Aria Hale had never been more certain of two things in her life: one, she was destined to die of embarrassment, and two, her roommate was going to roast her mercilessly before that happened.
She stumbled into the apartment close to midnight, shoes dangling from one hand, her cardigan wrapped tight around her shoulders like a cloak of shame. Claire was perched on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a cucumber face mask, the picture of relaxed judgment.
"You look like a raccoon that lost a fight with a trash can," Claire said without looking away from the TV.
Aria threw herself into the armchair with a dramatic groan. "Forget raccoon. Try tragic heroine. Or maybe tragic idiot."
That got Claire's attention. She paused the show, ripped off her mask, and narrowed her eyes. "Spill. And don't you dare give me the 'work was stressful' excuse. I want the whole soap opera."
Aria peeked up, already regretting opening her mouth. "Okay, so… Damian Blackwood—"
Claire nearly dropped her popcorn. "The Boss? The devastatingly hot Boss with the murder eyes and the jawline that could slice bread?"
"Yes, that one," Aria said miserably. "He was there last night. In the office. With me. Alone."
Claire gasped like she'd just won the lottery. "Shut up. Shut. Up. You had a late-night rendezvous with the company's CEO? Why are you still alive to tell me this?"
Aria flailed her arms. "It wasn't a rendezvous! It was terrifying! He just—he showed up out of nowhere and started saying cryptic stuff like 'This building isn't safe at night.' Who says that? That's serial killer dialogue!"
Claire's grin stretched ear to ear. "So… he cornered you in a dark office and whispered ominous things in his deep, sexy voice?"
Aria smacked her with a throw pillow. "No! Well—yes, but not like that! And then I panicked and called him a corporate vampire to his face!"
There was a long silence. Claire blinked, then burst into uncontrollable laughter, practically rolling off the couch. "Oh my god, Aria. A corporate vampire? I can't breathe!"
Aria buried her head in her hands. "He's going to fire me. I'll be a legend in HR. The girl who accused the CEO of being a vampire."
Claire wiped her eyes. "No, trust me, if he hasn't fired you yet, he's intrigued. Men like that don't waste time. You amuse him."
That thought made Aria's cheeks warm in ways she did not want to unpack. She shoved it away, muttering, "Or maybe he's just planning my public execution."
---
The next morning, Aria marched into the office armed with coffee and determination. New day, new me. No disasters. No awkward vampire jokes.
She barely made it to her desk before Jenna from marketing leaned over her cubicle wall with a smirk. "Sooo… rumor has it you and Mr. Blackwood had a little late-night meeting yesterday."
Aria nearly spat out her coffee. "What?! Who told you that?!"
"Word gets around," Jenna sing-songed. "People saw you leave after him. Alone. At night."
Aria sputtered. "It wasn't like that! He just… appeared! Like Batman, but scarier! And then he said creepy things and I panicked!"
Two more coworkers popped their heads up like gossiping prairie dogs. "Wait, so it's true?" one whispered. "You were alone with him?"
"Did he… you know… smile at you?" another asked dramatically.
Aria threw her hands in the air. "No! He doesn't smile! He broods! He broods like it's his full-time job!"
The entire group stifled giggles. Before Aria could dig her grave deeper, the atmosphere on the floor shifted.
Silence fell like a hammer. Damian Blackwood had arrived.
He strode through the office with his usual controlled precision, exuding authority with every step. Conversations died instantly. Chairs creaked as people pretended to type furiously.
Aria ducked into her chair, praying for invisibility. But as he passed, his eyes flicked toward her—just for a heartbeat. A flicker, nothing more. Yet the weight of it sent her pulse racing.
She glued her eyes to her monitor. Okay. He definitely heard the gossip. I'm dead. This is how I die.
---
By lunchtime, she was still alive, though barely. She carried her sad little salad into the cafeteria and tried to disappear into the corner. Unfortunately, her coworkers had other plans.
"So," Jenna whispered, sliding into the seat across from her, "what really happened? Did he confess his undying love? Bite your neck? Turn into a bat?"
Aria groaned. "If I say yes, will you let me eat in peace?"
Before Jenna could reply, a hush spread across the cafeteria. Aria followed their gaze. Damian Blackwood had entered. Alone.
He moved with quiet grace, every eye tracking him. He sat at his usual table, scrolling through his phone like a king surveying his court.
But Aria couldn't stop staring. She told herself it was curiosity, but deep down, it was something else—something she couldn't name.
Then it happened.
Across the room, two employees whispered. Aria wasn't even trying to listen, but their words carried unnaturally clear.
"…heard something last night. Growling, from the top floor…"
"…Blackwood's office, right? Place gives me the creeps…"
Aria froze, fork halfway to her mouth. Growling? Her gaze darted back to Damian's table. He hadn't moved. But as if sensing her attention, he lifted his head.
Their eyes locked.
It was like being caught in headlights. His gaze wasn't just looking—it was weighing, stripping her down to her thoughts.
Her breath hitched. And for the briefest second, she swore his pupils narrowed, sharp and animal-like.
She blinked. Gone. Just his usual dark, unreadable stare.
Aria forced a shaky laugh, stabbing her lettuce like it had wronged her. It's fine. Totally fine. He's not a vampire. Or a werewolf. Or whatever. He's just a terrifying CEO who can probably smell fear.
Still, when she dared glance up again, he was still watching. Not casually, not accidentally. Watching her.
And something in her gut whispered: she was right to be afraid.
---
That night, back in her apartment, Claire cornered her with another bowl of popcorn. "So, anything exciting happen today? Did the vampire boss bite you yet?"
Aria groaned into a pillow. "Claire, I'm begging you. Stop. He's not a vampire. He's… something worse. A man with unlimited power and no sense of humor."
Claire grinned. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that while you swoon every time he looks at you."
Aria rolled her eyes, but when she closed them later in bed, she saw those eyes again—dark, watchful, almost inhuman.
And deep down, she knew Claire was wrong. Damian Blackwood wasn't just her boss. He was something else entirely.
Something she wasn't ready to face.