Serena Mclane's P. O. V "Are you sure you're alright?" I pursue after him. Entering into his office, I scan my surroundings and am impressed with what I see. The walls consist of dark wood panels with bookshelves stacked neatly in corners. The floors are a slightly lighter colour than the walls but are not too light. A big mahogany desk is placed in the middle—facing towards the door— with black leather seats which are placed in front of it. It seems odd having such dark colour schemes but the huge floor to ceiling window contradicts the colours as it lets in streams of sunlight, lighting the room up adequately without any need for artificial lighting. My gaze directs back to him as he mutters a low curt 'fine.' Only now do I take note of the presence of another man. The very same one who we just met in the elevator. He's adorable in a way. Adorkable, if I dare say. "I haven't introduced myself," I say as I place my hand out for him to shake, throwing Damien a pointed look while I do so, "I'm Serena Mclane." I say smiling. The guy who doesn't appear to be much older than me, smiles and shakes my hand. "I'm Max, it's nice to meet you." "I need the other files I told you about." Damien says loudly as he leans across his desk, rifling through papers. "Yes sir." Max immediately gets into action, passing me a smile he fixes his square black glasses, and then rushes down the hall once more. I'm sure, working for a man like Damien Stryker will make anyone rush around as if the hounds of hell are chasing after them. And how lucky I am that I'll be having the pleasure of working with him. "So what should I do?" I ask, wanting to help. Damien seems to be busy walking up to one of the panels— not covered by a bookshelf– and then pressing a certain place. I curiously look around his shoulder only to see a section of the panel slide back and instead reveal a black box. A safe. Damien puts his hand on a small screen as it scans his hand and then makes a weird robotic noise, he punches in a passcode, the door to the safe swinging open. I'm surprised Damien has let me see he has a safe in his office but I mean after all the time we are going to spend together, I'll be bound to know a few things here and there. Damien reaches in and takes out a small black box. Turning towards me, I find myself practically shoved in his chest, way too close, and so I quickly take a –comfortable enough–step backwards. "We are supposed to be engaged and that entails a number of things. First off, you need a ring." Damien simply says while opening the lid of the small black velvet box. My eyes widen and mouth drops open as I glance from him to the box repeatedly. It is expected of me to wear a ring but it still takes me be surprise. "It's a family heirloom." He murmurs. Just then my ears perk up, not due to what he said, but the way he said it. Are my ears playing tricks on me or am I really just incredibly daft to not have noticed it before? But I swear, I heard a trace of an accent. My eyebrows furrow as I glance at him once again. It isn't strong but it is there, probably by the way he pronounced a certain word that it just jumps out at me. It definitely isn't strong, almost as if one goes to a country and spends quite a long time there that they pick up an accent but not enough time that it actually interlaces within their words. Why am I thinking so hard on this? Damien probably just went on vacation for a few months. However he doesn't seem to be the type to go on vacations and just relax. Damien's much too into his work and other activities to actually take a break. "It's beautiful. But I cant accept it of course." I find myself saying. The ring is absolutely beautiful. Now I know nothing about rings but I can tell that it's expensive, I mean it looks heavy. The light blue diamonds glint in the light as do the other stones,–that surround the main one– the band is either white gold or platinum, or silver. I really have no clue except that it's stunning. And also very attention seeking. "Why not?" Damien asks, he looks thoroughly confused. I bite my lip before answering; "It's too much. I can't accept the ring. I mean it's a family heirloom. You should give this to the girl you're actually going to ask to be getting engaged to, married to." I try to clarify, seeing his confusing increase. "But I am. To you." He tries to explain. I smile and shake my head, taking another step away. "That's not the point, people will be expecting you to wear this. You will be my fiancée so you have to. This-," Damien pauses, testing the words in his mouth, unsure whether to say them or not, "This will keep you protected." Now it's my turn to be confused as I look at him bewildered. "Protect me, from what?" "Important people don't become important without making a few enemies," he says curtly, "This ring will protect you when I am not there to do so. So you have to wear this understand? At all times." He says, more serious then he usually is, if that's possible. And as if to make sure I'll oblige; Damien gently grabs my hand, holding it firmly in his, and all the while making eye contact with me, he slips the ring on my finger. My throat goes dry and my face flushes at the intimacy of the gesture. Well what would have been an intimate gesture had this not been due to a business agreement. Am I even making sense with such a befogged mind? We both stay silent, and finally he lets my hand go. My eyes don't leave his back as he now talks to a flustered looking Max. Glancing down at the ring that is now mine, I can't help but to move my hand around. It is indeed heavy as I had expected. The door shutting closed, signalling that Max has left, snaps me out of my dazed mind. "Back to where we were." Damien speaks up as he walks towards his desk, leaning against it. "We will have to act more than as if we're strangers." He says perplexed, wondering as if how on earth to do that. I smile and walk over to his desk, passing him I sit down on his desk chair. That earns me an unamused look but he doesn't say anything. To my delight, it's one of those swivel ones and so that makes me spin in it a few times. Damien's unamused expression furthering. "We should get to know each other." I say, stopping my childish yet fun act. "Get to know each other?" Damien asks looking weary and hesitant almost as if it's some new foreign thing. "Yes, certain things one ought to know about their significant other." I pause, trying to think of how to begin, "Well I'm twenty two, my favourite colour is royal blue, my favorite animals are bears and my middle name is Vivian." I finish, throwing the last point that just popped into my head, in there. Damien just nods his head but doesn't say anything, making me roll my eyes. "It's your turn." I mutter. Damien looks me dead in the eyes as he speaks. "I'm twenty six years of age, no favourite colour, no favourite animal and no middle name." He finishes. I'm sure that my once excited face, now drops into disappointment. I was actually excited to learn more about Damien and this dark façade he always seems to have around him, like a dark thundering cloud. All I learned from him is that he's four years older than me. "Oh, but there must be something." I say, still not giving up. Damien looks at me intently before sighing. "I guess I like the colour black." He says. My answering smile is immediate as I beam at him. "That's a start." I say getting up. "So since you're so willing to share," another unamused look at my sarcasm, but nonetheless, I continue "What else?" Damien glances at me, tilting his head. It almost looks as if he's scanning me from head to toe. And just barely, if possible, you can see just a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Damien bypasses me and goes over to the office chair at his desk. "Now," he murmurs as he motions for me to sit across from him which I do. I lean forward in my seat, waiting for him to continue. What he says next leaves me speechless and slightly overwhelmed. "We have to get familiar with one another's touch."