Chapter 1
The first time Isabelle saw Damon Sterling again, she was holding a cup of coffee she could barely afford.
It was the kind of detail she knew she would remember later.
Not his office.
Not the city spread beneath the forty-second-floor windows.
Not the fact that the man sitting behind the enormous black desk owned enough companies to buy the building twice over.
She would remember the coffee.
Because her hand shook so badly that a little of it spilled over the rim.
And Damon noticed.
His eyes dropped to the dark stain spreading across her thumb.
Then lifted to her face.
He said nothing.
Neither did she.
For several seconds, they simply stared at each other.
Twenty years disappeared.
She was six again.
He was twelve.
And she was standing in the hallway of his family’s house with a yellow ribbon in her hair, clutching a doll against her chest while Damon stared down at her with the same impossible, cutting eyes.
Why are you still here?
My mother is working.
Then go find her.
I wanted to show you my doll.
I don’t care.
She had cried that day.
She had cried often because of him.
She had never understood what she’d done to make him hate her so much.
Now he was thirty-two, and apparently he had forgotten her.
That should have been a relief.
Instead, something inside her quietly broke.
“Ms. Bennett?”
His voice pulled her back.
Isabelle blinked.
The man in front of her was no longer the boy from her memories.
He was Damon Sterling.
CEO.
Billionaire.
The man whose name appeared in financial newspapers beside words like acquisition, expansion, empire.
And, apparently, her future employer.
If she was lucky.
“Yes.”
She realized she was still standing.
Damon gestured toward the chair.
“Sit.”
No hello.
No smile.
No flicker of recognition.
Nothing.
She sat.
Her coffee remained untouched on the edge of the desk.
Damon opened her résumé.
Isabelle watched his face.
She shouldn’t have.
But she couldn’t help herself.
There was nothing there.
Not even curiosity.
Maybe he really didn’t remember.
Maybe she had been nothing to him.
The realization embarrassed her more than it should have.
She had spent the entire morning worrying about seeing him again.
He hadn’t spent a second worrying about seeing her.
Of course he hadn’t.
She was Maria Bennett’s daughter.
The nanny’s daughter.
A childhood nuisance who had followed him around because she had thought the most fascinating boy in the world might eventually decide to be her friend.
She almost smiled at the memory.
Almost.
“Marketing.”
Damon’s voice was flat.
“Yes.”
“Why Sterling?”
Because you pay well.
Because my brother needs tuition.
Because my mother is dead and there is no one left to catch us if I fall.
Instead she said, “It’s one of the strongest companies in the industry.”
His eyes lifted.
“That’s the answer you give every company.”
She swallowed.
“I thought you wanted a professional answer.”
“I want an honest one.”
Something about him made honesty feel dangerous.
“I need the job.”
His gaze stayed on her.
“For money.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
She frowned.
“What?”
“How much money do you need?”
Heat crept into her cheeks.
“That’s personal.”
“So is telling me you need the job.”
Isabelle straightened.
“My brother is starting university.”
Damon said nothing.
“My mother died two years ago. I’m responsible for him.”
The words came out more quietly than she’d intended.
She hated talking about her mother.
Especially here.
Especially with him.
Damon’s fingers stopped on the page.
For the first time, something shifted in his expression.
“Maria is dead?”
Isabelle looked at him.
“You really don’t remember me.”
He went completely still.
She hadn’t meant to say it.
The silence afterward was awful.
Damon slowly placed her résumé on the desk.
“I remember you.”
Her heart stumbled.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She searched his face.
There was no warmth in it.
No nostalgia.
If anything, his expression had become harder.
“Then why did you look at me like you didn’t know who I was?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Neither was I.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
For one strange second, something almost like amusement touched his eyes.
It disappeared immediately.
He leaned back.
“You’ve changed.”
Isabelle gave a small, nervous laugh.
“It’s been twenty years.”
“I know exactly how long it’s been.”
The answer came too quickly.
Her smile vanished.
Damon looked away.
Isabelle felt suddenly cold.
Why would he know that?
Before she could ask, he picked up her résumé again.
“Your experience is limited.”
“I know.”
“You’ve never worked in an organization this size.”
“I can learn.”
“I don’t have time to train people who need their hands held.”
“I don’t need my hand held.”
His eyes came back to hers.
“Good.”
There was something about the way he said it.
Almost a challenge.
Isabelle lifted her chin.
“Then perhaps you should interview me instead of intimidating me.”
Silence.
She immediately regretted it.
Damon stared at her.
And then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
It wasn’t a warm smile.
It wasn’t kind.
It was something slower.
Sharper.
The first real expression she’d seen on his face.
It made her stomach tighten.
“You’re not the little girl I remember.”
She couldn’t breathe for a second.
“Apparently not.”
His smile disappeared.
“No.”
He looked at her for another long moment.
Then he closed the file.
“You start Monday.”
Isabelle stared.
“You’re hiring me?”
“I am.”
She couldn’t help the relief that crossed her face.
“Thank you.”
Damon stood.
The interview was clearly over.
She gathered her handbag and rose.
As she reached the door, his voice stopped her.
“Isabelle.”
She turned.
Damon was standing behind his desk, one hand resting against the polished wood.
His expression had gone cold again.
“There’s something you should understand before you start working here.”
She waited.
“I don’t mix my personal life with my business.”
She nodded.
“Neither do I.”
“Good.”
His eyes held hers.
“Because whatever happened between our families when we were children is irrelevant now.”
Something inside her tightened.
“I agree.”
She opened the door.
Damon’s gaze dropped briefly to the yellow coffee stain on her thumb.
Then back to her face "See you Monday, Isabelle.”
She walked out.
The elevator doors closed.
Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath.
Inside the office, Damon remained by the desk.
His face was expressionless.
But his hand had tightened around the edge of the wood.
He had spent twenty years convincing himself that the past was dead.
Then Isabelle Bennett had walked through his door.
And every memory he’d buried came back with her.
Including the one he had never allowed himself to remember for too long _the reason he’d spent his childhood making her hate him.
And the reason having her back in his company was the worst possible thing that could have happened to him.
