Chapter 7
Two weeks into her position at Kane Industries, Victoria Cross had become the talk of the executive floor. Her ruthless efficiency in restructuring proposals and keen insight into market trends had caught everyone’s attention – especially Damian Blackwood’s.
The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kane Industries’ executive floor, casting long shadows across the polished marble as Victoria Cross made her way to the main conference room. Two weeks into her position, she’d already become the subject of intense speculation among the corporate elite. Her ruthless efficiency in restructuring proposals and uncanny insight into market trends had caught everyone’s attention – especially Damian Blackwood’s.
She paused briefly in the ladies’ room, checking her appearance one final time before the crucial board meeting. The designer charcoal suit skimmed perfectly over her curves, hiding her small baby bump while emphasizing her figure in a way that remained professional but commanded attention. Her dark hair fell in controlled waves, framing her altered features in a way that spoke of old money and calculated grace. The woman in the mirror looked dangerous, refined, and utterly in control.
“You’ve got surveillance on your six,” Elena’s voice came through her disguised earpiece. “Two of them today. Selena’s getting nervous.”
Victoria allowed herself a small smile as she reapplied her lipstick – a shade darker than Tori Kane would have worn. Let them watch. Every move she made was carefully choreographed, each gesture designed to build the persona of Victoria Cross while hiding Tori Kane beneath.
The conference room was already filling with board members when she arrived. She felt Damian’s eyes on her the moment she entered, tracking her movement as she took her seat opposite him at the massive mahogany table. The fabric of her silk blouse whispered against her skin as she arranged her materials, aware of his gaze lingering on her hands, her throat, her lips.
“Shall we begin?” his voice carried that familiar note of authority that once made her weak in the knees. Now it just fueled her determination. “Ms. Cross, I believe you have some concerns about recent acquisitions?”
Victoria rose gracefully, moving to the presentation screen with measured confidence. “Concerns would be putting it mildly, Mr. Blackwood. The Lee Technology merger was fundamentally flawed from conception to execution.”
She felt the ripple of tension around the table. Lee Technology had been one of Kane Industries’ longest-standing partners – one of her grandmother’s most trusted allies. Its acquisition and planned dismantling was part of the systematic destruction of those old loyalties.
“That’s a bold statement,” Damian challenged, leaning forward slightly. His suit Johnet pulled across his shoulders in a way that reminded her viscerally of other times, other rooms, other tensions between them. “Care to elaborate?”
Victoria launched into her analysis, her voice cool and professional as she dismantled the previous team’s strategy point by point. “The valuation was inflated by at least thirty percent, integration costs were severely underestimated, and the projected synergies are, frankly, fantasies.”
She moved around the table as she spoke, pointing out key figures on her carefully prepared slides. Each movement was choreographed to draw attention, to command focus, to establish dominance in a room full of predators. When she passed behind Damian’s chair, she caught him inhaling deeply, almost imperceptibly – searching for something in her scent that nagged at his subconscious.
“What would you suggest instead?” he asked, turning to face her. The morning sun caught his profile, highlighting the sharp angles she had once traced with loving fingers. Now those same features seemed harder, more dangerous – or perhaps she was finally seeing the predator beneath the beauty.
Victoria let a slight smile play at her lips as she leaned against the conference table, close enough to him that the subtle scent of his cologne – the same one he’d worn the night he tried to kill her – wrapped around her like a memory. “Sell it. Break it into components and distribute them through subsidiary holdings. We’ll minimize losses and potentially turn a profit if we move quickly.” She paused deliberately. “Unless, of course, there were… other reasons for acquiring Lee Technology?”
The question hung in the air like smoke, heavy with implications. Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Victoria saw the micro-expression that told her she’d struck a nerve. He leaned forward, fingers steepled in that characteristic gesture she remembered so well from countless late-night strategy sessions in their home office.
“You have a suspicious mind, Ms. Cross,” he said, his voice dropping to that velvet-smooth tone that used to make her shiver. Still did, if she was honest – but now with a complex mixture of desire and hatred.
“I prefer to call it thorough,” she countered, turning to highlight another section of her presentation. As she reached up to point at the screen, she felt him move behind her, close enough that his heat seemed to brand her through her silk blouse. The baby fluttered in response to its father’s proximity, adding another layer of bitter irony to the moment.
“Your attention to detail is… impressive,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. His breath ghosted across her ear, sending unwanted electricity down her spine. “Perhaps we should discuss these concerns in private?”
The invitation carried layers of meaning that made her pulse quicken – partly from remembered desire, partly from the thrill of danger. She turned her head slightly, giving him a measured look over her shoulder that held just enough heat to be interesting, not enough to be inappropriate. “My schedule is quite full, Mr. Blackwood. Though I’m sure your fiancée would be happy to review the numbers with you.”
The reminder of Selena landed like a perfectly placed blade. She saw the brief tightening around his eyes before his professional mask slipped back into place. But something else flickered there too – a spark of heightened interest, as if her resistance only made her more intriguing.
Later that afternoon, Victoria was reviewing documents in her new office when she caught a reflection in her computer screen – a man trying to appear casual while studying her through the glass walls. This one was new, different from the tail she’d spotted yesterday.
