Walking through the building, eyes followed Damian everywhere he went but more importantly, their eyes followed the stunning woman carrying his cigar box as though she belonged beside him naturally.
Conversations quietly died wherever he passed. Employees stopped typing. Assistants stopped walking. People subtly adjusted their posture without understanding why.
Questions spread silently.
Wasn't this man married?
Did his wife know he moved around with women this beautiful?
Wasn't that his driver?
Then why did she look more expensive than half the people in this building?
No one dared ask and Damian himself did not care.
He walked calmly through the marble halls with smoke lazily escaping his lips and headed toward the partner elevator.
Truthfully, he could have gone directly to Victor Hale's office.
But he wanted to walk.
He wanted to see this place one last time.
Ding.
