Chapter 32

Kayna’s POV

Morning light filtered through the blinds of my apartment, soft streaks of gold dancing across the walls. I sat at my small kitchen table with my laptop open, my notes scattered in careful order, coffee cooling beside me. Today mattered.

My first official solo meeting representing Damian Marshall’s empire—and not just with Cosmo, but with whoever else they might pull into the room. My stomach fluttered, not with fear, but with anticipation.

“Professional. Sharp. Breathe.” I muttered the words aloud like a mantra, smoothing my skirt as though that alone could settle the churn in my chest.

I thought about Damian as I slipped my blazer on. Yesterday, he’d looked like the weight of the world had pressed too heavily on his shoulders. And when I left the office, there was a part of me that wanted to stay behind, to ask if he was okay. I didn’t. Boundaries. But the image lingered in the back of my mind this morning as I finished my coffee and headed out the door.

The city was already alive by the time I stepped onto the street that morning, but my apartment felt still and heavy when I closed the door behind me. Sunlight streamed across the kitchen counter, casting long, golden beams over my notes. Every page was covered with underlines, various corrections, and quick scribbles that had filled my evenings since Damian first told me about this meeting.

I smoothed a hand over my blazer, as if I could smooth away the nervousness twisting inside me. I was prepared. I had gone over every figure, every forecast, every projection. But it wasn’t just numbers at stake today, it was Damian’s trust. And for reasons I couldn’t quite explain, that mattered more to me than anything.

The hum of Manhattan greeted me as I stepped out of the cab in front of Marshall & Co.’s glass tower. The building gleamed as I arrived, its sharp glass edges cutting into the pale morning sky. Inside, the lobby buzzed with the usual flurry of activity—phones ringing, heels clicking against polished floors, muffled conversations tucked into corners.

When I reached our floor, Ava was already at her desk. Her posture was perfect, her expression alert, though the stack of files next to her betrayed how early she must’ve arrived.

“Good morning, Kayna,” she said warmly, though her eyes had a sharper glint than usual. “Ready for today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I set my bag down, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Walk me through it again, just so I don’t miss anything.”

She slid a folder toward me, her nails tapping lightly against the cover. “Ms Charlotte Evans, Cosmo’s liaison officer. Brilliant woman. She’s polished, numbers-driven, very meticulous. They’ll be looking for a clear demonstration that we’ve got every detail aligned for LA. Keep things factual, direct, but approachable . She’ll want precision, not charm. Facts, figures, timelines. Don’t waffle.”

I nodded, soaking up every word.

Ava continued, lowering her voice just a touch. “Also…” She paused, flipping a folder open and sliding it toward me. “We’ve just been informed Brighton Holdings is sending a representative as well. Apparently, they’re angling for joint opportunities with Cosmo, so don’t be surprised if they press into the conversation.”

“Brighton Holdings?” I frowned. “I thought they were mainly now competing for Cosmo’s West Coast expansion.”

“They are. Which makes this interesting. Ethan Rhodes. He’s…” Her lips pursed. “Let’s just say he has a reputation. Charming, clever, a little too slick for his own good. He’ll test you if he can.”

“Test me how?” I asked, curious.

A small smirk played at Ava’s lips. “You’ll see. Just… don’t let him rattle you. And don’t let him think he has the upper hand.”

Her words settled over me like armor. Ava smirked faintly. “But you’ll be fine. Damian trusts you to handle it.”

My chest tightened at the mention of his name. I glanced toward his office as I tucked the file into my bag. The blinds were shut. Silent.

“Has he come in yet?” I asked casually.

“No. Not this morning. Not yet.” Ava’s reply was clipped, but her eyes flicked with a trace of concern.

I nodded, forcing my focus back onto the papers. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Or working from home. Damian Marshall wasn’t the type to miss something important. Still… something in me couldn’t shake the quiet worry.

Okay,” I said softly, straightening. “Then I’ll make sure this goes perfectly.”

…..

The conference room at Cosmo’s New York office gleamed with glass and chrome, a space designed to impress. Cosmo’s Manhattan office was the kind of space that exuded quiet authority. Clean lines, polished glass, subtle accents of wealth that weren’t there to be flashy but to remind you exactly where you stood.

I sat at the long table, notebook open, pen poised, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

Charlotte Evans entered first—immaculate in a navy suit, her stride brisk,her blonde hair swept into a chignon. “Miss Scott.” She shook my hand with a firm grip that exuded so much confidence. “We’re glad to have you representing Marshall & Co.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, though my tone remained steady. “Thank you for having me. I’ve looked forward to this.”

Then the door opened again.

A tall man in a charcoal suit strode in, sharp-eyed with the kind of confidence that belonged to someone who enjoyed stirring the pot. He flashed a grin as he took a seat across from me.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” he said smoothly. “Ethan Rhodes. Brighton Holdings.”

Of course.

Charlotte didn’t look thrilled, but she gestured for him to sit. “Let’s begin.”

The meeting began—charts displayed on screens, papers shuffled, numbers discussed. Charlotte fired her questions with surgical precision, and I answered each one carefully, leaning into the hours I had spent memorizing and refining Damian’s strategies.

Then Ethan leaned back, voice cutting through with casual charm. “I have to say, I didn’t expect this to be handled so… seamlessly. Miss Scott, isn’t it? You’re rather new to Marshall & Co., if I recall.”

