Aurora barely slept a wink the night before.
She'd spent half of it Googling River Damon (bad idea) and the other half screaming into her pillow while her brain replayed every filthy sound she made in the back of his car.
According to the internet, River was more than just hot and rich.
He was terrifying.
Rumors swirled like smoke:
Money laundering. Arms deals. People who crossed the Damon family tended to disappear. No arrests. No charges. Just whispered warnings like, "Don't owe him a favor" and "If River calls, change your number and your country."
Now, she had to work beside him. Alone. In the East Wing office he was temporarily using which, surprise! — was also now hers.
Two desks. One shared space.
Corporate hall.
She stepped into the room and froze
River was already there — lounging in a black leather chair, legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the edge of a tattoo at his collarbone.
He looked like sin on a throne.
"Morning, assistant," he said without looking up, voice like warm whiskey.
"I'm not your assistant."
"You are today."
Aurora rolled her eyes, walking past him to her desk with the kind of stiff spine reserved for dealing with cocky demons.
"I'm here for the architecture proposal. Not to babysit a mafia prince with commitment issues."
He smirked. "Did you just slut-shame me and call me royalty?"
She turned, arms folded. "You're not royalty. You're a red flag with a bank account."
He stood up slowly, stepping close — too close.
"Sweetheart, I'm the whole damn danger zone."
Her pulse spiked. She hated how her body reacted. Every time he moved, it was like her hormones threw a party and invited zero logic.
"Back off," she warned, voice lower.
He didn't.
He walked her straight to her desk, caging her between him and the edge of the table. His hand rested beside hers, inches apart.
"I don't think you get it yet," he murmured, eyes locked on hers. "I'm not your coworker. I'm not your boss. I'm the one man in this building who could have you fired, promoted, or married by lunch — depending on how you behave."
Aurora blinked. "Is that a threat or a proposal?"
"Both," he said with a smile that could start wars.
Just then, a knock at the door broke the tension.
A man in a cheap suit stepped in, sweaty and twitchy. "Mr. Damon… the thing in Jersey's been handled."
River's whole demeanor changed.
The smile vanished.
His tone went ice-cold. "Was it clean?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
"Good. Leave."
The man bolted. Aurora just stared.
"What the hell was that?"
River turned back to her, adjusting his cuffs like nothing happened.
"Nothing important. Just some… unfinished business."
"You're not denying it."
He walked past her, grabbing a file from the cabinet like he didn't just confirm her worst suspicions.
"I'm not in the business of denying things. I'm in the business of owning them."
She stared at his back, unsure if she was more turned on or terrified.
Probably both.
Definitely both.
And the worst part?
She liked it.