Chapter 2

Damien’s Pov

She was lying.

I knew it the moment Elena Hale opened her mouth. The way she held herself, the precise way she answered every question, it was too perfect. And those eyes. Dark, fierce, familiar in a way that clawed at memories I’d buried three years ago.

I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of my office, watching the city lights. My phone buzzed. Grandfather’s lawyer again.

“Thirty days, Damien. Marry or Adrian takes everything. Those are the terms.”

I ended the call without replying. Adrian would run the company into the ground and sell our secrets to the highest bidder. I couldn’t let that happen.

A soft knock. My assistant, Marcus, poked his head in. “The new consultant started sabotaging the Thompson deal today. Subtle, but it’s there. You want her gone?”

“No,” I said. “Keep her close. I want to watch her.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow but left.

That night I sat in my penthouse with a glass of whiskey, scrolling through old messages on an encrypted app I hadn’t opened in years. “S” she had called herself. The woman who made me laugh at 2 a.m., who understood the weight of expectations, who disappeared the same night the Hart scandal exploded.

“You’re the only person who makes the world feel quieter,” I’d typed once.

Her reply: “Then stay with me in the quiet.”

I closed the app. Elena Hale moved like her. Spoke with the same quiet fire. Coincidence? I didn’t believe in them.

The next morning I called her into my office.

“You killed the Thompson meeting,” I said without greeting.

She lifted her chin. “I saved you from a bad deal. They were going to bleed you dry.”

“Interesting choice of words.” I stepped closer. “Who are you really working for, Miss Hale?”

Her lips parted, then pressed together. For a second I saw something raw in her eyes—anger, maybe pain. “Myself. I work for myself.”

The air between us thickened. I wanted to push harder, but my grandfather’s deadline echoed in my head. I needed the board on my side. And this woman, whoever she was, already had three members eating out of her hand after one strategy session.

“Sit down,” I ordered, gesturing to the chair across from my desk. “We’re not done talking.”

Elena hesitated but sat, crossing her legs smoothly. “If this is about the Thompson deal, I stand by what I did. Their terms were terrible for us long-term.”

“Terrible for me, you mean,” I replied, leaning against the desk. “You convinced them to walk away with a smile. Explain to me why I shouldn’t fire you right now.”

“Because you’re smart enough to see I’m right,” she shot back. “Or are you the type who only wants yes-men around? I thought Damien Cross built his empire by making tough calls, not easy ones.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You talk like you know me.”

“I know your reputation. Ruthless. Brilliant. Always ten steps ahead. Yet here you are, losing deals that should have been easy wins. Maybe you need fresh eyes.”

“Fresh eyes that happen to dig up confidential information?” I countered. “How did you even know the details of the Thompson negotiations? Those meetings were closed-door.”

Elena smiled faintly. “I have contacts. In this city, information is currency. Everyone should understand that.”

I paced slowly around the desk. “Contacts. Convenient answer. Let me be direct, have you been sent here to undermine me? Be honest. If you lie and I find out later, there will be consequences.”

“I’m not here to play games, Mr. Cross,” she said, voice steady. “I want success. Working for you could give me that. Why would I throw it away on sabotage?”

“Because someone might be paying you more,” I replied. “Or because you have your own agenda. Which is it?”

She stood up suddenly, matching my intensity. “If you distrust me this much, why did you hire me yesterday? You could have torn up that offer letter.”

“I hire talent. I also watch it closely when it feels… familiar.” I stopped in front of her. “There’s something about you. The way you speak, the way you challenge me. It’s like I’ve heard it before.”

Elena’s eyes flickered for a split second. “New York is full of strong women, Mr. Cross. Don’t read too much into it.”

I studied her face, searching for cracks. “Maybe. But I don’t believe in coincidences. Tell me about your past. Real details. Not the résumé version.”

“Why does my past matter for a consulting role?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Because I’m considering bringing you much closer than a simple consultant,” I said. “Answer the question.”

She exhaled slowly. “I came from a good family that lost everything. I learned the hard way that trust is expensive. That’s all you need to know.”

“Lost everything,” I repeated. “Interesting. A lot of people lost things three years ago during that market mess.”

Her jaw tightened. “What’s your point?”

“Three years ago my life changed too,” I continued. “A woman I trusted disappeared right when everything went to hell. At the same time your so-called family fell apart. Strange timing, don’t you think?”

Elena crossed her arms. “Millions of people went through hard times back then. Are you accusing me of something specific, or just fishing?”

“I’m trying to figure out if I can trust you with more than a contract,” I said. “The board respects you already. They see something in you. But I see shadows.”

She let out a short laugh. “Shadows? You really are dramatic, Mr. Cross. I thought billionaires were supposed to be practical.”

“Practical means protecting what’s mine,” I replied. “And right now, my entire company is on the line. So tell me honestly—why did you really take this job? The money? The prestige? Or something else?”

Elena met my gaze without flinching. “All of the above. And maybe the challenge. Working for the most feared man in New York isn’t exactly boring.”

“Feared?” I raised an eyebrow. “Most people say they are hated.”

“Same difference to some,” she said. “But I don’t scare easily. If you want someone who’ll tell you the truth even when it’s ugly, I’m that person. If you want a puppet, hire someone else.”

I watched her carefully. “You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid for speaking to me this way.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of powerful men thinking they can intimidate everyone,” she fired back. “You need results. I deliver them. Simple as that.”

The tension crackled between us. I could feel the pull, that dangerous familiarity I couldn’t shake.

I made a decision.

“Marry me,” I said.

She blinked. “What?”

“Fake marriage. Thirty days, maybe more. In return, you get influence, money, whatever you want. I keep control of my company.”

Elena stared at me like I’d lost my mind. Then she laughed once, sharp. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly.”

She searched my face. I saw calculation there, and something darker. Satisfaction?

“Give me twenty-four hours,” she said softly.

As she turned to leave, I caught her wrist. “One condition. No lies between us in this marriage.”

Her pulse jumped under my fingers. She looked back at me, eyes blazing.

“Then you better start practicing what you preach, Mr. Cross.”

She pulled free and walked out, leaving me wondering if I’d just invited my downfall into my own home.