EMMA'S POV
I wasn't expecting this or….him, as a matter of fact I wasn't expecting anyone.
It was way too late for a client to show up. I have been trying to close up, go home and do what I can do for myself; slipping into my comfortable pj, hot coco and watching Netflix to rewind from the stressful day.
Just then, I heard the sound of shoes echoing across the hall which led to my office and before I could think, the door was pushed open….no knocking.
He just walked in and had an aura around him. He commanded the space.
The man who just walked in was not just attractive, he wasn't even just powerful. He had some sort of presence that made the air thick, like you needed permission to breathe.
He was tall, had broad shoulders, and his dark hair was perfectly cut. His well tailored suit was well fitted for his body and those blue eyes, they were piercing and unreadable.
He didn't introduce himself or even asked if he was at the wrong place.
His eyes met mine and I had a feeling that he knew everything he needed to know and trying to make any formal introduction was useless.
"You are Emma Lawson." His low voice made me shiver in fright and that's when I realized that he didn't ask me a question but I still answered.
I nodded my head slowly, I could hear my heart beating loudly into my ears, I swallowed as I dared to ask, "and who are you?"
His eyebrows went up, "I think you already know."
I frowned.
I wanted to say something. I hate mind games and I could tell it was from afar. I was disgusted with the way he carried himself.
"I don't think…."
"Damian Cross."
He interrupted me before I could complete my statement.
I froze.
I have heard that name, read it a million times. The infamous billionaire tycoon, the man who was k won as the 'THE MAD KING'. The man who made the entire board of lawmakers feel stupid and the man who his own shadow fears.
He was fucking standing in my office?
He walked past the chair, which was across me. The one client usually sits in when they come in for a session but he didn't. He walked straight to the window and looked down at the city with an intense and prideful look. It was like he owned the city.
But what am I say…he owned the fucking city.
"I was of the knowledge that you can be discreet?" He asked but he wasn't looking at me, he was looking somewhere else.
"Yes? I go by the code of my profession to keep all records of my clients between the both of us, also you had me sign a NDA."
My eyes darted, got his reflection in the mirror and it looked like he was about to smile, but he paused "good, so I can make this clear to you." He turned around and his eyes fell on me.
"You are not here to fix me."
I was stunned. What the hell is going on? The people who come here are actually here to be fixed so I was confused.
"I…I don't get it."
"You are here to listen." He followed up.
My eyes darted everywhere across the room. This wasn't going to be a normal session.
"So, why are you here then?" I asked because I don't think someone could make a powerful man do what he doesn't want to do.
"I am here because of two reasons; firstly, my PR executive and the board think I need it and also it's 'good for business'. Secondly, I hate that I have to carry the weight of not being able to go out with this intense anger."
"Intense anger?"
"Did you not see the news?"
I shrugged, "I don't watch the news."
He gave me a look but did not judge me, "apparently beating up a man and almost sending him to the great beyond is not a normal behavior."
My mouth fell wild open in surprise. How is that supposed to be normal?
The way he casually said it made me know I had a whole lot on my plate, "so, did you do it for a reason?"
He looked at and then back at the window, "do you care or are you trying to do your job?"
I really don't give a fuck about this man but I am being paid millions of dollar for this session, so I can pretend for a while.
"Hmmm, both?"
He gave me a curious look and I kind of froze. I cleared my throat and tried to use the simple techniques I used in my client.
"I do care about what you think and why you think you don't need to be here."
"I don't need to be here" he followed up.
Then silence, I had nothing to say. It was like a zipper was sewed to my lips.
This is fucking strange.
He moved to the chair, picked up his jacket. I guess we are done for the day. It was barely twenty minutes since he came in and he was ready to go.
"That's enough for today."
"But…."
He pulled out a check book, which I was surprised that people still used till this day. He wrote something on it and tore it out from the book which he then handed to me.
Fifty thousand dollars ($50,000).
I was stunned this was my month's salary or two if possible.
What the actually fuck.
"That's for your trouble. Also, from now on we won't be doing this session in this dusty and stuffy office of yours." He said and I looked around my office.
It was okay and comfortable, so what was he complaining about this time?
"Hmmm, so where would it be?"
"At my house, at midnight."
"What!"
And that's when it hit me, this was going to be the longest session I have ever taken.