It was a test. A subtle dismissal wrapped in a compliment.

I didn’t flinch. “Sometimes being new allows for a fresher perspective,” I replied smoothly. “Besides, I’ve studied Brighton’s approach too. Your numbers on media partnerships for the West Coast are padded by at least eight percent. An interesting gamble.”

Charlotte’s brows lifted. Ethan chuckled, clearly more amused than offended.

“Sharp,” he said, eyes glinting. “Damian always did know how to find talent.”

“It’s not about being sharp,” I countered, soft but deliberate. “It’s about being accurate. Cosmo deserves honesty, not gloss.”

Charlotte gave me a small, approving nod. Ethan smiled like I’d just passed some secret test, but his silence afterward told me enough.

Charlotte gave a small nod. “Agreed. Thank you, Miss Scott.”

The rest of the meeting stayed strictly professional, though every so often, I caught Ethan’s amused glances—like he’d found our verbal sparring more engaging than the actual projections.

When it finally wrapped, Charlotte thanked us both, promising to forward materials for the LA meeting.

As we filed out, Ethan slowed his pace beside me. “For the record,” he murmured, low enough that Charlotte couldn’t hear, “you’re good at this. Almost makes me wonder why Damian keeps you hidden in the background.”

I tilted my chin. “Maybe that’s where the real work gets done.”

He chuckled softly, eyes lingering before he walked away.

By the time I returned to the office, it was mid-afternoon. Ava was typing quickly when I approached.

“Meeting go well?” she asked.

“Yes.” I gave her a summary, then added, “Has Mr. Marshall come in yet?”

She shook her head. “No. Not today.”

Something in my chest tugged again. Damian had asked me personally to update him. So why wasn’t he here?

I pulled out my phone before I could talk myself out of it.

The line rang three times before a voice finally answered—rough, low, strained.

“Kayna.”

My chest squeezed. He didn’t sound like Damian. Not the composed, commanding man who always seemed a step ahead. He sounded… exhausted.

“Are you okay?” I asked gently.

A sharp exhale. “No. Head’s splitting. Feels like hell.”

I blinked, stunned. Damian Marshall admitting he wasn’t okay was almost unthinkable.

“Do you need anything? Medicine?”

A pause. His voice softened. “If you have time.”

“Of course I do. I’ll bring it over,” I said without hesitation.

“Penthouse,” he murmured. “I’ll text you the address.”

I stopped by his doctor’s office on the way, picking up the prescribed medication. By the time I reached his building—a towering glass structure overlooking the city—the sky was painted in dusky shades of lavender and steel.

The doorman, already expecting me, escorted me to the private elevator. My pulse quickened as the doors slid open to reveal Damian’s world.

And what a world it was.

Getting into the penthouse, the building was as intimidating as the man himself—sleek glass stretching into the night sky. The doorman greeted me politely, already expecting me, and I stepped into the private elevator with the small bag of medication clutched tightly in my hand.

The doors opened, and I froze.

The penthouse wasn’t just an apartment—it was an empire carved in glass and steel. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed Manhattan’s skyline like a living masterpiece. Every line of the furniture was deliberate, precise, expensive. And yet… it felt cold. Impersonal. Like a place to live, not a home.

Damian stood near the window, shirt untucked, collar loose. His usually flawless exterior was dulled, but even in exhaustion, he was magnetic.

“You came.” His voice was rough, hoarse.

“Of course I did.” I lifted the bag. “Doctor’s orders.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as I handed him the water and pills. His fingers brushed mine—warm, heavy—and for a moment, I felt the vulnerability beneath his facade.

We sat in silence for a beat before he spoke, words tumbling out quietly. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. The empire, the constant fight. My brother thinks I’m chasing a ghost. Maybe I am.”

The honesty pierced me. Damian never let cracks show. Not here. Not anywhere.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

His gaze flicked to mine, sharp and searching, but instead of answering, he shifted. “Tell me about the meeting.”

I walked him through every detail—Cosmo’s questions, Charlotte’s reactions, Ethan’s presence. He listened intently, nodding slowly. For the first time, I felt not like an assistant reporting back, but like a partner in his world.

“Thank you,” he said softly when I finished. “For handling today. For… this.”

Before I could respond, he straightened. “Let me get dinner. Anything you want.”

I protested weakly, but he cut me off with that stubborn look. We settled on Thai, and an hour later, cartons lined his pristine kitchen island.

We ate perched on high stools, laughing as he fumbled with chopsticks, conversation flowing easier than I’d ever imagined. For a moment, Damian wasn’t the ruthless CEO—he was just a man, tired and human.

When the meal ended, he glanced at me, hesitant. “You could stay. No expectations. Just…  if you wanted to stay.”

The offer lodged in my chest, tempting, dangerous. But I shook my head. “Thank you, but I should go.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, he called his driver and walked me to the door.

Then he pulled me into a hug.

It wasn’t rushed. His hand pressed steady against my back, mine curled into his shirt longer than I intended. The silence stretched, charged. When we finally pulled apart, his eyes held mine with something unspoken.

“Goodnight, Kayna.”

“Goodnight.”

I stepped into the waiting car, heart pounding, his warmth still clinging to me.

And for the first time, I wondered if I was already in too deep.