Chapter 10 A Game Of Control

(Ivy’s POV) The next morning, I woke up to an eerie silence. I stretched, my body still heavy from the tension of the previous night. Damien had taken me to his world—his domain—and though I had handled myself well, I knew it had only been a test. A preview of what lay ahead. And now, I was waiting for the next move. Breakfast With the Devil I dressed quickly, pulling on a fitted black dress before making my way downstairs. The dining room was mostly empty, except for Damien sitting at the head of the table, sipping his coffee like he had all the time in the world. His gaze flicked up as I entered. "Good morning, Little Lamb." I rolled my eyes, sliding into the seat across from him. "Don’t you ever get tired of calling me that?" His smirk deepened. "Not yet." I reached for the coffee, taking a slow sip before eyeing him warily. "So, what’s on today’s agenda? More tests? More… games?" He leaned back in his chair, amusement flickering in his eyes. "It’s not a game, Ivy." I arched a brow. "Then what is it?" "A lesson." I sighed. "Of course it is." Elias entered, setting a plate of breakfast in front of me. I picked at the food, still wary of what Damien had planned. "You’re coming with me again today," he said casually. I frowned. "Where?" He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he set down his cup, resting his elbows on the table as he studied me. "To a place where you’ll start to understand what it means to be mine." A shiver ran down my spine at the possessiveness in his tone. But I wouldn’t let him see that. Instead, I matched his gaze. "I’m not yours, Damien." His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "We’ll see." An hour later, I was once again seated beside him in the car. We drove through the city, the atmosphere inside the vehicle thick with unspoken words. I had no idea where he was taking me, but I refused to ask. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my curiosity. The car finally stopped in front of a tall, glass building—sleek, modern, and intimidating. I glanced at him. "What is this place?" His smirk returned. "A business meeting." I frowned but said nothing as he stepped out of the car, offering me his hand. I ignored it, slipping out on my own. Damien chuckled under his breath, leading me inside. The lobby was grand, filled with men in suits and women in expensive dresses. Their gazes shifted toward us the moment we walked in. Or rather, the moment Damien walked in. They knew who he was. And they knew what he was capable of. A man approached, his expression tense as he shook Damien’s hand. "Mr. Blackwood," he greeted stiffly. "I wasn’t expecting you today." Damien smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I like surprises." His gaze flickered toward me, and I straightened my shoulders, meeting his eyes without hesitation. "And who is this?" the man asked, glancing between us. Before I could respond, Damien placed a hand on my waist, his fingers resting lightly against the fabric of my dress. "Ivy," he said smoothly. "She’s with me." Something about the way he said it sent a wave of heat through my body. The man nodded slowly. "Well, it’s… a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ivy." I forced a polite smile. "Likewise." Damien guided me toward a private conference room, his hand never leaving my waist. As soon as the door closed behind us, I stepped away, shooting him a glare. "What the hell was that?" His expression remained unreadable. "That was me showing you how power works, Ivy." I folded my arms. "By parading me around like some possession?" He took a step closer, his voice dangerously soft. "By showing them that you matter to me." My breath hitched. For a moment, we just stood there, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, before I could process it, he turned away, taking a seat at the head of the conference table. "Sit," he ordered. I hesitated. Then, with a resigned sigh, I lowered myself into the seat beside him. The meeting was unlike anything I had expected. Damien didn’t just command the room—he owned it. Every word he spoke was calculated, every movement deliberate. And the men sitting across from him? They were terrified. It was fascinating. And unsettling. I watched as Damien negotiated a deal, his voice smooth and confident. The other men nodded, sweating under his gaze. It was then that I realized something. Damien didn’t just play the game. He was the game. And I was caught in it. A Dangerous Proposition The meeting ended, and we left the building, stepping back into the waiting car. Silence stretched between us as the city blurred past the windows. Then, Damien spoke. "Did you learn anything today?" I glanced at him. "I learned that people fear you." He smirked. "And?" I hesitated. "And that you like it." He didn’t deny it. Instead, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You should get used to it," he murmured . "Because whether you like it or not, Ivy, you’re a part of this world now." I swallowed hard. Because deep down, I knew he was right. And that terrified me.