Selene had always believed she was immune to men like Damien Voss.
Too wealthy. Too confident. Too aware of his own effect on people.
But the first time she stood in his office, the air around her felt heavier. His gaze wasn't the kind that politely glanced over — it was the kind that pinned. Like hands closing around her without touching.
Even then, she had no idea that his voice alone could leave her knees soft, or that his fingers — resting casually against her arm — could set her entire body alight.
This wasn't a love story.
This was the story of being taken apart, layer by layer, until she couldn't tell where she ended and where Damien began.
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