Chapter Three: Under His Command
Ava had never felt more out of place than she did standing in Damon Blackthorn's private office.
The walls were cold glass and steel, the desk sleek and modern, the air saturated with quiet dominance. She could feel him watching her from behind his desk, like a wolf waiting for her next move.
She kept her back straight and her chin high.
"I don't need a promotion," she said, arms crossed. "Especially one given out of—what? Pity? Punishment?"
Damon leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his palm.
"You're sharp," he said. "That's good. I don't tolerate incompetence."
"I didn't ask for this."
"No," he said. "But I don't recall asking for your permission, either."
God, he was infuriating.
Ava had faced rude managers, over-demanding bosses, and arrogant clients—but this man was something else entirely. He had power and knew it. He wielded it like a weapon.
"What exactly do you expect me to do?" she asked coolly.
He smiled.
"Keep up."
---
❖ First Task
The day spiraled into a blur of demands. Damon's instructions came fast and without room for error—schedule changes, press briefings, contract reviews. His words were clipped and precise, his tone unreadable.
By lunch, Ava had typed thirty emails, redirected three board members, and memorized his personal calendar down to the minute.
He never thanked her.
But once, when she brought him coffee, he looked at her over the rim of the cup and said, "You learn fast."
She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
---
❖ The Test
At 5:00 p.m., just as she thought the day was winding down, he called her into the office again.
"I need you to accompany me to a charity event tonight," he said without looking up from his screen.
"I'm not a personal escort."
"I don't recall asking you to be one," he replied dryly. "You'll be taking notes during board introductions. And I need someone who understands discretion."
Ava bit back her protest. She needed this job—badly. Rent was due, and her bank account had more zeros than actual money.
"I don't have anything to wear," she said finally.
Damon finally looked up. "There's a dress in the back closet. My assistant before you kept some options on hand."
Ava blinked. "That's… unsettling."
He smirked. "You'll get used to it."
She doubted that.
---
❖ The Dress
The dress was black. Silky. Fitted.
Too fitted.
As she stepped out of the private office restroom, heels clicking against the polished floor, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—and didn't recognize the woman staring back.
She looked... powerful.
And then she felt his eyes on her.
Damon had been reviewing notes on his phone, but the second she stepped into the room, he froze.
His gaze lifted, slow and deliberate.
"You'll do," he said.
The compliment wasn't soft. It was possessive.
---
❖ Chapter Ending Hook: The Event
By the time they arrived at the venue, paparazzi lights flared across the sidewalk like fireworks.
Damon reached for her hand.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"Playing the part," he murmured in her ear. "Smile, Ava. Tonight, you belong to me."