chapter 4

Sophia

The walk from the break room to the boardroom shouldn't have felt like a journey, yet every step seemed heavier than the last.

Perhaps it was because the past twenty-four hours had drained every ounce of energy from me. Or perhaps it was because something about this meeting felt important in a way I couldn't explain.

The corridor was unusually quiet.

Most employees were still buried in phone calls and emergency meetings, trying to contain the damage spreading through the company.

Everywhere I looked, tension hung in the air. People smiled less, spoke less, laughed less.

Fear had a way of changing a workplace.

And right now, fear was everywhere.

By the time I got the boardroom, I became very nervous.

I paused outside the door, straightened my blazer, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Then took a deep, calm breath.

I pushed the door open, and immediately realized something was different.

The room was silent. Not ordinary silence, the kind of silence that followed authority.

Three people sat around the conference table, two men and one woman.

All dressed in expensive business attire, carrying themselves with confidence.

The man siting at the head of the table caught my attention. For a second, I simply stared not because he was handsome, it was the way he carried himself like he belonged wherever he chose to stand. The man has a dark hair, sharp jawline, wore a tailored charcoal suit and a watch that probably cost more than my annual salary.

But it wasn't his appearance that unsettled me, it was his cold, observant, calculating eyes. Those eyes lifted from the documents in front of him and settled on me.

The room suddenly felt much smaller. For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then the woman beside him cleared her throat. “Miss Bennett?”

I forced myself to move “yes”.

The woman stood with a professional smile firmly in place “I'm Rachel Foster”

The name sounded familiar, like the lawyer from the phone call.

She extended her hand for a handshake, of which I took.

“Thank you for meeting us on such short notice”.

I glanced around the room. My attention returned to the man at the head of the table. He was silently watching me.

A strange discomfort crawled beneath my skin.

Finally, Rachel gestured toward him “allow me to introduce Mr. Damien Hart”

I was a bit shocked immediately I heard the name. For some reason, I didn't expect him to be here.

Men like Damien Hart don't attend ordinary meetings, they send representatives, assistants or any department.

Yet he was sitting in our boardroom, watching me as though he was trying to solve a puzzle.

I extended my hand “Mr. Hart”

He stood up confident and effortlessly, looking very tall.

His hands closed around mine, firm & brief. Yet something about the contact made my pulse stumble, definitely not attraction.

“A pleasure to meet you, miss Bennett”. His voice smooth, deep.

“Thank you” I withdrew my hand.

The man made me nervous, and I hated being nervous, especially in business meetings.

When the meeting began, Damien remained silent, allowing the others to speak. Rachel handled introductions.

The second executive explained the purpose of Hart global visit – something about future partnerships, potential collaborations, market opportunities.

I listened, took notes, asked questions.

Yet throughout the entire discussion, I remained aware of Damien. There was something undeniably commanding about him.

Eventually the meeting came to an end. People stood, chairs slid backward, documents were gathered. The others began filing towards the door.

I started collecting my notes, then a voice stopped me.”miss Bennett”

I looked up. Damien was still seated, the others had already left. Leaving us alone.

“Yes?”

His steady unreadable gaze met mine. For several seconds he simply studied me with silence. As though he was deciding something.

Finally he spoke “you've had a difficult week”

The comment caught me off guard and that made me frown. “You don't know anything about my week”

An unreadable look flashed in his eyes and immediately disappeared before I could identify it.

There was something infuriating about the man's calmness. Something that made me want to challenge him.

“Was there something specific you wanted to discuss, Mr. Hart?”

His expression remained unchanged. “I heard about your father”.

My shoulders stiffened. Of course he had, everybody seemed to know.

“He's recovering”. I said

“Good” the answer came immediately without hesitation and strangely…. It sounded genuine.

For some reason, that annoyed me even more because genuine concern was the last thing I expected from Damien Hart.

I gathered the remaining papers.

“If that's all….”

“It isn't”

Something in his tone made me freeze.

Slowly, I looked back at him, the casual professionalism was gone. Now he looked serious and focused.

He spoke again with a more lower and deliberate voice. “Be careful who you trust, miss Bennett”.

“What does that mean?”

A faint, non-friendly, mysterious smile touched his lips.

He stood, straightened his suit jacket and walked toward the door. Leaving me staring after him confused, and far more unsettled than I cared to admit.

Because somehow, I knew it wasn't a warning. It was a clue, and deep down… I had this horrible feeling that Damien Hart knew far more about my family's problems than he should.