Chapter 8

Kayna’s POV

The call came just after seven.

I had barely even touched my now cold dinner I bought earlier on my way from work.

I had been sitting on my couch in my small apartment, still in work clothes, my hair pulled into a haphazard bun that was falling apart. I hadn’t even managed to reheat dinner when my phone buzzed against the coffee table.

It was Ava.

“Kayna?” she said, brisk as always. “I hope you’re settled in for a long night, because Damian wants you on the Cosmo project prep. He’s asked me to loop you in. You’ll need to have everything ready for a trip tomorrow morning. Los Angeles. Meeting at ten sharp.”

I blinked. “Tomorrow? As in—I’m going?”

“Yes.” Ava’s voice was clipped, but not unkind. “He wants you handling the schedule, presentation backup, notes, the full support package. You’ll ride with him on the jet. He said he’ll brief you in with more details in the morning.”

I sat there, stunned.

“Kayna? Did you hear me?”

“Yes. I—yes, I heard you. I’ll get it done.”

“Good girl. Send me what you finish tonight, and be at the office by seven a.m. tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

The line clicked off.

For a long moment, I just sat there, the silence in my tiny apartment pressing down like a weight. The Cosmo project. The Cosmo project. I had heard whispers about it ever since my first week. I knew it was huge, the kind of deal that could make or break reputations. And now Damian wanted me—the rookie assistant barely two weeks into the job—to work on it overnight and then fly across the country to be by his side in the morning?

I should have felt honored. Excited. Grateful for the chance.

Instead, my stomach knotted with a mixture of dread and pressure.

I opened my laptop on the kitchen counter, pulling up the files Ava had forwarded. The sheer number of documents alone made my eyes blur. PowerPoint decks, financial projections, legal summaries, research on Cosmo’s leadership team, it was all there in meticulous folders, each demanding hours of focus.

I rubbed my temples and whispered under my breath, “You can do this. You have to do this.”

But as the clock ticked later into the night, my motivation began to falter.

Around midnight, I slumped against the back of my chair and pressed my palms over my face. My eyes burned from staring at the screen, and my chest felt tight.

The exhaustion was one thing—but underneath it was the steady drumbeat of something heavier: What if I mess this up? What if I fail him? Why would he pick me of all people to go on this trip?

The memory of my mother’s voice from the night before drifted into my mind. Her soft laugh, her gentle insistence that I should visit my father.

“You’ve always been so stubborn, Kayna,” she’d said. “But you’ve also always been strong.”

Strong. I wasn’t sure I believed that anymore.

The tears slipped out before I could stop them.

I hated crying, but the pressure cracked something inside me. I thought of all the sacrifices my mother had made, raising me and my brother after Dad went to prison. I thought of the years she worked two jobs to keep food on the table. I thought of the birthday parties we never had, the shoes I wore until they had holes, the way she smiled anyway like it was all okay.

And I thought of Dad.

The man I hadn’t seen in years. The man my mother wanted me to visit.

“No,” I whispered into the stillness, shaking my head. “He doesn’t get to see me. Not after what he did.”

The sobs came harder then—not just for my father, but for the loneliness of that little girl I used to be. The girl who had always dreamed of making something of herself so her mother could finally rest.

That little girl was still inside me. And tonight, she was terrified that she wasn’t good enough for this world Damian Marshall lived in.

It was two in the morning before I finally forced myself to keep going. I wiped my face, squared my shoulders, and opened another spreadsheet. If Damian wanted me ready, then I would be ready.

By the time the first gray light of dawn filtered through the blinds, I had finished the prep materials and sent them to Ava. My eyes were raw, my head heavy, but I had done it. Somehow.

I collapsed onto my bed for a brief hour of rest before dragging myself up again. There was no time for weakness now.

The next morning, I packed a small suitcase—professional outfits, a notebook, chargers, and a few personal items. My reflection in the mirror was pale, but I brushed some life back into my face with makeup and tied my hair neatly.

“You can do this,” I told the mirror again. “One step at a time.”

I left my apartment with the suitcase in tow, my stomach fluttering nervously all the way to the office.

When I arrived at Marshall Dynamics , the air inside felt different—humming with urgency. Staff moved quickly, voices low but tense, as if everyone knew something big was at stake.

I rolled my suitcase past the lobby and up to the executive floor, my heart hammering.

And that’s when I saw her.

She was seated casually in Damian’s office chair, legs crossed, phone in hand like she owned the place. Her hair was perfectly styled in glossy waves, her tailored dress hugging her figure in a way that screamed old money and sharper claws.

The woman glanced up as I entered with my suitcase.

“Well, well,” she said with a slow smile. “You must be the new assistant.”

Her tone dripped with amusement, the kind that wasn’t meant to flatter.

“I’m Kayna,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“Of course you are,” she replied, tilting her head as though assessing a new toy. “He does have a type, doesn’t he?”

The words sent heat rushing to my cheeks, though I wasn’t even sure what she meant.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked, my voice tighter now.

She smirked. “I’m sure you can. But I think I’ll wait for Damian.”

As if on cue, the office door opened and Damian strode in, phone pressed to his ear. His eyes immediately flicked from me to her, and something unreadable crossed his face.

“Out,” he said to me sharply, motioning toward the door. “I need a moment with her.”

The dismissal cut sharper than I expected. I swallowed hard, nodding quickly as I backed out of the room, clutching the handle of my suitcase.

The door clicked shut behind me.

And I was left standing in the hallway, heart thundering, the woman’s smirk burned into my mind.

Who was she?

And why did it feel like she had just casually stepped into a space that most people didn’t have access to with Damian Marshall ?