The two hours between the end of the workday and seven o'clock passed in a slow, agonizing crawl. The executive floor emptied out, the sounds of departing voices and elevator chimes fading into a profound silence. Elena sat at her desk, the printed email and server log feeling like a shield and a weapon all at once.
She rehearsed what she would say a dozen times. She would be professional, cold, just like him. She would present the facts about Jenna's sabotage and demand a transfer, or at least a formal apology. She would not let him see how much his coldness hurt her. She would not mention the past.
At 6:59 PM, she stood and walked to his office door. It was slightly ajar. She knocked.
"Enter."
His voice was low, devoid of its usual commanding edge. She pushed the door open. The office was bathed in the deep blue light of the city at dusk, the floor-to-ceiling windows framing a glittering tapestry of stars and streetlights. Damon was standing by the window, his back to her, silhouetted against the skyline. He had discarded his suit jacket and tie, and the top button of his shirt was undone. He looked less like a CEO and more like a man weighed down by something heavy.
"Close the door," he said, without turning around.
She did, the soft click echoing in the vast room. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
"The server logs confirmed it," he stated flatly. "Jenna accessed the file at 8:02 this morning. She altered the slide."
Elena's breath caught. So he knew. "What are you going to do?"
"I've already done it. She's been terminated. Effective immediately."
The swift, merciless action should have felt like victory. But it only made the room feel colder. This was the Damon who built an empire: ruthless and efficient.
"Thank you," Elena said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "For believing me."
Finally, he turned. The city lights played across the sharp planes of his face, but his eyes were shadowed. "I didn't believe you. I investigated a discrepancy. There's a difference."
The words were meant to push her away, to reestablish the distance he so desperately clung to. But instead of feeling hurt, Elena felt a spark of anger. She was tired of the games.
"Why did you really hire me, Damon?"
He stiffened. "You were a qualified candidate."
"Don't," she snapped, taking a step forward. The professional facade she'd planned to wear crumbled into dust. "Don't insult us both. You told me I had no experience. You said this company doesn't take chances. So why? Was it guilt? Or was it some kind of power play? To have me here, where you could watch me fail?"
His jaw tightened. A muscle twitched in his cheek. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" She could feel the old wounds splitting open, the pain making her brave. "Four years ago, you left without a word. You vanished from my life as if I meant nothing. And now you pretend I'm nothing? Look at me and tell me you don't remember."
The air crackled between them. The carefully constructed wall of professionalism shattered. He took a sudden, sharp step toward her, his eyes blazing with a fire she hadn't seen since they were kids. It was full of anger, yes, but also a raw, undeniable pain.
"Remember?" he bit out, his voice low and rough. "Do you think a day has gone by that I haven't remembered?"
The confession hung in the air, shocking them both. Elena stared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was the truth, raw and unvarnished.
"Then why?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why did you leave?"
For a long moment, he just looked at her, his guard completely down. He looked younger, haunted. He opened his mouth to speak, and in his eyes, she saw a war—the need to tell her battling a deep, ingrained fear.
But the moment was shattered by the sharp buzz of his personal phone on the desk. The screen lit up with a name: Victoria.
The name hit Elena like a physical blow. Victoria. His mother.
Damon flinched, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second as if the name caused him physical pain. When he opened them, the vulnerability was gone, sealed away behind the familiar, impenetrable mask. The CEO was back.
"We're done here," he said, his voice cold and final once more. He turned his back to her, picking up the phone. "The matter with Jenna is closed. Your position here is secure. That's all you need to know."
Dismissed. Just like that.
Elena stood frozen for a second, the whiplash of the moment leaving her dizzy. The ghost of the boy she loved had been right there, and had been chased away by a name from a past she never understood.
Without another word, she turned and left, closing the door softly behind her. As she walked through the dark, empty office, she knew one thing for certain.
It was never just about a job. The past wasn't just catching up; it was a locked door, and the key was a woman named Victoria. And Elena knew, with a terrifying certainty, that she wouldn't be able to rest until she found out what was behind it.