I did not like the look the secretary was giving me at the moment. Her eyes were telling me that she wanted to shred me in pieces where I sat.
The subtle curl of her lips, the narrowing of her gaze—it screamed challenge, and I knew she resented me before a word was spoken.
But I was nothing if not stubborn, and I held my ground against her. Every inch of me burned to assert dominance, to show that I was no longer the powerless girl Rose had humiliated.
Damian must have noticed the tension between us because he sighed before standing and offering his hand to me. I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me up.
The secretary's eyes shone even brighter when she saw this. Her jaw clenched tightly to prevent herself from saying anything inappropriate, and I knew that the second she addressed me, her mask of calmness would break.
Her hostility was palpable, but so was the fear—fear that I might somehow usurp the attention Damian usually reserved for her.
"Boss, what are you doing—"
"I think it will be best if I accompany you as well. Seeing with my partner in public before a big event would be a good idea," Damian said, his voice cutting through the tension.
"But Sir—"
The secretary wanted to deny Damian and give him an excuse not to be with me, but his stare told everyone he was not in the mood to listen. There was a sharp authority in his gaze, one that made even the most confident subordinate hesitate.
If I, someone who hardly knew him, could see this, then there was no way the secretary could not as well. Her wide eyes confirmed she understood exactly what her boss wanted.
With one last frustrated look at me, she forced a smile onto her face.
"Of course. I will make arrangements for us to head out right away."
She turned and walked out, leaving Damian and me alone. In this confrontation, Damian had clearly taken my side. I could feel the unspoken weight of this decision; it was as if the world itself had shifted to favor me, and every nerve in my body vibrated with anticipation for what was to come.
He looked up as he noticed me watching him and gave me a small, bitter smile.
"Don't think too much about why I helped you. You are supposed to be my partner, after all. If I won't help you, then who would? Still, don't make a habit of this, because once we are done with our deal, we should go our separate ways."
Damian's words were sharp, heavy, and dangerous. Every word reminded me that this partnership was built on business, strategy, and caution—not affection. But my pulse betrayed me; the tension between us crackled like static.
"I understand. I will do my best to play my part."
'For my own revenge.'
I added silently. Recalling what I had been through d fueled the fire in me, and now I had a stage to reclaim everything I had lost.
There was no more conversation until the secretary returned, and we left to shop.
We entered a high-end mall that only served important clients. Everything here was meant for the elite, the untouchables—the kind of place Rose could never access without leaving a trail. The bills I had glimpsed in her expenditures had already given me insight into her habits. She was careless, and that would be her undoing.
The only way to know the truth was to expose every lie she had spun—and I would do it slowly, savoring every moment. This was not just revenge; it was artistry. Each public humiliation, each sly reveal would sting her like poison.
"Welcome, sir. What would you like to buy today?"
The shopkeeper asked Damian.
He ignored both the secretary and me, directing all attention toward the one with money and power—himself.
It irked me, but I knew this was how the world worked. People flocked to those with authority, and now I had a place among them, however temporary.
Damian walked in confidently, his gaze falling on a white dress. The shopkeeper noticed instantly.
"Oh—! That dress is an excellent choice. A vintage design with a modern twist. Would you like to try it on?"
Damian paused, his eyes lingering on the dress.
I could see the conflict in his mind, the pull between choosing practicality and wanting what his instincts told him to.
"Perhaps not this time. Show me something else."
He said it, but his eyes betrayed him—they never left the white dress. I had been made to change dresses countless times, but he rejected them all.
I could feel my frustration building, but I also understood—it was a test, a subtle challenge to my instincts and judgment.
Finally, I could not take it anymore.
"Please bring that white dress to me."
I pointed directly, ignoring the shopkeeper's apprehension.
"M-Miss, that dress is… I don't think that is appropriate."
I held his gaze, unyielding. No hesitation, no fear. This was a small victory, a first step in reclaiming the power Rose had stolen.
In the end, he had no choice but to hand it over. I changed quickly, emerging in the pristine white fabric. Damian's eyes widened slightly.
White was not my color, but I had practiced until I could make it mine—it was my armor, my weapon for what was to come.
The sudden silence made everyone nervous, and all eyes fell on Damian. He kept looking at me, his gaze heavy, unreadable.
"M-Miss, you should change—"
"No, we will take that dress. Ring the bill for it. I will pay in full."
Damian's mind was made up. I did not question him, but his intense scrutiny made my pulse race. He looked sharp, dangerous, predatory, like a wolf measuring its prey. I felt simultaneously vulnerable and exhilarated.
There was only one time I had seen him like this before—when we first met. Now, twelve years later, history seemed to repeat itself. Me, in a white dress, leaving as Damian's eyes bore into me with the same intensity as a predator recognizing its match.
I could feel my heartbeat, a mix of fear, excitement, and the thrill of using him as part of my plan to destroy Rose.
_______
Damian's POV
I had no idea what hit me when Jenna stepped forward. The way she held herself, her calm but sharp confidence—it was unsettling and… intriguing. My eyes had lingered on the dress, but now, on her, I felt something I could not name.
Why did my chest tighten? Why did my thoughts scatter every time she dared to meet my gaze?
She was supposed to be my partner, a tool, someone I could control. And yet… I wanted nothing more than to understand her, to see the fire behind her calm exterior.
Her eyes burned with purpose, but there was more—something unspoken, dangerous, intoxicating. I couldn't tell if it was loyalty, fear, or something else entirely. All I knew was that I could not look away.
Confusion and attraction tangled inside me in a way I had never experienced before. She was no longer just the girl from the past—I realized she had grown into something sharp, unstoppable, and possibly… mine to protect, or to be destroyed by.
I swallowed hard, uncertain of how much of my desire to keep her safe was professional and how much… wasn't. And that uncertainty thrilled and terrified me all at once.
'No, don't lose yourself. If you lose your focus, then you will lose your desire for revenge. Keep the fire burning for as long as you can. That's what Jenna would have wanted as well.'