, but something is calculating behind it, like he’s sizing me up.

“Well, they can keep their curiosity,” I said, turning back to the coffee. “I’m here to work, not to gossip.”

“Fair enough,” he says, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he leans closer, lowering his voice. “Just a word of advice? Watch your back with Damien. He’s not as cold as he seems, but he’s got a knack for getting what he wants. And right now, he wants you.”

My hand freezes on the coffee pot, and I spin to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Julian shrugs, his smile never wavering. “Just an observation. You’re not like the others who’ve sat at that desk. He’s… interested. Be careful.”

Before I can respond, the intercom crackles.

“Ariana. My office. Now.”

Julian raises an eyebrow, like he’s saying I told you so, and I want to wipe that look off his face almost as much as I want to wipe Damien’s smirk off his.

I grabbed the coffee and marched back to the office, my heart pounding. Interested? Damien?

The man who wants to crush my family’s name? Julian’s wrong. He has to be.

Inside, Damien’s at his desk, papers spread out, his tie loosened just enough to make him look human.

“You’re slow,” he says without looking up. “Coffee shouldn’t take ten minutes.”

I set the mug down harder than I mean to, the liquid sloshing. “Maybe if you didn’t bark orders every five seconds, I’d have a chance to breathe.”

He looks up then, and there’s that emotion again, that shadow in his eyes.

“Breathing’s overrated,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You wanted to play in my world, Ariana. This is what it looks like. Sink or swim.”

I want to scream. I want to throw the coffee in his face and walk out. But I see Lily’s tear-streaked face, hear Mom’s warnings, feel Dad’s absence like a hole in my chest. I can’t sink. Not now. Not ever.

“I’ll swim,” I said, my voice low and fierce. “But don’t think for a second I’m doing this for you.”

For a moment, he just stares, and I swear the air between us crackles, like it did in the boardroom. Then he leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to do it for me. I want you to do it for you.”

My breath catches, and I hate it, hate the way his words twist something inside me, hate the way my heart races when he’s this close. I’m here to fight him, to save my legacy, not to feel… whatever this is. But as I turn to leave, his voice stops me.

“Ariana.”

I glance back, and his eyes are on me, intense and unreadable. “Don’t let Julian Carter get in your head. He’s not your friend.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but something in his tone, a warning, a hint of something deeper, stops me. I nod, just once, and walk out, my heart pounding, my mind spinning.

Damien Voss is a storm, and I’m already caught in it. But I won’t let him, or anyone, break me.

Not when I’ve already lost so much.