Chapter Two: His Name Was Damon Blackthorn
The morning after the masquerade felt like a hangover Ava never drank for.
She sat on the crowded subway in her scuffed heels and thrifted blazer, cradling a lukewarm cup of coffee and silently praying the universe had forgotten last night ever happened. She hadn't slept. Not with him lingering in her mind—his sharp gray eyes, the way he saw right through her, the way her breath had caught when he leaned in too close.
She shook the memory off like a bad dream.
It was just a party. He doesn't know who I am.
And even if he did, the city was big. Men like Damon Blackthorn didn't follow up on masked girls who didn't belong.
By the time she reached her office building, she'd talked herself into calmness.
Until she saw the chaos.
The lobby was packed with reporters, assistants with clipboards, security scanning badges, and a new gold-plated sign replacing the old company logo: BLACKTHORN INDUSTRIES.
Her stomach dropped.
No.
No, no, no.
She pushed through the crowd and found her co-worker Marcie standing near the elevators with her mouth agape.
"What's going on?" Ava asked, heart racing.
Marcie barely looked at her. "Didn't you get the email? Blackthorn bought us out. The merger happened overnight. He owns the company now."
Ava's coffee nearly slipped from her hand. She gripped it tighter, trying to keep her panic from showing.
Please don't let it be the same man. Please tell me this is some other Blackthorn...
The elevator doors opened, and silence fell.
He stepped out.
Gray suit. Dark hair. Piercing eyes.
The same man who had pulled her into the moonlight and told her she'd found trouble.
Damon Blackthorn.
And he was looking straight at her.
His lips twitched—not into a smile, but into something darker. Satisfaction.
She turned, about to flee, but her name cut across the lobby like a whip.
"Miss Carter."
She stopped cold.
Every head turned toward her. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Slowly, Ava turned to face him, lifting her chin.
Damon was already approaching, each step deliberate and predatory. He stopped in front of her, his expression unreadable—but his eyes... God, his eyes were devouring.
"In my office. Now," he said simply.
She swallowed. "I'm on shift. I have reports to file—"
"I own your shift."
The way he said it—calm, cool, final—burned in her ears.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to.
Without another word, he turned and walked back into the elevator.
She stood frozen for a beat too long. Then, through gritted teeth and a thousand warning bells going off in her head, she followed him.
---
❖ In His Office
The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, she exploded.
"You set me up," she said, eyes flashing. "Was that your plan? Follow me from the masquerade and buy out the company just to mess with me?"
He didn't answer right away. The silence in the glass-walled elevator was suffocating.
"No," Damon said eventually. "The buyout was already happening. You were just...a surprise bonus."
The doors opened.
His office was enormous—floor-to-ceiling windows, a skyline view, cold steel and clean marble. It looked exactly like the man who owned it.
He moved behind the desk, adjusted his cufflinks, and fixed his gaze on her.
"Why did you lie about your name?"
"Because I wasn't supposed to be there."
"And yet you were."
She folded her arms. "Are you going to fire me?"
"No," he said smoothly. "That would be too easy."
She stiffened. "Then what do you want?"
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
"I want you under my supervision."
Her stomach twisted.
"You're making me your assistant?"
He smiled—slow and dangerous. "Congratulations on the promotion."
---
❖ Chapter Ending Hook:
"You don't own me," she said, defiant.
"Oh, Ava," Damon murmured, standing up and crossing the space between them until he was just inches from her. "We'll see about that."
His voice was a promise—and a threat.
And in that moment, Ava knew the game had truly begun.