All Chapters of Claimed By The Billionaire's Enemy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

Reynolds stuttered, flipping through his tablet. "Market changes, sir. Unexpected rules from regulators..." "Unexpected?" Damien interrupted, leaning forward. "Your job is to expect them. Or are we paying you to be caught off guard?" The room was silent and heavy with tension. The other executives shifted in their seats, looking down, glad it wasn't them under fire. Damien thrived in this— the fear, the control. It felt familiar. He glanced toward the back of the room. Ariana sat there, quiet and focused, her tablet open, her pen moving steadily on her notepad. She looked professional and calm. Unbothered by the destruction he was causing. He noticed how she sometimes looked at Reynolds, not with pity, but with sharp attention, like she was noting his mistakes. "Good," he thought. "Learn. Watch and see how the real world works." Then, the projector went out. The screen turned black in the middle of Reynolds's stumbling explanation. A group groan filled the room. Reyno

Ariana pov “Thank you, Clara. Really.” Ariana stood, feeling a genuine warmth spread through her chest. It was a small thing, but in this cold, calculating world, it felt like a beacon. As she walked back to her desk, the weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter. Clara’s words echoed in her mind. "He’s still my brother. He just buries it deep." She glanced at Damien’s office door. Was there really something beneath the ice? Or was Clara just trying to make her feel better? She sat down, pulling up the Tokyo acquisition files Damien had asked for earlier. She’d found them, highlighted the key points, just as he’d… expected? Demanded? She wasn’t sure anymore. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her mind sharp, focused. She was good at this. Better than she’d thought. The thrill of solving the puzzle, of understanding the complex financials and market analyses, was almost… enjoyable. She was so engrossed she didn’t hear the door to Damien’s office open. She only looked up w

“He didn’t make me cry, Mother,” Ariana said, her voice flat and weary. She walked to the kitchenette, needing distance, needing to do something with her hands. She filled a glass with water, the sound loud in the tense silence. “Oh, so he’s being nice now, is he?” Veronica’s laugh was harsh and grating. “That’s even worse! That’s how they get you, Ana. They lull you into a false sense of security. First, it’s a kind word, then it’s a touch, then….” “Stop it!” Ariana whirled around, the glass of water trembling in her hand. The dam broke. The exhaustion, the fear, the constant pressure, it all surged up, hot and furious. “Just stop it! You weren’t there! You don’t know what he’s like!” “I know what his father was like!” Veronica shot to her feet, her glass sloshing dangerously. “A snake! A liar! And Damien Voss is cut from the same rotten cloth! He’s playing with you, Ariana! He’s dangling that pathetic little company in front of you like a carrot, and you’re letting him lead you

Damien’s POV:Damien moved through the hallway with purposeful strides, his swollen eyes stinging under the fluorescent lights, a remnant of the night's failed attempts to sleep. The scotch had burned but not erased the memory, the emails had piled up but not distracted him, and the treadmill's steady thump had only echoed the chaos in his head. Now, the place felt like a minefield, every corner was a potential run-in with Ariana Blake. He kept his gaze forward, sunglasses tucked into his pocket, determined to keep the day on track. Avoidance was key—no glances her way, no unnecessary words. That slip in his office was a blip, nothing worth dwelling on.He headed for the conference room with a stack of notes for the upcoming client pitch, but his mind wandered to her. Ariana's desk was in his periphery, but he couldn't look and couldn't afford to. She was his assistant, a temporary piece in the business puzzle, not someone who could throw him off balance like this. The board's lat