Damian's POV

The restaurant was elegant, as expected. Sophie Peterson was already seated when I arrived. She lifted her gaze to me and gave a subtle nod. No fake smile. No effort to seem overly warm or approachable. She wore a dark blue tailored suit that contrasted with her pale skin and jet-black hair, perfectly tucked behind her ear. Everything about her was restrained.

Nothing like the spoiled brat I'd been expecting.

"Mr. Winter," she greeted, extending her hand.

"Miss Peterson."

"Sophie, please. We're not in a boardroom."

"Damian, then."

We sat, then ordered wine. The silence between us was comfortable, which was unexpected. I didn't enjoy long introductions or empty conversation. But I also didn't like mental distractions, and Stella Harper was becoming exactly that.

She'd been strange today. She hadn't looked at me even once. She'd even stopped by my office to ask if I'd need her after work.

"You seem distracted," Sophie said, pulling me back to the table. "I