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CHAPTER SIX - DAMIEN
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2025-12-24 19:08:54I didn’t sit down immediately after Tanya left.
I stood there with one hand braced against my desk, staring at the sheets she’d touched like they were suddenly radioactive.
Not because she touched them.
Because she saw what I’d spent sleepless nights digging through.
She spotted it in seconds.
I exhaled slowly, gathered the papers, and hit the intercom.
“Greyson.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send in the Head of Finance.”
A beat. Everyone in this building knew that tone.
“Yes, sir.”
While I waited, I replayed the image of Tanya leaning over my desk, pointing out decimals like breathing. No hesitation. No guesses. She just knew.
And I found women who knew their stuff very sexy.
“No women. Focus, Damien,” I muttered.
A knock. My irritation flared.
“Enter.”
The Head of Finance stepped in—usually composed, but today he looked ready to bolt.
“You asked for me, Mr. Lockewood?”
I slid the stack to him. “Walk me through the logic behind these numbers.”
“These were Hale’s submissions for the quarter, sir. Everything appears—”
“Don’t.”
He froze, then scanned the pages again, flipping through them like the answers might magically appear.
“I… I don’t quite see the issue.”
If a fifty-year-old man with thirty years’ experience couldn’t identify the problem after two minutes, then Tanya catching it in minutes was not an accident.
“Call Hale.”
His eyebrows jumped. “Hale, sir?”
“Yes. Now.”
He nodded and left.
The door closed, and the thought that had been clawing at the edge of my mind finally formed:
Who exactly is Tanya?
The intercom buzzed. “Send them in.”
Hale walked in with the Head of Finance, adjusting his glasses nervously.
“Sir? You wanted to see me?”
I pushed the papers toward him. “These are yours.”
“Yes, sir. Submitted to the accounts office.”
“Read them.”
He tried. Or pretended to. His eyes skimmed, unfocused. He didn’t see it.
“Explain your methodology.”
He hesitated—a fatal mistake.
“Sir, the figures were auto-generated. I simply—”
I raised a hand. He went silent.
“The starting figures are inconsistent,” I said. “Lifted manually. Twice.”
His face drained.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Fear.
“I—I didn’t—maybe someone from the junior—”
“You signed it.”
“Mr. Lockewood, please—if you let me recheck—”
“I’m not interested in excuses.”
“Sir, I have a family—”
“And you should’ve considered them before committing fraud.”
I tapped the security button.
Two guards appeared instantly.
“Hale,” I said quietly, “you’re terminated. Effective immediately.”
“Sir, please—I can fix this—”
“You had months to fix it. You chose to hide it.”
He shook, desperate, but it was done.
“And Hale,” I added as the guards took his arms, “everyone on this floor needs to understand something.”
He stilled.
“I don’t tolerate fraud. Or stupidity. Not in my company.”
The guards led him out—no theatrics, just consequence.
“Get lost.”
The Head of Finance practically ran after him.
Silence followed.
But the calm didn’t come.
Tanya’s voice echoed:
“It took a cleaner to figure it out.”
I rubbed my jaw, annoyed at how that sentence twisted in my chest. And I paid thousands for security.
I pressed the intercom.
“Greyson.”
She appeared in the doorway. “Yes, sir?”
“Fire whoever was supposed to audit the records. Effective immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And pull Tanya Reed’s file.”
She frowned. “Is there anything in particular—”
“No.”
She nodded and left.
I wasn’t sure what I expected from Tanya’s file.
Some explanation for how she walked into my office, glanced at a report, and dismantled Hale’s manipulation like it was nothing.
My computer pinged. Her profile opened.
Family: deceased.
Education: Degree in Financial Accounting.
Work history: scattered.
Skills: none listed.
References: minimal.
Achievement: Top 5 in statewide mathematics competition (senior level).
Nothing dramatic.
But enough to explain why a cleaner could outperform my finance team with a glance.
My phone buzzed. Father.
I debated ignoring it. Answered anyway.
“What.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said. “Firing a senior manager without warning?”
“He cooked the books.”
“You don’t know that yet.”
“I do.”
“You can’t run a company on instinct alone.”
“I don’t. I run it on precision. Not manipulation.”
A pause.
“Make sure you have evidence to avoid lawsuits.”
He hung up.
No goodbye. Typical.
I pushed Tanya’s file aside and looked at the reports on my desk, the sticky note she left grouping the pages, her handwriting glaring at me.
Her tired eyes flashed in my mind. She looked like she hadn’t slept.
I knew that look.
But why did I care?
Why did it bother me?
I stood abruptly. Coffee. I needed coffee.
When I got back to Lockewood Heights, the shift in atmosphere was immediate.
People weren’t gossiping. They knew better.
But fear had settled into the walls.
A woman from PR straightened her blazer insanely fast.
Two managers who’d been arguing suddenly lowered their voices.
Someone dropped a pen, and the silence afterward was loud.
Even Greyson straightened further when she saw me.
“I’ve postponed your nonessential meetings,” she said. “I assumed today wasn’t the day.”
Accurate. I nodded.
I entered my office. Everything was where I left it—the reports, the sticky note, her handwriting staring at me like it owned the place.
The coffee helped. Barely.
Because the problem wasn’t the fraud.
Not Hale.
Not the Finance team.
The problem was a cleaning girl who saw something within minutes that I’d spent days unraveling.
A girl who shouldn’t have been in my head.
Or under my skin.
But she was.