“Third one this week,” Elena’s voice came through her earpiece. “Ex-military background on this one. Selena’s pulling out all the stops.”
Victoria continued working, giving no sign she’d noticed anything amiss. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she accessed encrypted messages through a specially designed program hidden in her workflow software. “Background check?”
“Running it now,” Elena replied. “But here’s something interesting – the payments are being routed through the same shell companies Damian used to funnel money during the initial takeover. Either Selena’s getting sloppy, or…”
“Or she wants us to know she’s looking,” Victoria finished silently, her lips barely moving. She pulled up another spreadsheet, using the movement to scan the office floor. Two more unfamiliar faces had appeared, their forced casualness screaming ‘surveillance’ to her trained eye.
The next morning brought another strategy session, this one focused on upcoming board nominations. Victoria found herself seated beside Damian at his insistence, their shoulders nearly touching as they reviewed candidate profiles. Each small movement sent awareness skating across her skin, a maddening reminder of their past intimacy.
“Alexandra Lee would be my choice for the finance committee seat,” she said, deliberately letting her fingers brush against his as she passed over the file. The tiny contact sent electricity through her veins, and she saw his sharp intake of breath. “Young, brilliant, and…” she paused meaningfully, “not easily intimidated.”
The choice was calculated to provoke – Alexandra Lee was the niece of Lee Technology’s founder, and her appointment would throw a wrench in their dismantling plans. Damian’s eyes met hers, dark with something that might have been appreciation or might have been suspicion.
“An interesting choice,” he mused, studying her face with an intensity that made her grateful for her perfect makeup. “You seem to have a knack for finding… unexpected connections.”
“I believe in understanding the full picture,” she replied smoothly, holding his gaze despite the way it made her heart race. “Every relationship, every transaction, every seemingly insignificant detail – they all tell a story if you know how to read them.”
The tension between them crackled like static electricity. Under the table, Victoria pressed a hand to her abdomen, feeling the flutter of movement that seemed to respond to Damian’s voice. The cruel irony of the situation – sitting here beside the man who had tried to kill them both, playing this deadly game of attraction and deception – threatened to overwhelm her.
Later that evening, working late as had become her habit, Victoria’s enhanced hearing device picked up voices from Selena’s office as she passed by. She paused, ostensibly reviewing something on her phone while eavesdropping on the conversation.
“I want everything,” Selena’s voice carried clearly, sharp with frustration. “School records, financial history, former employers – even her damn coffee preferences. Something about her isn’t right.”
A male voice responded – one of the PIs, Victoria assumed. “The background checks out clean so far. Harvard MBA, impressive track record-”
“I don’t care what the papers say!” Selena’s voice rose before dropping to a hiss. “Find out everything about her. The way she moves through the building like she knows it, the way she understands our operations so quickly… And Damian –” She broke off, and Victoria could hear the fear beneath the anger.
“Mr. Blackwood’s interest in her concerns you?” the PI probed carefully.
“The way he looks at her…” Selena’s voice turned bitter. “Just find what I need to get rid of her. Whatever it takes. I won’t let anyone threaten what we’ve built.”
Victoria smiled to herself as she walked away. Let Selena dig. Every record, every reference, every piece of Victoria Cross’s history had been carefully crafted to withstand scrutiny. And the more obsessed Selena became with investigating her, the less she’d notice other, more important moves being made.
The next day passed in a blur of meetings and strategic planning sessions. Victoria was reviewing acquisition proposals late into the evening when her tablet chimed with an alert – motion sensors she’d secretly installed had detected someone approaching her office.
Damian appeared in her doorway, his tie loosened and Johnet draped over one arm. The sight of him like this – slightly disheveled from a long day – brought back memories of countless evenings in his home office, bringing him coffee and stealing kisses between meetings. The remembered intimacy twisted in her gut like a knife.
“Burning the midnight oil, Ms. Cross?” His voice was deeper now, rougher with fatigue or something else.
“There’s never enough hours in the day,” she replied, carefully saving her work. “Was there something specific you needed?”
He stepped into her office, closing the door behind him with deliberate slowness. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the empty building. “Walk with me? I’d like to discuss your latest proposals somewhere more… private.”
Warning bells rang in Victoria’s mind, but she couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion. She gathered her things, hyper aware of his presence as they walked to the executive elevator. His cologne wrapped around her, bringing with it memories of passion and betrayal so intertwined she could no longer separate them.
The doors had barely closed when Damian moved, pressing the stop button and turning to face her in one fluid motion. Victoria found herself backed against the elevator wall, his arms caging her in. The position was intimately familiar – how many times had they stolen moments like this during late nights at the office? But now the intimacy carried deadly undertones.
“Who are you really, Ms. Cross?”
Her heart thundered in her chest, but her voice remained steady. “I don’t understand the question.”
His eyes burned into hers as he leaned closer, inhaling deeply. One hand came up to brush her hair back from her neck, and she fought the urge to flinch as his fingers skimmed where his hands had once squeezed the life from her. “You’re brilliant, beautiful, and dangerous – exactly the type of woman I usually appreciate. But there’s something else…” His voice dropped to a whisper as his nose skimmed along her jaw, sending unwanted shivers down her spine. “You smell exactly like my dead wife.”
