TAMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Damien Steele's pov

I slammed the door to my penthouse harder than I should have, the echo bouncing off the sleek marble floors. It wasn't frustration,it was the day catching up with me. That sharp-tongued, arrogant Sophia Reeds had been playing on my mind more than I cared to admit.

She was... annoying. Arrogant, yes, but also incredibly clever. Too clever. Her comebacks had almost made me smirk, which wasn't something I did often. But no. I didn't have time to be impressed by a PR strategist who clearly thought the sun rose and set at her command.

I loosened my tie and made my way to the kitchen, where a bottle of whiskey sat waiting. As I poured a drink, the sound of heels clacking approached. I didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Eleanor Steele.

My stepmother. My shadow. My constant headache.

"Damien," she called, her voice as sweet as honey but just as sticky. She swept into the kitchen like she owned the place, her silk robe flowing around her like she was some kind of queen. "I heard the most interesting news today."

I didn't respond. I just took a slow sip of my drink, bracing myself for whatever was coming next.

"I hear the tabloids are having a field day with your little... escapade," she continued, leaning against the counter. Her smile was bright, but her eyes were sharp. "What are we calling it this time? A misunderstanding? An unfortunate incident?"

I set the glass down with a little more force than necessary. "It's handled, Eleanor."

Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow shot up. "Handled? Oh, do tell."

"I've hired a PR strategist," I said flatly, walking past her into the living room. "Sophia Reeds. She'll fix the mess."

Eleanor followed, her heels clicking on the floor. "Sophia Reeds," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue like she was tasting it. "And what makes her qualified to handle Steele Enterprises' reputation?"

"She's good at her job," I replied, slumping into the leather armchair. "And I don't have the patience to entertain your interrogation tonight."

"Hmm," she mused, sitting across from me like this was a tea party. "You're usually so careful about who you trust, Damien. It's not like you to bring in someone you barely know. Especially someone... beneath our class."

My jaw clenched. "Sophia Reeds isn't your concern."

Her laugh was soft but mocking. "Oh, darling, everything about you is my concern. You know that."

That's the thing about Eleanor,she doesn't say things outright. She plants little seeds of doubt, lets them grow in your mind until you can't think straight. I had seen her do it to my father, to the board, to anyone who got in her way.

But I wasn't like them.

"Well," she said, rising gracefully. "I'll leave you to it. But do keep me updated. I would hate for things to spiral out of control... again."

She didn't wait for a response, just glided out of the room with that smug air of victory she always carried.

Later That Night

I sat in my bedroom, staring out at the city lights. My mind kept drifting back to Sophia. Her confidence,no, her arrogance had taken me by surprise. Most people shrank under my gaze, but she had met it head-on, like she had nothing to lose.

She reminded me of someone I used to know. Someone I had been foolish enough to trust before Eleanor tore it all apart.

Eleanor.

I knew she wouldn't leave Sophia alone. Not when she saw her as a threat to her control. Eleanor didn't play fair, and Sophia had no idea what she was walking into.

Not that it was my job to protect her. She was here to do a job, nothing more.

I was just about to pour myself another drink when my phone buzzed on the counter. Without looking, I knew who it was. Only one person would call this late without a care in the world.

I swiped the screen and answered, my voice flat. "Michael."

"Damien," Michael's warm but slightly exasperated tone came through. "Tell me you haven't forgotten."

"Forgotten what?" I asked, already regretting picking up the call.

There was a pause. Then, Michael practically shouted, "My wedding, Damien! Don't play dumb with me. It's this weekend!"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I haven't forgotten, Michael. I've just... got a lot on my plate right now."

"A lot on your plate?" Michael's voice rose in disbelief. "You're telling me my wedding, the one I've been planning for a year, is slipping your mind because of some business nonsense?"

"It's not nonsense," I snapped, my grip tightening on the phone. "I've got a scandal to clean up and a company to run. Forgive me if I'm not obsessing over flower arrangements."

"Flower arrangements?" Michael laughed, but there was no humor in it. "This isn't about flowers, Damien. This is about you being there for me. You're my best man, for crying out loud!"

"I'll be there," I said, though my tone was more dismissive than reassuring.

"You don't sound like you mean it," Michael shot back. "You've been like this ever since..." He trailed off, but I knew where he was going.

"Don't," I warned, my voice low and sharp.

"Ever since Elise," Michael finished, ignoring my warning. "You've shut yourself off, Damien. You don't trust anyone, especially not women. You're letting your past ruin your future."

My chest tightened, and anger flared up like a wildfire. "This isn't about Elise," I said coldly. "And you don't get to bring her up."

"I'm bringing her up because someone has to!" Michael's voice was firm. "You can't keep running from..."

I cut him off by ending the call. The room was silent, save for my own heavy breathing. My hand clenched the phone so tightly I thought it might break.

Elise.

Her name alone was enough to make my jaw clench and my mind spiral into places I didn't want to go. She was a chapter I had closed a long time ago,a painful lesson in why trusting anyone, especially women, was a mistake.

I pushed myself off the couch and made my way back to the kitchen. My movements were tense, every step fueled by the anger boiling inside me. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured myself a generous amount, the amber liquid catching the dim light.

Raising the glass, I stared at it for a moment before taking a long, burning sip. It didn't erase the memories, but it dulled the edges just enough.

Michael didn't understand. No one did.

Trusting people only gave them the power to hurt you. And I wasn't going to let that happen again.

As I leaned against the counter, the city lights stretching out before me, one thought lingered in my mind:

I had too much at stake to let my guard down.

And yet, Sophia Reeds' fiery gaze flashed in my memory, uninvited and unwelcome.

"Focus, Damien," I muttered to myself, downing the rest of the whiskey.

There was no room for distractions. Not now. Not ever.