Chapter 1
The moon hung solemnly in the dark sky, its silver glow supported by a tapestry of scattered stars. Below, the yellow streetlights stretched their weary arms across the quiet neighborhood, casting long shadows over the lonely pavement.
There, on those streets, walked young Damain. His small figure seemed swallowed by the night as he clutched his backpack to his chest, his tears falling freely. His sobs shook his fragile body, every step haunted by the weight of memories he wished he could forget.
The past was never far from him. Images of his abuse replayed in his mind like a cruel film, each memory sharper than the last. And now, once more, he found himself nearing that street, the very street where his torment had begun.
His heart pounded. He knew what awaited him there. He knew the voice that would soon call out, the command disguised as kindness. And he knew he wouldn't be able to say no, even if he wanted to.
"Damain," the voice called, soft yet suffocating, from the doorway of a house he dreaded more than anything.
He froze, trembling. Slowly, with heavy steps and hollow eyes, Damain turned toward her. His legs moved unwillingly, dragging him forward as fear curled tight around his chest. Scared, lonely, broken, he walked toward her as though caught in invisible chains.
She stepped aside with a smile that hid her cruelty. And as he crossed the threshold, the door closed behind them, sealing the night away.
Damian
Miami woke in brilliance, the morning sunlight spilling through my windows as if determined to remind me that every new day demanded power and precision. I straightened my cufflinks and gathered the few essentials I would need for the office, documents, my watch, the pen I never left behind.
Descending the polished staircase, I stepped out of the house into the crisp air where Sterling was already waiting beside the car, as punctual as ever.
"Good morning, sir," he greeted with a slight bow, swiftly taking my bag from my hand. With practiced ease, he opened the rear door and waited. I slipped into the back seat, and once I was settled, Sterling closed the door with quiet precision. He then circled the car, placed my bag neatly on the seat beside me, and slid into the driver's seat.
The engine purred to life, smooth and commanding, as we pulled away toward the office. Another day of business awaited, and I intended to own it.
-----
The morning air carried the crisp scent of ambition as I stepped into the office building, my stride purposeful, my thoughts already consumed by the day ahead. A few greetings echoed from employees as I passed, and I acknowledged them with a subtle nod, not slowing my pace.
Sterling, my ever efficient personal assistant, kept in step beside me until we reached my office. With his usual precision, he placed my bag neatly on the polished mahogany desk before retreating a step, his presence silent but steady.
Across the room, my secretary was already waiting, a folder in hand and an attentive gleam in her eyes. As she began to brief me on the day's agenda, I loosened the cuff of my jacket and glanced out the window at the city skyline.
"Today's interviews for the new recruits will be conducted here in-house," she reminded me.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.
"I'll be hosting them personally," I said, my voice even, decisive. The weight of responsibility wasn't new to me. It was a rhythm I had long mastered.
----
I walked into the interview hall and began questioning each candidate, asking them why they wanted the job.
One after another, they gave their answers, some confident, some unsure. Until the final applicant entered.
She immediately caught my attention. She was exactly my type, and there was an intensity in her eyes, a fire that spoke of both ambition and determination. I could feel her desire for the position radiating through every word she spoke.
When the session came to an end, I leaned back and said evenly, "We'll get back to you," as we wrapped up the interviews.
Sienna
I had just returned from my interview with DamainLux Development, and the weight of the day clung to me like a second skin. Exhausted, I curled into my bed, letting it swallow me whole until sleep pulled me under.
When morning broke, I awoke with a start. My heart raced as the remnants of a strange, unsettling dream clung to me. In it, I had seen him. Damain Blackwood, the enigmatic CEO of DamainLux Development. Not only had he appeared, but I had found myself in his arms, wrapped in a haze of intimacy I had no business imagining. I jolted upright with a gasp, my cheeks burning.
"Oh, no..." I muttered, pressing my hands to my face. "Why him of all people?"
-----
Three days had passed since the interview, and still, there had been no call. Each hour that ticked by had stretched my patience thinner. That morning, determined to distract myself, I decided to take a walk through the vibrant streets of Miami.
The sun was warm, the air salty with a whisper of the ocean, and I convinced myself that the city's energy might wash away my restless thoughts.
I slipped on my shoes, ready to step outside, when my phone suddenly rang. My breath caught in my throat as I snatched it up.
"Hello, ma'am," a calm voice said on the other end.
"Hello?" My reply was tentative, expectant.
"This is DamainLux Development Company. We are pleased to inform you that you've been accepted for the position of Architect Designer. You are to resume on Monday, 9 a.m. sharp.
Thank you."
For a heartbeat, silence enveloped me. Then excitement surged through me, bright and unstoppable. "Thank you," I managed, my voice trembling with joy.
I hung up and stood there in disbelief, the corners of my lips lifting into the widest smile. My heart danced as I finally stepped outside. The streets of Miami had never looked so beautiful.