TAMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

I tossed my bag onto the couch and kicked off my heels, sighing with the relief that only comes from escaping a day of pretending to be calm, collected, and oh-so-professional. My sister, Hannah, was sprawled out on the other end of the couch, munching on a bag of chips like she hadn't a single worry in the world.

"Finally! You're home," Hannah said, grinning as she scooted over to make room. "Tell me everything. How did it go with the great Damien Steele? Did he scowl the whole time? Did he breathe fire? Oh! Did he dismiss you with a flick of his perfectly manicured hand?"

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. "Han, you have to stop watching those billionaire romance. Real life is not like that."

"But isn't it, though?" she teased, offering me the chips.

I took a handful, pausing for dramatic effect. "Okay, fine. You're not entirely wrong. He is as intimidating as everyone says. And yes, the man could probably kill with a single look if he wanted to."

Hannah gasped, clutching the bag of chips to her chest like it was her emotional support. "I knew it! Start from the beginning, though. I need all the juicy details. Don't leave anything out."

I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment as I recounted the day.

"Alright, so picture this: I walk into his office,no, his lair and it's all black leather, glass, and steel. Very minimalist. Very 'I have too much money to care about decorating.' The receptionist barely looked at me before telling me to wait. And when I finally got called in..."

I paused for effect, earning an impatient nudge from Hannah .

"...he didn't even look up. Just sat there, typing away on his laptop like I wasn't even worth a second glance."

"Ugh, the audacity," hannah groaned.

"Exactly! So there I am, standing like an idiot, waiting for him to acknowledge my existence. Finally, he closes the laptop, leans back in his chair, and gives me this look. You know the one like he's trying to figure out whether I'm useful or just a waste of his time."

Hannah's jaw dropped. "No way! What did you do? Did you glare back? Tell him off? Please tell me you told him off."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Are you kidding? The man oozes power. I just plastered on my best PR smile and introduced myself like a pro. 'Sophia Reeds, PR strategist. It's a pleasure to meet you.' You know, the usual spiel."

"And did he say, 'The pleasure's all mine, Ms. Reeds,' in a deep, brooding voice?"

I snorted. "Hardly. He just nodded and said, 'Let's cut to the chase.' No small talk, no pleasantries. He went straight into business mode."

Hannah sat up straighter, her eyes gleaming. "Okay, but what did he say? Is he hiring you? Is he secretly in love with you? Come on, spill!"

"Hey Han, you've got to stop with these fantasies," I said, though I couldn't hide the grin creeping onto my face. "He hired me, yes. He wants me to handle a major PR crisis. Apparently, some ex-employee is stirring up trouble, leaking things to the press. He's worried it'll damage his company's reputation."

"Wait, wait, wait. So you're going to be working directly with Damien Steele? Like, in his office? Around his dark and brooding presence all the time?"

I nodded, grabbing another handful of chips. "Looks like it. And let me tell you, the man is a walking enigma. One second, he's cold and calculating, and the next... there's this fire in his eyes. Like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders but refuses to let anyone see it."

Hannah sighed dreamily. "He sounds like the main character of a romance novel."

"Yeah, well, he's also the kind of man who would eat someone alive if they crossed him," I said, shivering a little at the memory of his intense gaze. "I'm not here to fall for his charms, Han. I'm here to do my job and get out unscathed."

"But what if you can tame him?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Not happening," I said firmly. "This is strictly professional. Besides, he's not exactly the type to let anyone get close. He's all walls and sharp edges. Honestly, I doubt he even knows how to have a normal conversation."

Hannah pouted, clearly disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm for her daydreams. "Fine, ruin my fun. But admit it there's something about him that intrigues you. Don't lie."

I hesitated, thinking back to the way his eyes had softened just for a split second when he mentioned his company. It was a fleeting moment, but it had been enough to catch me off guard.

"I... guess he's not completely heartless," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested, okay? This is just another client. A very wealthy, very intimidating client."

Hannah smirked, clearly unconvinced. "We'll see about that."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the bag of chips from her and settling in for a much-needed evening of sisterly banter.

But as Hannah rambled on about her day, I couldn't help but replay the meeting in my head. Something about Damien Steele didn't add up. He was too controlled, too precise. It was like he was hiding something beneath that perfectly polished exterior.

I shut the door to my room, flopped onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Damien Steele. Even the name sounded like a challenge, sharp, unyielding, impossible to crack. But as much as he annoyed me, I couldn't get him out of my head.

"Who does he think he is?" I muttered to myself, sitting up and grabbing my notebook from the bedside table.

I flipped it open to a fresh page and scrawled his name across the top: Damien Steele. Underneath, I wrote in big, bold letters: Mission: Tame the Untamable.

Okay, maybe Hannah was rubbing off on me with all her dramatic romance novel nonsense. But if there was one thing I knew about myself, it was that I hated losing. And if Damien Steele thought he could bulldoze over me with his frosty attitude and billionaire ego, he had another thing coming.

I tapped my pen against my chin, thinking back to our meeting. He was cold, yes, but not entirely emotionless. There had been flickers, quick, almost imperceptible moments when his guard slipped. Like when I shot back that snarky comment about his charm.

He had frozen for half a second, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smirk. It was barely noticeable, but I had caught it.

Step one: crack his armor.

I wrote it down and underlined it twice.

Step two: find the human beneath the ice.

Sure, he acted like a robot, but no one was really like that. There had to be something some weakness, some vulnerability he was hiding. I just had to figure out what it was.

Step three: tame the beast.

"Beast" might've been a bit dramatic, but hey, I was on a roll.

I leaned back against the headboard, staring at the list. Was I being ridiculous? Probably. But if I was going to spend the next few weeks working with Damien Steele, I needed some way to keep myself sane. And if turning him into a pet project was what it took, so be it.

I flipped to the next page and started jotting down notes.

Likes: Power, control, intimidating people. Probably has a secret soft spot for puppies or something ridiculous.

Dislikes: Small talk, being challenged, me (maybe?).

Weaknesses: TBD.

I stared at the page, chewing on the end of my pen. What else did I know about him? Not much, honestly. But that was part of the fun.

"Alright, Mr. Steele," I said aloud, smirking. "You want to play hardball? Game on."

The next morning, I woke up feeling uncharacteristically motivated. If I was going to pull this off, I needed to be at the top of my game. That meant coffee, confidence, and maybe a killer outfit to remind Damien Steele that he wasn't the only one with power in the room.

I grabbed my notebook and flipped through the pages as I sipped my coffee. It was still a work in progress, but I had a solid starting point.

"Crack the armor, find the human, tame the beast," I repeated to myself like a mantra.

It sounded ridiculous, even to me, but I couldn't deny that I was kind of excited. For all his flaws, Damien Steele was intriguing. And if nothing else, this would be one hell of a challenge.