Chapter 3

Damian

Mornings were all the same for me. Get up. Hit the gym. Shower. Head to the office.

It was the routine that kept everything in check. Work, meetings, building empires—it was what I was good at. What I knew.

At thirty-eight, I had achieved a lot for most of my life, things had been pretty straightforward. I built my own tech company, Wolfe Techlinks from the ground up. Worked harder than most people I knew. I didn't come from money. I didn't have the luxury of failing and starting over. Failure wasn't an option when you had no safety net waiting to catch you.

Growing up, I learned early that the world didn't hand you anything. You had to fight for every damn thing you wanted. So I fought. I bled. I made a name for myself. And somewhere along the way, I built a life people envied — the houses, the cars, the respect.

But none of it ever felt like enough.

Maybe that's why I never bothered settling down.

Relationships, marriage, all that—none of it fit the life I built. I liked control. And feelings... well, feelings made you reckless. Weak.

Charles was one of the few people I trusted. We'd been through hell together, built our businesses side by side. He had a family. I had boardrooms. It worked.

Charles had a daughter with his loving wife before she later passed away. Sophia was just a kid when I first met her. All wide eyes and stubborn little grins whenever she visited her father's office after school. Charles used to complain about how strong-willed she was. I used to laugh and tell him it would serve her well one day.

I didn't know when it changed. When the little girl turned into a woman. When it stopped being harmless to look at her.

Maybe it was that summer, three years ago, when she came back from college looking too damn grown, too damn beautiful. I caught myself staring more than once. Felt guilt heavy in my chest every time. She was Charles' daughter. She was off-limits.

And yet... last night proved what I tried so hard to ignore.

The moment she walked into the gala, I felt it like a punch straight to my gut. The curve of her hips, the way that dress hugged her in all the right places.

She wasn't the little girl who used to peek at me shyly when visiting Charles during her school breaks. She was a woman now. Every inch of her. And I wanted every damn inch.

The worst part? When she kissed me back on that couch, her soft body pressed against mine, it shattered completely. She had no idea just how close she was to setting me off that night.

And if I didn't get a grip on myself, I was going to do something that couldn't be undone.

A knock sounded at the door, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Come in," I said, sitting up straighter.

Mia, my secretary, stepped inside, a folder tucked in her hands. She offered a quick, polite smile. "Good morning, Mr. Wolfe."

"Morning, Mia," I replied. "What's the update?"

She moved closer to the desk. "It's about the Skyview project. The meeting with the investors is confirmed for Thursday at ten. They've sent over some additional paperwork for you to review before then."

"Put it down," I said, motioning to the desk.

She placed the folder neatly on top of the others, her fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. I didn't have the patience today.

"Anything else?"

Mia straightened immediately, sensing my mood. "No, sir."

"Good. Close the door on your way out."

She nodded and quickly left, the soft click of the door falling behind her. I let out a breath and leaned back in my chair.

**

After wrapping up the outdoor meeting with the new clients, I slipped into the backseat of my car, tugging my tie loose. The sun was already dipping low.

I had barely settled in when my phone buzzed.

Charles.

I answered immediately. "Charles."

"Damian, my man. Hope I'm not catching you at a bad time," his familiar voice boomed through the line.

"Not at all," I said, relaxing into the seat. "Meeting just ended. What's going on?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "Still stuck here. I thought it'd be a one-day thing, but looks like I have to stay a little longer to finalize some paperwork."

I shifted, sensing the frustration in his tone. "How long are we talking?"

"Maybe two or three days more," he grumbled. "I'm worried about Sophia, though. I haven't even had a proper meal with her since she got back."

I smiled faintly at that, my mind immediately painting a picture of her sitting alone at that long dining table, pouting in some kind of way.

Fuck get a grip Damian.

"She's tougher than you think," I said. "And stubborn."

He chuckled. "That she is. Still... she's been away for so long. I thought we'd have time to catch up properly."

I glanced out the window, the thought of Sophia alone in that big house stirring something low in my gut.

"I can check on her," I found myself saying. "Make sure she's okay. Won't be any trouble."

