The city stirred in the fading light when Amara finally stepped outside Sterling Tower. The last streaks of sun clung stubbornly to the skyline, their dying fire swallowed by neon signs and streetlamps flickering awake. The air was cooler now, crisp against her overheated skin, carrying the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby cart and the sharp tang of car exhaust.
Her body screamed for rest. Every muscle throbbed from the loads of assignments Damian had stacked on her. Her eyes burned from hours staring at glowing screens. And still, she knew sleep was a luxury she couldn't afford at least not tonight.
Because she had promised Jade.
Jade Monroe had forgiven her too many times missed birthdays, canceled lunches, rushed phone calls that ended with, I'll call you back later. Tonight, Amara was determined not to let Sterling Enterprises consume every corner of her life.
The restaurant Jade picked was a warm contrast to the cold skyscraper she had just escaped. Inside, amber lighting painted everything in honeyed hues, jazz murmured from a corner speaker, and the low hum of conversations created a cocoon of comfort.
Jade was already there, seated at a corner table draped in crisp white linen, curls spilling over her shoulders like a halo. She rose the moment she spotted Amara, her smile part relief, part exasperation.
"You're late," Jade said, hugging her anyway. "But you're here. That's progress."
Amara sank into the chair with a tired laugh. "I'm sorry. Damian Sterling has a very loose interpretation of business hours."
Jade's eyes widened, playful. "So it is true. The infamous wolf of Wall Street himself." She sipped her wine with a grin. "Tell me everything."
Menus were exchanged, orders placed. Amara felt the tension in her shoulders ease as the warmth of the room wrapped around her. Jade filled the air effortlessly, as she always did complaining about a disastrous date, describing her latest art exhibit, joking about her mother's endless lectures about settling down.
For the first time in days, Amara let herself smile. She let herself be. The weight of Sterling Tower loosened its grip.
Until her phone buzzed.
The sound was sharp, jarring against the mellow background.
Amara flipped it face up. Her chest tightened.
Sterling!
Jade's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare."
Amara ignored the call, pressing her palm over the screen as though she could smother it.
The phone buzzed again. And again.
Jade set her glass down sharply. "Amara, look at me. This is your time. Our time. You can survive one dinner without answering him."
But Amara's hand trembled. Damian Sterling didn't call without reason. And the persistence… it wasn't just work. It was a demand.
She forced a smile. "I'll be quick."
"Amara"
But she was already slipping out into the cool night air.
The city street outside buzzed with life couples laughing, cabs honking, the smell of garlic and spices wafting from the kitchens . Amara stepped away from the window's glow, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Mr. Sterling?"
His voice was low, steady, threaded with irritation. "When I give you an assignment, Miss Blake, I expect you to be reachable."
Her stomach twisted. "It's after hours. I'm… out."
A pause. Heavy, weighted. She could almost hear his disapproval in the silence.
"Out," he repeated. His voice wrapped around the word, cold and biting. "I see. Tell me, Miss Blake, do you imagine Sterling Enterprises pauses for your social calendar?"
Her throat tightened. "I wasn't"
"I need a file from my office. A client will be calling me within the hour. You'll return and retrieve it."
Her pulse kicked. "Now?"
"Yes, now."
She stared at the people walking past her on the sidewalk people laughing, free, unburdened. For a moment, she imagined herself saying no. Hanging up. Returning inside to Jade and the simple joy of a shared meal.
But the weight of his voice pressed down, heavy as iron.
"Yes, Mr. Sterling," she whispered.
"Good girl."
The line went dead.
When she returned to the table, Jade's expression was a storm.
"Don't even say it," Jade muttered, stabbing her fork into the bread basket. "The boss calls, and you run."
Amara lowered herself into the chair, her appetite gone. "It's not"
"It is," Jade snapped. "Amara, you're brilliant. You're capable. You don't need to chain yourself to some corporate tyrant just to prove you belong in that world."
Her chest ached. She wanted to argue, but the truth was tangled too tightly inside her. Damian didn't just demand her time. He consumed her thoughts. His presence lingered even in his absence. And the worst part? A secret, treacherous part of her thrilled at the intensity.
"Jade…" She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I don't know how to explain it. But I need this job. I need to make it work."
Jade's eyes softened. "Because of your father?"
The air stilled.
Amara's hands curled in her lap. "Because of everything," she said finally.
Jade reached across the table, squeezing her hand. "Then promise me one thing. Promise me you won't lose yourself in the process."
Amara swallowed hard. "I'll try."
But deep down, she wasn't sure she could.
Sterling Tower was a different beast at night.
The lobby, once buzzing with activity, was hushed and hollow. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered faintly, humming like bees trapped in glass. Her heels echoed as she crossed the marble floor, each step reverberating in the emptiness.
The elevator ride felt like a descent, even though it carried her upward. The mirrored walls reflected her face back at her: pale, tense, lips pressed into a hard line.
The office corridors were dim, shadows stretching long across the carpet. She pushed open Damian's office door, the familiar scent of leather and cedarwood lingering in the air.
The file sat exactly where he said it would, on the edge of his desk, as though waiting for her. She gathered it quickly, eager to leave.
That was when she felt it eyes on her.
"Working late, Miss Blake?"
The voice slid through the silence, smooth and mocking.
She spun.
Adrian Cole leaned against the doorframe, tie loosened, jacket unbuttoned. His smile was easy, but his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Her pulse spiked. "Just picking up something."
"For Sterling?" He pushed off the frame, strolling into the office like he owned it. "Of course. Always for Sterling."
His tone dripped with disdain, but underneath, there was something sharper. Calculation.
"What's your angle, Mr. Cole?" she asked, clutching the file closer.
Adrian's smile widened. "My angle? Let's just say I admire ambition. But loyalty…" He circled slowly, his gaze raking over her. "Loyalty to the wrong man can destroy you."
Her breath caught. "What are you implying?"
"That Damian Sterling plays games no one wins but him. And you?" His eyes locked on hers, piercing. "You're already his pawn."
Her grip tightened. "Goodnight, Mr. Cole."
She brushed past him, refusing to let him see her shake.
But as the elevator doors closed behind her, his voice followed, low and taunting:
Be careful, Amara. The higher he pulls you, the harder the fall.
She rode down in silence, the file clutched to her chest, her heart hammering.
Outside, the city sprawled endlessly, indifferent to the storm building inside Sterling Enterprises.
And for the first time, Amara realized Damian Sterling wasn't the only danger she had to survive.