Chapter 8 FORCED PROXIMITY.

Chapter 8 FORCED PROXIMITY.
Isabel’s POV.

Mr. Sterling had called a meeting before lunch.

The word “mandatory" was what James, the butler had said which meant it wasn’t optional, and it wasn’t good.

Adrian stood beside me, adjusting his cufflinks. Damien was already there, leaning against the table, arms folded, unreadable as ever.

Mr. Sterling walked in last. 

“Sit,” he said. No one disobeyed even as I was expecting Damien to.

He placed a thin stack of papers in the center of the table, precisely aligned. “Competition for the Thorne contract is getting much. I can’t afford any slacking. We need accuracy, discretion, and to be fast with it.”

I straightened. 

He looked directly at me. “Which brings us to a new arrangement. Isabel, you’ll be working with Damien on the integration analysis for the acquisition. It’s too sensitive to delay any further.”

I froze. “Sir, I—”

He raised a hand. “You have my clearance, you’re family, and you’ve already proven you can handle confidential material. Damien will oversee your training on the company data and I would suggest you both work from home for now till after this.”

Training. A neat word for confinement.

Adrian brightened immediately. “That’s a great idea,” he said. “It’ll take some pressure off me and help Isabel understand the operations side.”

Mr. Sterling nodded, satisfied. “Yes. Damien, I expect progress reports every forty-eight hours. You’ll use the west-wing study for privacy. The fewer eyes on this, the better.”

The west-wing study. His study.

I forced a breath. “Understood.”

Damien’s tone was smooth. “Of course.”

Like he was looking forward to this.

He turned his head slightly, and his gaze found mine. 

Mr. Sterling continued outlining deadlines, unaware and uninterested in the undercurrent going through the room. He might as well have been assigning desk partners in a classroom, not locking two people with a viotile secret into daily isolation.

“Questions?” he asked finally.

Adrian laughed. “None from me. I think it’s perfect. Isabel’s quick to learn.”

“Then it’s settled,” his father said. “You’ll start tomorrow morning. 9am”

I nodded once, the movement stiff. “Yes, sir.”

The meeting ended. Papers was gathered, chairs scraping but I stayed seated a beat longer. My pulse was erratic.

When I finally stood, Damien was beside the door. He opened it for me like a gentleman, though we both knew the word didn’t fit. His voice was quiet as I passed.

“See you at 9, Isabel.”

I didn’t look at him. “Don’t be late,” I said, because defiance was the only armor I had left.

Adrian was exhilarated.

He talked the entire walk back to our room, gesturing, full of brotherly optimism.

“This is good for everyone,” he said. “Father trusts you. Damien respects you. That’s huge.”

“Right,” I said.

“You’ll learn how the family business actually runs. No more standing on the sidelines.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

He missed the edge in my tone.

“And it’ll force Damien to play nice. Father’s made it official, he can’t pull his usual disappearing act.”

I smiled weakly. “You think that’ll stop him?”

Adrian shrugged. “He listens to Father when it matters. And honestly, I think he likes you.”

My heart dropped so fast I trip. “Likes me?”

“As a colleague,” he said quickly. “You’re smart, he knows that. This partnership could change how he treats the rest of us. So, be patient with him, okay?”

I bit the inside of my cheek until it hurt. “I’ll try.”

He grinned, completely unaware that his optimism was breaking me. “That’s my wife.”

After lunch, I hid in the library under the pretense of going through books.

What I was really doing was breathing.

The quiet was a relief—no Sterling voices, no directives, no trap disguised as opportunity. I stared at the books on the shelf until their titles blurred. 

This couldn’t work. Daily meetings, closed doors, forced proximity—it was designed to collapse me.

I couldn’t refuse. Refusal would invite questions. And Mr. Sterling’s questions would be the start of suspicion.

The logical part of my brain thought that I could handle it. Keep it professional, keep it brief But logic had a short half-life around Damien.

The clock ticked, marking every second I spent pretending to be calm.

I decided to leave after staying a while. Adrain was still in his father’s office when I walked past. Their voices blended into one continuous discussion about capital ratios.

I almost made it upstairs before Damien appeared in the hall, jacket slung over his shoulder, tie loosened. He looked perfectly at ease. I was not.

“Planning to avoid me until morning?” he asked.

“I was planning to avoid you for eternity if I could"

“That’s optimistic.”

“Some of us still try.”

He stopped a few feet away. “This isn’t optional, Isabel. You heard him.”

“Yes,” I said. “I did.”

“Then you know what’s coming.”

I met his eyes. “Work.”

Something flickered in his expression, something almost like amusement. “Among other things.”

I folded my arms. “If you think I still want you around me, you’re wrong.”

“Good,” he said lightly. “Want isn’t a good way to start our work relationship.”

He moved past me, brushing close enough that I felt it.

When he was gone, I exhaled shakily and gripped the banister until my fingers hurt.

Adrian had planned a movie night for both of us. So I went back down into the sitting room.

I sat beside him as he kept on talking. Adrian was practically glowing with happiness.

“Tomorrow’s the big day,” he said cheerfully. “You and Damien, the dream team.”

“Something like that.”

He poured me wine, oblivious to how much I needed it. “He said he has already outlined a training schedule.”

“He did?” My voice came out breathless.

“Yeah. Hour-long sessions every morning. Review meetings twice a week. He’s taking this seriously, wifey.”

I nodded slowly. “Of course he is.”

Adrian leaned back, satisfied. “Finally, some family cooperation.”

If cooperation meant me and Damien being in the same space all day, then yes, everything was perfectly…aligned.

When the movie ended, Adrian left to finish a report for his father and I retreated upstairs, determined to be alone.

In the privacy of our room, I sat at the vanity, staring at tomorrow’s schedule on my tablet. 9 o’clock, west-wing study. One simple line that already felt like a sentence.

I considered excuses—illness, migraine, divine intervention but none of them would survive Mr. Sterling’s scrutiny. I was trapped by logic and duty. 

And by the unshakable awareness that Damien knew exactly how trapped I was.

At eight fifty-five the next morning, I stood in the west-wing corridor, folder clutched so tightly my knuckles ached. The heavy door at the end was closed. 

My steps echoed too loudly on the floor. I paused halfway down the hall, working on my breathing like that would help. It didn’t.

Behind the door, I could hear faint movement—the sound of papers, maybe the click of a pen. Ordinary noises, somehow ominous.

I didn’t want him. That’s what I kept telling myself. I was just afraid of what proximity did to my resolve.

I reached the door and stopped. Raised my hand and hesitated.

Inside, his voice called out, “Come in.”

My pulse stuttered. For a moment I considered walking away. But Adrian’s faith, Mr. Sterling’s authority, and my own survival pinned me in place.

I turned the handle.

The door opened easily, without a creak, as if the house itself was cooperating with him.

Damien was behind the desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Professional, composed, every inch the mentor he was pretending to be.

“Right on time,” he said.

I stepped inside. Unwilling to say anything.

He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit. We have a lot to cover.”

I sat, keeping my back straight, hands folded over the folder.

He began outlining data streams and confidentiality protocols, his tone distant. If anyone walked in, it would look exactly like a training session.

Only I knew better. Every word sounded like a test.

“Do you understand the parameters?” he asked finally.

“Yes,” I said.

He leaned back, studying me for a long moment, then nodded once. “Good. We’ll continue like this every morning.”

“Of course,” I said evenly. “Efficiency above all.”

He smiled faintly. “You’re learning.”

The clock on the wall ticked once. 

The session was officially starting. This proximity game, as well.