Damien

“Darius Sinclair is on line one,” Johnathon, my assistant said, speaking through the interoffice intercom.

My gaze went to one of my computer screens preparing me for my upcoming meeting. I was concentrating on the business because if I didn’t, if I thought about the woman about to enter my office, my circulation would give me away. The last person I wanted to talk to was my brother. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“I have, sir. ...