HATE ME THEN HOLD ME
The first time Ava Sinclair met Damon Blackwell, she was twenty minutes late and completely out of breath.
The elevator had jammed halfway up the fifty-second floor, leaving her trapped with a flickering light and the scent of burnt metal. By the time the doors finally released, her blouse clung to her skin, and her heartbeat roared in her ears. She should have turned back. Instead, she straightened her blazer, fixed her lipstick in the steel reflection, and walked into Blackwell Holdings like a woman born for war.
The office was a cathedral of glass and silence. Everything smelled expensive—coffee, leather, and control.
Behind a wide mahogany desk sat the man himself. Damon Blackwell looked up, expression unreadable, jaw set like it had been carved from arrogance.
“You’re late.”
His voice was smooth but sharp enough to slice.
Ava refused to flinch. “The elevator stopped working. I took the stairs.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “All fifty-two floors?”
“Forty-eight,” she corrected, forcing her breathing to steady. “The rest were adrenaline.”
Something flickered behind his eyes—amusement, curiosity, maybe both. “You’re either insane or desperate.”
“I prefer ambitious,” she said, sliding into the chair across from him.
That earned the ghost of a smile. He leaned back, fingers steepled. “Why do you want to work here?”
“Because you hire people no one else can handle,” she replied. “And I like difficult men.”
The air thickened. Damon’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “Careful, Miss Sinclair. You might just get what you ask for.”
“I usually do.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it pulsed. Two predators circling, deciding who would bite first.
He flipped through her résumé, though she suspected he wasn’t reading. “You’ve changed companies three times in two years.”
“I outgrew them,” she said simply.
“And if you outgrow me?”
“Then you’ll have to rise to keep up.”
That did it. The faintest smirk curved his mouth. “You start Monday.”
Her heart tripped. “That’s it? No second interview?”
“I don’t need two meetings to recognize trouble.”
When the interview ended, Ava rose, adjusting her blazer. She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked away—measuring, memorizing, maybe daring her to look back. She didn’t.
The elevator doors closed behind her like a secret sealing shut.
Inside the office, Damon spoke without lifting his gaze from the door.
“Send me her file,” he told his assistant.
“You’re hiring her?”
He swirled the coffee in his glass, dark eyes still fixed where she’d stood.
“I just want to see how long she can survive.”
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She didn’t know it then—but walking into his office was the easiest part.
Because falling for Damon Blackwell would be the most dangerous interview of her life.
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Enemies to lovers. Power. Temptation. And a love that cuts both ways.
Next Chapter: The Contract — where ambition starts looking a lot like desire.
