chapter 5 Caught in the Act

Damian Westwood had been in plenty of tight situations before.

But standing in Victoria Sterling’s private office, caught red-handed with incriminating documents behind his back? This was new.

He smiled, the picture of casual confidence. “Victoria, you wound me. Can’t a man take a wrong turn at a party without being accused of espionage?”

Victoria’s expression didn’t waver. “You don’t do ‘wrong turns,’ Westwood.” She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. “So why don’t you hand over whatever you just stole and we can pretend this never happened?”

Damian leaned against the desk, as if he belonged there. “I’d love to, really. But see, I’m not actually in the habit of handing over evidence of corporate sabotage.”

Victoria tilted her head. “Bold accusation.”

“Bold truth,” he corrected. He could feel the edge of the folder pressing into his palm, the proof he and Elena needed to expose her. The problem? Victoria wasn’t an idiot. And she wasn’t alone.

Outside, he could hear the subtle shift of security moving through the halls.

Victoria Sterling was ruthless. If she suspected him of snooping, she wouldn’t hesitate to make this very difficult.

Damian exhaled. Time to improvise.

---

The Escape Plan

Downstairs, Elena was running out of patience.

She’d kept Victoria occupied for as long as she could, smiling through gritted teeth as she listened to the woman drone on about her latest legal victories. But the moment Victoria excused herself, a bad feeling settled in her gut.

Damian had been gone too long.

She slipped away from the main event, moving quickly through the crowd. If he’d gotten himself into trouble—

Her phone vibrated. A single message from an unknown number.

Back exit. Now.

Her heart jumped. Damian.

Without hesitation, she turned, making her way toward the service corridors.

---

A Desperate Exit

Damian had never been a fan of running. It lacked the finesse of talking his way out of trouble. But when a security guard twice his size had started toward him, he’d made an exception.

Now, he was sprinting through the back hallways of the venue, gripping the folder tightly as alarms buzzed in the distance.

He turned a corner and nearly collided with Elena.

Her eyes widened. “What the hell did you do?”

“No time,” he panted, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward. “We need to leave. Now.”

Footsteps echoed behind them.

“Westwood, what did you do?”

“Would you believe me if I said I made a new friend?”

“Not even a little.”

They pushed through the emergency exit, spilling into the cold night air. Damian pulled off his jacket, tossing it aside as they ran toward the parking lot.

Elena shot him a look. “Seriously? You’re worried about fashion right now?”

“There were cameras in that hallway,” he muttered, tossing his tie next. “And I’d rather not have a perfect description of what I was wearing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable.”

Headlights flashed as a sleek black car pulled up.

Elena barely had time to process it before Damian was yanking open the door and pushing her inside.

She barely managed to catch her breath before the car sped off.

---

A Heated Exchange

Damian grinned as he settled into the seat beside her. “Well. That was fun.”

Elena smacked his arm. “Are you insane?!”

He winced. “Ow.”

“You broke into her office, didn’t you?”

“I borrowed some information.”

“Oh my God, I hate you.”

Damian smirked. “You keep saying that, Sinclair. And yet, here we are.”

She groaned, running a hand through her hair. “We weren’t supposed to tip her off this early.”

“We didn’t have a choice. You said we needed evidence, and now we have it.” He held up the folder, his smirk widening. “Proof that Victoria Sterling is behind the smear campaign.”

Elena hesitated. They actually had it?

She snatched the folder, flipping it open. Her eyes scanned the documents—bank transfers, emails between Victoria and a private investigator, even legal memos detailing how she planned to discredit their firms.

Her breath caught.

This was real.

This was enough to take her down.

But instead of relief, a different feeling settled in her chest.

“This was reckless,” she muttered.

Damian studied her. “It worked.”

“That’s not the point.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice lower. “Then what is the point, Sinclair?”

She swallowed. She didn’t know.

All she knew was that something about tonight—about working with him, about the way they were sitting too close in the dim car—felt dangerous in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

And she hated that she didn’t entirely mind.

---

The Fallout

By the time they reached her apartment, Elena had managed to shove all distracting thoughts aside.

They had what they needed. Now, they just had to figure out what to do with it.

Damian followed her inside, loosening the top buttons of his dress shirt. “So. What’s the plan?”

Elena placed the folder on the table, taking a steady breath. “We go public. Take this to the press before Victoria can spin the narrative.”

Damian hummed. “Tempting. But if we move too fast, she’ll claim it’s fake.”

Elena frowned. “Then what do you suggest?”

He smirked. “We let her sweat.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“We use this,” he said, tapping the folder. “Let her think we might go public. Make her panic. People like Victoria? They slip up when they’re desperate.”

Elena hesitated.

It was risky. But then again—so was everything about working with Damian.

She exhaled. “Fine. We do this your way. But if this backfires?”

He grinned. “Then you get to say ‘I told you so.’”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he murmured, stepping just a fraction closer, “you still agreed to work with me.”

Elena’s pulse jumped.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then she turned away, grabbing the folder. “Get out of my apartment, Westwood.”

Damian chuckled as he strolled toward the door. “Sweet dreams, Sinclair.”

She slammed the door behind him.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if her frustration was entirely about him—or about the way he was getting under her skin.