Page 114 of Sexting the Boss

One I immediately recognize from the office. Tall, built like a brick wall, expression utterly unreadable. Damien steps forward, speaking quietly to them before turning back to me.

“Sasha, this is Roman and Oleg,” Damien introduces. “They’re part of my security team. They’ll check the apartment.”

Security team?

My stomach flips uneasily. Why would he even need a security team?

He’s a powerful businessman, sure, but this feels…excessive.

“Hi,” I manage weakly, waving a little. Roman nods politely, while Oleg barely acknowledges me, already moving with focused precision through the rooms.

I watch nervously as they disappear down the hallway, sweeping through every corner and shadow. Damien stands beside me protectively, one hand resting lightly on my back.

“Damien?” I whisper, looking up at him. “Why do you need security like this?”

He looks down, expression softening slightly. “It’s just a precaution,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb along my shoulder blade. “People in my position often have to be cautious.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, but a small nagging voice inside me whispers that he’s not telling me everything.

Before I can press further, Oleg returns from down the hall, holding something in his hand. It’s small—maybe a device?—but I can’t see it clearly from where I’m sitting. Oleg speaks to Damien quietly, too softly for me to hear.

“What is it?” I ask, my anxiety climbing again.

Damien turns to me quickly, expression carefully neutral. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he says smoothly.

He’s deflecting. I can feel it.

My chest tightens. “But?—”

“Trust me,” he interrupts softly, his eyes searching mine. “Everything’s under control.”

Damien’s fingers brush my arm gently, but his eyes have already turned distant, preoccupied. He moves toward Oleg, speaking quietly enough that I can’t hear clearly. All I catch are fragments.

“…make sure she gets home safely…”

“…no stops…”

I rise to my feet, the oversized shirt falling loosely around my thighs. “Damien?” I whisper, stepping toward him, confusion knotting inside me.

He turns around, expression strained.

“You’re sending me home?” My voice trembles embarrassingly, and I immediately regret it.

He reaches out, his thumb brushing my cheek gently. “It’s for your safety, Sasha. Just a precaution.”

I glance at Oleg, who waits impassively by the door, eyes respectfully averted from our conversation. My heart sinks. Is this it? After everything that happened, is he just dismissing me?

I lower my voice to almost a whisper. “Did I…do something wrong?”

His eyes widen slightly. “God, no.” He cups my face, gently forcing me to meet his gaze. “This has nothing to do with you. It’s complicated.”

The word “complicated” stings more than it should. But I nod, stepping back, feeling suddenly cold and small.

Damien watches me, a flicker of regret passing over his expression.

“Let Oleg take you home. Please.” It sounds more like an order than a request, but there’s concern there too, softening his voice.

I gather my clothes quietly, feeling his gaze following me, hot and intense. Oleg escorts me down in the elevator silently, respectful but distant. I’m painfully aware I’m still in Damien’s shirt, clutching my dress in my hands, cheeks burning red-hot with embarrassment.

---