Damian’s POV

Her eyes. They are just like Sophia’s. It was the first thing I thought about when she slid into my

car an hour ago, and now, it is the only thing I seem to be able to think about, watching her plead

for a job I genuinely don’t think she needs.

I know a rich child when I see one. The luxuriant skin, the dress that costs a lot, those shoes that

were made in only five pairs.

She tries not to act it, but it seeps through the cracks. And it makes me wonder why she wants

this job so desperately.

“Please,” her voice breaks. Sophia holds on to her like she is a lifeline. I have never seen Sophia

this way with anyone other than me. Not even her little security team.

“Mandy…Elena. You already lied about your name. How can I trust that you are not lying about

something else? How can I trust my child with you?”

“Sir…” she stammers. “Mr. Crowe, please. I was going to say something when you called me

Mandy back in the car, but … But I just…”

Her lips fall open and then close again. She takes a deep breath and turns to face Sophia. “It was

really nice meeting you, pretty girl.”

Standing next to each other, it is impossible to look away from the force they represent. I have

always found Sophia’s eyes really uncommon. Who would have known there was someone else

with the replica of the same shade of green?

She slides her hands off Sophia’s and walks around me, heading to the door. My daughter tears

up immediately, running to grab my wrist.

“Daddy, please, don’t let her go,” she wails, her tiny nails digging into my skin. “I want her.”

“Sophia, I will get you someone else that you will like. It doesn’t have to be her.”

“But Dad, it has!” She whines, tears rolling down her face. “Daddy!”

“Fine!” I sigh, hating the sight of Sophia crying. “Really?” they ask at the same time, it’s almost satisfying.

“Yes. Really. The driver will take you home and bring you back.”

Elena pulls Sophia into her arms, and they both squeal like little children, jumping up and down

in the space. I wait a minute longer before I scoop Sophia off the floor with one arm. “I’ll be

waiting, Elena. And remember to sign the NDA tonight.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowe.”

“Tonight, Elena,” I repeat. This is a very important part of the process. I have had situations

where our position was almost made public knowledge. I am never going to put Sophia in danger

like that.

She nods and turns around, while Sophia wraps her hands around my neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”

***

“The investors are asking that we move the next event to Singapore,” my assistant and best

friend says over the phone. I am seated behind the desk in my study, a glass of scotch in one

hand, and my eyes staring fixedly at the screen in front of me.

It is dark in here, just the way I like it.

“Can we do that? Singapore.”

“Yes, Damian,” he says, in a tone that tells me there is something else.

“But…”

“The Marcellis are supposed to be hosting an event in Singapore too, in the same period. Do you

think...”

“No,” I say sharply, bringing the rim of the glass to my lips. “The Marcellis are bound to use the

same hall as I and I … I am not ready to face that man. Victor. When I do, it will be to shred him

to pieces, and now is not the right time.”

“How about the shares you have been secretly buying from his company? What plans do you

have for that?” “I want to buy him out of his own empire,” I mutter, the memories of that night flooding in. The

night I walked in on my father with a noose hanging around his neck. I lost two things that night:

the company I was meant to inherit and the man I looked up to.

“I want to watch that man and his entire family bleed the way he made me.”

“Damian, be careful.”

The line clicks dead, and I take a deep breath, bringing the glass to my lips again. A knock

echoes on the door, and I pull myself to my feet, strolling to the door. But when I pull it open, I

meet no one there.

And on the floor is the NDA left in Elena’s room, duly filled and signed. I pick it off the floor,

but rather than return to my study, I allow my feet to carry me through the hallway and into the

kitchen.

I am grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator when I hear a light chuckle coming from the

living room. I head in that direction, my feet faltering when I reach the edge of the room.

Sophia and Elena are sprawled by the fireplace, scribbling in a sketchpad. There are crayons

scattered everywhere on the floor. Sophia scratches her eyes wearily, but Elena doesn’t notice it.

My daughter is trying really hard to stay awake just to enjoy the moment.

“Elena,” I call, still hidden in the shadows. Her head jerks in my direction, and she jumps to her

feet at once. “She’s tired.”

I walk into the living room, pulling Sophia off the floor and into my arms easily. She nestles her

head between my head and my shoulders, immediately falling asleep.

Elena trails softly behind us as I move into Sophia’s room, placing her gingerly underneath the

pink duvet. She barely stirs, already lost in dreams.

When I turn, Elena is still there, hovering by the doorway. I take a step toward her, meaning to

walk out of the room. But she moves at the last minute, and when I turn, my shoulder brushes

her.

“Mr. Crowe,” she breathes. I am standing close to her. Too close. “I just want to say how

grateful I am for this opportunity.” “You are on probation, Elena,” I mutter in a low tone. “One step out of line and you’ll be gone.”

She nods, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth. Something funny happens with my chest,

and I pull myself out of the room before my dark thoughts take over.