Tanya Reed was a problem.
A sharp one.
A stubborn one.
And now… a distraction.
A fast-growing one.
And I hated distractions.
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Until The Truth Burns CHAPTER TWENTY- SIX - DAMIEN
She was still standing there.Arms crossed, chin lifted, eyes bright with restrained fury and somehow, that was infinitely more dangerous than tears would have been.I had expected gratitude.Maybe even awkward thanks.Not this.Not her storming into my office like she had every right to challenge me. Not her dismantling my logic point by point. Not her standing in front of me, refusing to shrink.I admired it.That was the problem. I admired her too much. The way her voice didn’t shake, the way she held my gaze without apology, the way she refused to let me be comfortable in my authority.It stirred something low and insistent in my body.Something I had spent years training myself to ignore.And it was responding to her anger.To her spine.To her fire.I became painfully aware of how close she was.Of the faint warmth radiating from her skin.Of the way her breath shifted when I stepped nearer.Of the way my attention had stopped being professional several minutes ago.This was not
Until The Truth Burns CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – TANYA
By the time I made it back to my desk, my hands were steady. My nerves were not.I arranged my papers. Checked my screen. Answered two emails I barely registered. Responded to Rose’s text asking if I was alive.I was. Technically.Inside, something was simmering.Not embarrassment. Not gratitude. Not even anger at the women in the corridor anymore.At Damien.At the way he had stepped in.At the way he had decided, without asking, that I needed him to.I finished the report I was working on, saved it, closed the file, and stared at my reflection in the darkened edge of my monitor.Then I stood.His door was closed.Of course it was.I crossed the space anyway and knocked once.“Come in.”I didn’t hesitate.He was standing when I entered, jacket off, sleeves rolled, phone in his hand. He looked up as I closed the door behind me.“Tanya,” he said. “I was going to—”“Why did you do that?”The words came out before I could soften them.He stilled.“Do what?”“You know exactly what,” I sai
Until The Truth Burns CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – DAMIEN
The briefing was scheduled for eleven.I arrived early, as usual.The conference room was already prepared when I stepped in, glass walls pristine, screens lit, folders aligned with unnecessary precision. Senior staff filtered in gradually, department heads and executives who understood the rules of this floor but liked to test them anyway. The room filled with quiet confidence and subtle competition, the kind that thrived behind polite smiles.Tanya entered without announcement and took the seat to my left.No hesitation. No self-consciousness. She arranged her documents with the calm efficiency of someone who expected to be there. A few heads turned. A few brows lifted. No one said anything yet.I noted it.The briefing began smoothly enough. Projections were presented. Adjustments discussed. Questions raised that were more about territory than substance. I let it unfold, interjecting only when necessary, until the revised forecasts appeared on the screen.“These figures,” one of th
Until The Truth Burns CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – TANYA
I walked into the office this morning in okay spirits.Not great. Not terrible. Just… okay.As an early bird, the building was almost empty. A handful of people moved through the lobby, security included, all of us operating on that quiet, pre–nine a.m. understanding. I made my way to the private elevator and headed up to the executive wing, the doors sliding shut behind me with their usual finality.I turned on my computer and went over the financial projections for the next month, letting myself sink into the numbers. Columns. Margins. Clean logic. Predictable outcomes. Work had a way of grounding me when my head threatened to wander too far.After a while, my eyes flicked to the time on the cute baby-pink clock sitting on my desk.Eight-thirty.By now, the building downstairs would be brimming with people. Emails flying. Phones ringing. Coffee cups multiplying.Damien still hadn’t arrived.That was unusual.Then again, he was the boss. He could do whatever he wanted. Including show
Until The Truth Burns CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – DAMIEN
Anna called before I even reached the building.I considered letting it ring. I didn’t.“Good morning to you too,” she said brightly when I answered, far too awake for the hour.“It’s early,” I replied, stepping out of the car and into the lift.“So are you,” she said. “Which means you’re already in a mood.”I ignored that. “What do you want?”She laughed. “I want you to stop sounding like you’re perpetually on the brink of firing someone.”“That’s not a sound.”“It is with you,” she said easily. “Anyway, I met someone.”I stilled.The elevator continued its ascent, smooth and silent.“You met someone,” I repeated.“Yes,” she said. “And before you interrogate me, no, he’s not terrible. He’s kind, he listens, and he doesn’t treat conversation like a negotiation.”I closed my eyes briefly.“That last part feels pointed,” I said.“Only because it is,” she replied cheerfully. “I think I have a crush.”That, inexplicably, irritated me.“A crush,” I echoed. “You’re an adult.”“And you’re a c
Until The Truth Burns CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – TANYA
I didn’t dwell on Greyson’s absence as I settled into the morning, sorting through what she’d left behind with the kind of care the space demanded.Greyson didn’t do disorder, and she certainly didn’t leave gaps, which meant everything on her desk had already been considered at least three steps ahead. My role wasn’t to decide. It was to interpret.That suited me.As I worked through her notes and cross-checked them against Damien’s priorities, I felt myself steady, that familiar calm settling in once I stopped thinking about whether I belonged and simply focused on the work in front of me.Still, awareness crept in where I didn’t invite it.Not loud or insistent, just a quiet sense of being observed that settled between my shoulders and refused to leave, even when I didn’t look up, even when I told myself it was nothing more than habit or nerves or the residue of the last few days.Damien didn’t hover. He didn’t interrupt. Somehow, that made it worse.Every time he stepped out of his
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