There was a pause on the line before Charles spoke again. "I'd appreciate that, Damian. You're a good man."

I didn't say anything to that. If only he knew the kind of thoughts I had about his daughter.

"Consider it done," I said instead.

"Thanks, brother. I'll call her later too. Just to hear her voice."

"Safe travels," I said before hanging up.

I leaned my head back against the seat, my mind already racing ahead. Checking on Sophia was a terrible idea. But it was already too late. I wanted to see her again. And this time, there would be no father around to save her from me.

**

I pulled up to Charles' house just as the evening sky turned a shade darker, the porch lights on.

For a second, I stayed inside the car, gripping the wheel, wondering what the hell I was doing here.

This wasn't just checking on a friend's daughter.

Not when the only thing flashing through my mind was the way her body felt pressed against mine last night.

I killed the engine and walked up the stone steps, my hand pausing at the door before I finally pressed on the doorbell.

It took a moment, but soon I heard soft footsteps from inside. The door creaked open slightly—and there she was.

Her hair was a messy tumble down her shoulders, and she wore a simple oversized t-shirt that barely covered her thighs. She blinked up at me, her eyes wide, clearly surprised.

"Mr Damian?" Her voice was a soft, unsure whisper.

I leaned one shoulder casually against the doorframe, forcing a smirk even though my blood was already heating under my skin.

"Hey, Sophia," I said. "Your dad asked me to check on you. Hope I'm not crashing anything important."

She stared at me for a beat longer, like she wasn't sure if she should let me in or slam the door in my face.

Then she stepped back, opening the door wider.

"No," she said, her voice a little breathless. "Um... come in."

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the house mixed with something softer—something that clung to her.

Sophia closed the door behind me, and for a few seconds, neither of us said a word.

"So," I said, clearing my throat, "You surviving being left all alone?"

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she shrugged, trying to act casual even as her cheeks flushed.

"Yeah. Barely."

My eyes dropped for a second, taking in the way her t-shirt shifted over her body when she moved. Jesus Christ. I needed to remember she was off-limits.

Even if she was standing there, looking like every bad decision I ever wanted to make.

An awkward silence stretched between us. I leaned my elbow on the armrest, studying her.

"You uncomfortable with me here?" I asked, keeping my tone light.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, caught. "No," she said quickly, a little too quickly. She forced a small smile and stood up. "Let me get you something to drink."

Before I could answer, she hurried off toward the kitchen.

I leaned back, breathing out through my nose.

Damn, she was nervous. And it wasn't helping my situation any—the tightness in my jeans already growing worse the longer I sat there, thinking about last night... and how good her body had felt pressed to mine.

A minute later, she returned with a glass of water, offering it to me with a shy little tilt of her head.

I took it, letting my fingers brush against hers on purpose, needing the small contact more than I cared to admit.

"Thanks," I said, my voice rough.

Sophia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding my gaze. "I'll just grab my phone... see if my dad texted,"

She turned and disappeared upstairs.

Growling under my breath, I reached down to adjust the uncomfortable bulge pressing against my zipper. This was getting out of hand.

I stood up, grabbed my empty glass, and made my way to the kitchen. At least putting the glass away gave me something to do—other than think about pinning Sophia against the nearest wall.

I set the glass in the sink and turned around—only to find Sophia right there, bumping into my chest.

She let out a soft gasp, stumbling back a step.

"Sorry," she muttered, looking up at me through her lashes. "I thought... I thought you'd left."

I could feel her warmth, her scent wrapping around me like a damn trap. Neither of us moved.

The tension snapped tight between us, electric, dangerous. Sophia licked her bottom lip, "About last night..." She whispered trailing off.

I looked down at her mouth, my hands balling into fists at my sides to keep from reaching for her. "Yeah?" I rasped.

"What we did..."

I tilted my head, my hand somehow finding her waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. "What about it?" My voice dropped even lower, rougher.

She swallowed hard, her eyes locking with mine. "I don't know what happened last night..." she whispered, "But I think... I think I want it again."

And just like that, I knew I was screwed.