Lila Chen's back was still pressed against the boardroom table, skirt bunched at her hips, when the door clicked open.
Victor Blackwood stood in the doorway, folder tucked under one arm, that easy half-smile already curving his lips as he took in the scene Damien's shirt half-unbuttoned, Lila's hair falling loose from her bun, both of them breathing hard.
"Am I interrupting something important?" Victor asked, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, fingers tapping the edge of the folder.
Damien straightened fast, yanking Lila's skirt down with one hand while stepping in front of her. "Victor," he said, voice low and rough as he buttoned his shirt with quick jerks. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Victor lifted the folder, waving it lightly. "Just dropping off the revised Q3 projections you asked for this morning. Thought you might want them before the afternoon call." He took one step inside, eyes flicking to Lila. "Didn't realize you two were… reviewing notes so thoroughly."
Lila's fingers fumbled with the top button of her blouse, cheeks burning as she smoothed the fabric down. "Victor, it's not what it looks like," she said, stepping around Damien, voice steady even though her hands shook slightly.
Victor chuckled softly, setting the folder on the table with a soft slap. "Relax, Lila. I'm not here to cause trouble." He tilted his head, that charming half-smile widening. "Though I have to say, you look beautiful when you're flushed like that. Suits you."
Damien's hand shot out, gripping the back of a chair until the wood creaked. "Get out," he said, stepping closer to Victor. "Now. Before I forget you're my brother."
Victor held up both hands, still smiling, but his eyes stayed on Lila. "Easy, big brother. I'm leaving. Just thought Lila might want to see the numbers too. She's the one who usually catches the mistakes." He turned toward her, voice dropping. "You okay, Lila? You look a little… rattled."
Lila crossed her arms tight over her chest, fingers digging into her own sleeves. "I'm fine, Victor. Thank you for the folder. We'll review it later."
Victor nodded once, that half-smile never fading, and backed toward the door. "Of course. Enjoy the rest of your… meeting." He gave a little wave, eyes lingering on Lila one last second, then slipped out and closed the door quietly behind him.
The second the latch clicked, Lila let out a shaky breath and pressed both palms flat against the table. Damien spun toward her, hands reaching for her waist.
"Lila," he said, voice tight as he pulled her against him. "Tell me he didn't see anything. Tell me right now."
She slid her arms around his neck, fingers threading into his hair. "He saw enough," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. "But he acted like it was nothing. Like he just walked in on us chatting about spreadsheets. Damien, he smiled the whole time. That same half-smile he always has."
Damien's hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer until her body molded to his. "I hate that smile. I hate the way he looks at you. Like he's trying to figure out what you taste like." He kissed her hard, tongue sliding against hers, hands sliding down to grip her ass. "You're mine, Lila. Mine. Not his to flirt with. Not his to walk in on."
Lila moaned softly into his mouth, tugging at his tie. "Then remind me. Right here. Before we have to go back out there and pretend nothing happened."
He lifted her back onto the table in one smooth motion, skirt riding up again. "You want me to fuck you again? Right where he just stood?"
"Yes," she breathed, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. "I want my husband to take me so I forget that smile. So I only remember your hands. Your mouth. You."
Damien groaned, shoving his pants down just enough, and pushed into her with one deep thrust. "Like this?" he panted, hips snapping forward. "Like I own every inch of you and no one else gets to look?"
Lila's head fell back, nails scraping down his back through his shirt. "Yes Damien harder. Make me feel you for the rest of the day. Make me walk into every meeting knowing exactly who I belong to."
He gripped her thighs, pulling her to the very edge of the table, thrusting deep and fast. "You're mine," he growled between kisses. "My wife. My secret wife. Say it while I'm inside you."
"I'm yours," she gasped, legs tightening around him. "Your wife. Only yours. Even when Victor walks in with that smile. Even when he tries to flirt. I'm still yours, Damien Blackwood."
They moved together frantic and desperate, the table creaking under them, mouths crashing, hands everywhere until they both came hard, breathing each other's names.
Afterward Damien held her close, forehead pressed to hers, fingers stroking her hair back into place. "I don't want you alone with him anymore," he said, voice rough as he kissed her temple. "Not even for a second. Promise me, Lila. Promise you'll stay away from Victor."
Lila cupped his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. "I promise. I don't want him near me either. I only want you. My husband. The man who just fucked me on the boardroom table because he couldn't stand the thought of his brother looking at me."
Damien kissed her slow and deep, hands gentle now. "Good. Because I can't share you. Not even a smile. Not even a coffee."
They fixed their clothes together, stealing soft kisses between every button, every zipper, every smoothing of fabric.
The rest of the afternoon passed in stolen glances and quick touches when no one was looking. By the time the office emptied, Damien walked Lila to the private elevator, hand lingering on her lower back.
"Penthouse tonight," he murmured, kissing her once more before the doors closed. "I need you again. Slower this time. All night."
Lila smiled against his lips. "I'll be waiting. Naked. With that perfume you love."
She rode the elevator down, heart still racing from the boardroom, from his hands, from the way he had claimed her like no one else existed.
At the penthouse she kicked off her heels, poured a glass of wine, and waited for him on the couch, legs tucked under her.
When Damien finally walked in an hour later, tie already loosened, he didn't say a word. He just crossed the room, pulled her up into his arms, and kissed her like he'd been starving for her all day.
They made love on the couch, then again in the shower, then once more in bed slow and deep and whispering promises between every touch.
Later, when Damien had finally fallen asleep with his arm locked around her waist, Lila slipped quietly out of bed.
She padded into the living room, grabbed her bag from the chair, and pulled out her phone to set an alarm.
A thick white envelope sat on top of her bag.
She hadn't put it there.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up, tore it open, and pulled out a stack of printed pages.
They were screenshots. Old chat messages. From the anonymous dating app she and Damien had used years ago long before she was hired, long before anyone at the company knew her name.
Every private word they had ever typed to each other was there. Every late-night confession. Every dirty promise. Every time he had called her his future wife before they had even met in person.
Lila's fin
gers froze on the pages, the paper crinkling under her grip.