Serena Mclane's P. O. V My surroundings start to get more and more familiar as we near my father's—soon to be mine—building. I know time is running out and it's just a matter of moments before we descend upon my berating and scrutiny, done by my very own father of course. Turning to Damien, I see he's retreated back to his normal, cold steely self, "Damien." I murmur, almost whispering. Damien, though, hears me and turns his head to face my direction. He doesn't say anything but nonetheless, I find myself apologising. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I feel really bad," I assess his face to see if he's listening and am content to find that he indeed is, "I just become emotional for less of a better word. I don't know if you've noticed but I don't have the best of relationships with my father and I want to do whatever I can to improve them. And so when anyone even comes within an inch of the subject of my father and I, I guess I just snap. So I'm sorry." I say once again. Damien seems to take in my words and I can tell he wants to say something but the car comes to a halt. I want to kick myself mentally for not saying anything earlier on in the ride because I very badly wanted to know what he would say. That I'm a pathetic little girl who didn't deserve their own father's attention? Or that maybe I was never the problem and that my father actually is? Instead Damien's says a short, "Very well," and that's all. Damien opens the car door and steps out of the car. I quickly do the same as he rounds over to my side to open the door for me but I beat him to it. He surprisingly scowls at me and grabs my hand. I expect him to just let it go but never will Damien Stryker do something that is expected. He leans down to my side and I feel his lips press to the shell of my ear. "I will always open doors for you. Understand?" He asks as he wraps his arm around my waist, pushing me closer to him.I gasp and start to feel nervous at our very close proximity. "What if I don't?" I find myself answering back boldly. Why am I so stupid? Oh someone help. I can feel his lips move and curve into a smirk as he lightly breaths out, making shivers cascade down my back in blissful waves, "Then there will be punishments accordingly." He murmurs before letting his lips press to just under my ear before stepping away from me completely– leaving an adequate amount of space that is necessary between two individuals in public– only leaving his arm to be wrapped around my waist. I take in long drawn out breaths to stabilise my breathing. Holy hell. That was oddly... hot if I dare say. I stop myself from looking his way in fears of what I'll find. Glancing at the now closed door, a small part of me wants to open the door and sit back in the car to see what punishments will exactly entail for my misbehaviour. Only now do I realise that such an intimate occurrence has taken place in the parking lot of my father's building with Damien's driver seated in car. Luckily though no one seems to be out in the car par at this hour. Making our way to the entrance, my nerves start to spike up for an all new reason. I haven't seen my father's car parked in the lot but that still doesn't settle me. The last time I came here wasn't the best of times. I shudder just thinking about all the memories. Of course it involved embarrassing myself in front of my father's employees and coworkers which obviously resulted in him belittling and scolding me in front of everyone. Not the best of starts if you're supposed to be taking over the company one day. Nobody will respect me, I'll just be walked all over. Hopefully getting some tips, and picking on certain attitudes, from Damien, will help me overcome a few obstacles and objectives. Unsurprisingly it's like the same as in Damien's office; Everyone stares. It's like they've never seen an angel- like- being walking with a well, whatever species I classify into–type–being. "Serena, darling. So lovely to see you." Comes an overly fake voice that makes my already fake smile, become even more fake. It's all a lot of fake. "Chrissie." I say in a normal tone not bothering to convey the same, honey dripping sweet one, she is currently sporting. I swear it's as if Chrissies number one goal in life is to watch me fail. Unfortunately for me, all my embarrassing moments in the office are nearly always in her presence. I'd say she has been setting it up but quite honestly I've never been known for my grace nor my confidence but the lack of both together.... I nearly cringe as memories flash back to me. Definitely going to close that box up, might as well seal it up with a lock and throw both of the things into the ocean. Damien looks at me and I just shrug. There Chrissy comes in a swirl of salon like brown hair and sky blue eyes, with a heart shaped face, freckles adorning her high cheekbones. She is pretty short, shorter than me but her killer heels do make up for it. Dressed to perfection as always, with her designer turquoise blouse, crème skirt and handbag perched on her arm. "Honey. It's been so long," Chrissy says smiling and comes over to hug me, "Oh, put on a little weight there have we." She says as she pats my stomach. What the actual fuck? My anger blazes and I want to rip her hand from off her arm for touching me. I shock myself with my level of anger and violence. I'm definitely not feeling top notch right now.Especially since I've just used top notch in a sentence. However, I merely smile at her and shrug my shoulders. "Just all that stress eating." I say, fake laughing in the end as she erupts into peals of laughter. "You're a funny one," she says, catching her breath as she pats my cheek. Then Chrissie's gaze switches to a very quiet Damien. "And who is this handsome man?" She asks fake fanning herself. So help my God, if she even looks at him wrong I will smack her so– Damien interrupts my thoughts as he tightens his grip on me. "I'm Damien Stryker." He says putting his free hand out to shake which she does so very eagerly. Can she not see where his other arm is? "Yes, I've definitely heard of you." She murmurs. "Of course," he says back tersely, "I am Serena's fiancé after all." That immediately wipes the smile off her face as she glances back and forth. "Really?" She gasps, putting her hand to her chest, "I never heard." "Well you sure have now." I say, beaming. "We must get going. We are on a busy schedule." Damien answers, gently tugging me backwards. "Of course, I understand. Well, I'll be seeing you later." Chrissie smiles. I nod my head while Damien pulls me over to the elevators. "I don't like her." I ground out in annoyance as soon as we step into the closed and empty compartment. "I wonder why." My eyes snap over to him, narrowing at his expression before realizing he's being sarcastic. I let out a low groan as the elevator's doors open up, letting us onto the floor where the bosses office is, aka my father. Passing the front desk, I smile at the brunette Latina who grins pleasantly; Nicole. She's the only one I can actually stand in this place. We pass quick smiles, both of us two busy to stop and chat. Except she manages to pass a sly wink at me when she catches sight of Damien. I playfully roll my eyes at her but mask my face into one of indifference as Damien turns to look at me. "What are we doing here anyways?" I ask, whispering to him. "We're meeting up with someone." He says causally. "In my father's office?" Something doesn't seem quite right. "Is that a problem?" He asks tightening his hold. "Not at all. As long as it's not illegal." I say shrugging. "That's why I have you." He says now clearly smirking. What is going on? I don't want to go to jail. None of us notice the light that is on in my father's office chambers as we're too much in a rush. Damien goes to the door and I expect him to ask me for the keys but he turns the door handle and to my surprise it swings open. The man gently shoves me in and closes the door behind us. "What's going on?" I mumble, barely adjusting to all the bright lights. "Well look who it is. Damien Stryker." Comes a heavy baritone voice, "And who is this lovely lady?" I whirl around to see blonde hair and light sky blue eyes. A tall man sits in the main office chair, his form nearly taking all of it up. He has a slight roundish cheekbones but a strong jawline with slight stubble on it. I can see the mischievous glint in his eyes from here. "Be serious." Damien growls out. The man lets out a low giggle. My eyes widen in surprise as he speaks up once more his voice dropping from that heavy baritone voice to a slightly higher pitched one. "You're no fun Damien." He says with a roll of his eyes before standing up and walking over to me. "I'm Greg, it's nice to meet you sweet cheeks."