TAMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

"Sophia, he's here!" Hannah's voice echoed through the small apartment. Her excitement was obvious, but I wasn't in the mood. I rolled my eyes and pulled my blazer tighter around me. Professionalism was my armor, and today, I'd need it.

"Thanks, Hannah," I muttered, grabbing my laptop and notepad. "Remember, don't eavesdrop."

Hannah grinned mischievously. "No promises."

Typical Hannah. She thought meeting Damien Steele, the billionaire tech genius and certified jerk, was some grand event. For me, it was just another job a nightmare of a job, but still. I'd been hired to clean up his public image, and judging by the tabloids, that was like trying to mop up the ocean.

I opened the door to the small conference room we'd rented for the meeting. Damien was already there, leaning against the table like he owned the place. Well, technically, he did, he had paid for the room. His tailored suit screamed "expensive," and his icy blue eyes scanned me like I was the next problem he needed to solve.

"Miss Reed," he said, his voice as cold as his stare. "You're late."

I checked my watch. "By two minutes. If that's a problem, feel free to reschedule."

His lips quirked up in what might've been a smile if he wasn't so… Damien. "Feisty. Let's get to it, then."

I set my laptop on the table and ignored the urge to snap back. Focus, Sophia. I'd dealt with egos before. He was just another client… albeit one with enough money to buy a small country.

"Mr. Steele," I began, "your reputation is, to put it mildly, in shambles. The tabloids are calling you a homewrecker, your investors are skittish, and the public thinks you're the villain of the week. If you want to fix this, we need to start now."

"I'm paying you to fix it," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me how."

I took a deep breath. This was going to be a long day.

"First," I said, "we need to humanize you. Right now, you're a caricature: the ruthless billionaire who destroys lives for fun. We'll arrange interviews, charity events, and some strategic social media posts to show the real Damien Steele… assuming there is one."

His gaze hardened. "Careful, Miss Reed. You're teetering on the edge of insubordination."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not your employee, Mr. Steele. I'm your consultant. And if you don't listen to me, this will fail. Your choice."

He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. What's next?"

"We address the scandal head-on," I said. "Denying it only makes you look guilty. We'll release a statement taking accountability for any misunderstandings and emphasize your commitment to integrity. Then, we focus on your upcoming projects to shift the narrative."

"And you think that will work?"

"It's a start," I said. "But it'll only work if you cooperate. No more secret meetings, no more cryptic statements. Transparency is key."

He smirked. "You're quite the taskmaster, Miss Reed."

I ignored the comment. "Do you have any questions?"

"Just one," he said. "Why are you doing this?"

The question caught me off guard. "Excuse me?"

"Why take this job?" he asked. "I'm sure you had other offers. Why choose me?"

For a moment, I considered telling him the truth: that my agency needed the money, that his scandal was a PR strategist's dream, that I wanted to prove I could handle someone like him. But instead, I said, "Because I like a challenge."

His smirk widened. "Fair enough."

The meeting ended shortly after, but the tension lingered. As I packed up my things, Damien watched me with an intensity that made my skin crawl—and not entirely in a bad way. I'd faced difficult clients before, but none like him. He was infuriating, arrogant, and… intriguing.

Hannah was waiting for me outside the room, practically bouncing with excitement. "So? What's he like?"

"Difficult," I said, brushing past her.

"That's it?" she asked, following me down the hall. "No juicy details?"

"He's a client, not a soap opera," I said. "And if you're done gossiping, I have work to do."

Hannah pouted but let it go. Back at the apartment, I threw myself into my work. Damien Steele was a puzzle, and I was determined to solve him. But as I sifted through the chaos of his life, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was stepping into something far more complicated than I had anticipated.

Later that night, as I stared at my laptop screen, a notification popped up. It was an email from Damien.

Subject:Follow-Up

Miss Reed,

I appreciate your bluntness today. It's refreshing. Let's see if your strategies are as effective as your words.

Damien Steele

I rolled my eyes. Even his emails were arrogant. But beneath the frustration, there was a spark of excitement. For better or worse, Damien Steele was a challenge I couldn't resist.

The next day, I arrived at the Steele Enterprises building, an architectural masterpiece that screamed wealth and power. The receptionist directed me to the top floor, and as I stepped into Damien's office, I was greeted by floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the city skyline. Damien stood with his back to me, staring out at the view.

"Punctual today, Miss Reed," he said without turning around.

"I aim to please," I replied, setting my bag down on the pristine glass table. "Shall we?"

He turned, his expression unreadable. "Before we start, I need to know something. Do you always play by the rules?"

The question threw me. "Depends on the rules. Why?"

"Because in my world, rules are meant to be broken. If you're going to survive this, you'll need to adapt."

I crossed my arms. "Is that a threat or advice?"

"Consider it a warning," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Now, let's get to work."

As the day went on, I realized Damien Steele was more than just a billionaire with a bad reputation. He was a man with layers, secrets, and a charm that was as infuriating as it was captivating. And whether I liked it or not, I was in way over my head.