Page 124 of Terms of Exposure
Jennifer straightened in her chair, squaring her shoulders like a general preparing for battle.
A soft knock.
"Come in," Jennifer called.
The door swung open.
Damien filled the doorway, coffee carrier balanced in one hand.
Suit immaculate. Posture flawless.
Every inch the billionaire CEO the world believed in.
But his face—the corner of Jennifer's lips twitched—the fear there clear.
"Ms. Capolli." He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."
Jennifer studied him with a long, unblinking stare.
"Sit down, Damien." She gestured to the empty chair beside me. "We have a lot to discuss."
He set the coffee carrier on the edge of Jennifer's desk, selecting a cup and sliding it toward her.
"Oat milk latte. Two pumps vanilla."
Jennifer's brow arched. "How did you—"
"Emma mentioned it once." He pulled a second cup free and handed it to me—chai, extra hot, the way I always ordered it—before taking the last one for himself. Black coffee. No frills.
He lowered into the chair.
The confident CEO. The boardroom shark.
Titles shedding—
one by one—
until only his name remained.
Damien.
His gaze fixed on Jennifer, as if she held his fate between her hands.
Jennifer let the silence lengthen—a tactic, clean and calculated, letting the other side unravel in the quiet.
Damien didn't move.
Didn't blink.
He simply waited.
He knew the game, wrote the rules, destroyed others with the same look.
Finally, the battle broke. Jennifer leaned forward.
"Let me be clear about something, Damien." Her voice was cool. Controlled. "I'm not here as your ally. I'm not here as a neutral party. I'm here as Emma's friend. The person who's watched her work herself to the bone for years building something she believed in." She paused, letting the words land. "And you put all of that at risk."
"I know."
