Seducing the billionaire CEO

Emma's POV

I stepped out of the hospital doors and onto the wide, tiled steps, the cold evening breeze brushing against my face. My hands instinctively slid into the pockets of my jacket as I paused at the final step, glancing back at the looming hospital building. The words Golden Heart Medical Center glinted faintly on the wall, illuminated by soft floodlights.

A sigh escaped my lips-long, deep, and full of weariness. Gratitude filled me as I thought of Mrs. Lydia, my mom's old school friend. She was more than just a classmate to my mother; she was practically family. Back in their younger years, they did everything together-parties, charity events, even random midnight cravings for steak, as Mom would fondly reminisce. But things changed when my mom's health started to decline.

Mrs. Lydia, now a doctor at Golden Heart, was a godsend. Not only was she the one overseeing my mom's care, but she also made sure Mom got the best treatment the hospital could offer, even bending the rules of her tight schedule. Without her, I don't know how we would have managed this far.

Oh, where are my manners? I'm Emma Cooper-an only child until my father decided to complicate my life by marrying his second wife. But that's a drama I'll save for another day. My life hasn't exactly been easy.

It started when I was eight. Mom was healthy, cheerful, and the strongest woman I knew. Then came the endless cycle of illnesses. First, it was severe typhoid that wouldn't let go, then one mysterious ailment after another. By the time I turned eleven, my father-overwhelmed and, frankly, selfish-washed his hands of her care. He left us in every way that mattered, though we still lived under his roof.

Abandoned doesn't even begin to describe how I felt. His relatives made it worse. They whispered that my mom had bewitched him to marry her in the first place, calling her all kinds of names I won't repeat. No one offered help. Not a single dime. So, at the tender age of eleven, I had to grow up fast. Hustling became my way of life-juggling odd jobs, studying whenever I could, and fighting tooth and nail to keep my mom alive.

Now, I'm twenty-one, still standing, still hustling. College? Somehow, I clawed my way through that, but furthering my education feels like a distant dream-a luxury I can't afford. Every penny goes to my mom's health insurance and the bills that insurance doesn't cover. Mrs. Lydia has been my rock through it all, and I owe her more than words can express.

Snapping back to the present, I pulled out my phone. 5:20 p.m. A sharp jolt of panic shot through me. "Gosh, I have to be at work before 6:00!" I muttered under my breath, scanning the street for an approaching cab. Spotting one, I darted forward, waving frantically until it screeched to a stop.

I jumped in, panting slightly as I settled into the seat. "Good evening, sir," I greeted, my voice tinged with urgency.

"Good evening, miss. Where to?" the driver asked politely, his calm demeanor contrasting with my rushed state.

"Crystals Lounge, please," I replied, leaning back against the headrest and letting out a deep sigh.

Crystals Lounge wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills-or at least chipped away at them. For the past few years, I'd worked the evening shift there, serving drinks and wiping tables for four hours straight. My mornings were spent as a delivery girl, weaving through the city on my bike, delivering parcels to all sorts of people. Between both jobs, I barely had time to breathe, let alone live.

The cab sped along the dimly lit streets, and I stared out of the window, watching the city blur past. The hum of the car's engine was oddly soothing. I clenched my fists briefly, as if holding onto my resolve.

"I, Emma Cooper, will do all in my power to survive and take care of my mom," I whispered to myself, the words a quiet vow.

The cab jerked to a halt in front of Crystals Lounge, snapping me out of my thoughts. I paid the driver quickly and stepped out, bracing myself for another night of work. The bright neon sign of the lounge glared down at me, as if daring me to keep pushing forward.

And I would. For her.

Damon's POV

The office was suffocating, even with the sprawling skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The setting sun painted the city in hues of gold and crimson, but inside these walls, it was just another day of endless work.

I flipped through the stack of files on my desk, my irritation mounting with each page. The figures didn't add up-again. My jaw tightened as I slammed the folder shut. How hard could it be to find someone who actually knew how to do their job?

The knock on the door was tentative, almost apologetic, before one of my junior executives walked in. His face was a mixture of nerves and fake confidence-a combination I despised.

"Mr. Blackwood," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "about the Q3 projections you requested..."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"Well, there seems to have been an oversight in the preliminary calculations," he stammered, shifting uncomfortably under my gaze.

"An oversight?" I repeated, my tone dangerously calm. "Let me guess. You forgot to cross-check with the finance department before submitting this?"

He nodded, and I felt my patience snap. I leaned forward, clasping my hands on the desk.

"Do you understand what happens when you make mistakes like this?" I asked coldly. "This isn't some college internship where errors are shrugged off. Every number on that sheet represents a real decision, a real consequence. Get out of my office, and don't come back until you've fixed it."

The man scurried out, leaving the door ajar behind him. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. I didn't have time for this nonsense.

The intercom buzzed, and my assistant, Lila, spoke. "Damon, you have the Jenkins call in five minutes."

"Push it back," I replied curtly.

"Again?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation. "You've already rescheduled twice. They're going to start thinking you're avoiding them."

"Maybe I am," I muttered, but I knew she was right. "Fine. Get them on the line. Just give me a minute."

She didn't argue further, which was why I valued her. Unlike most people around me, Lila knew when to press and when to back off.

I stood and walked to the window, staring out at the city as the lights began to flicker to life. This was my empire-gleaming, unshakable, and yet, at times, unbearably hollow.

I turned back to my desk, catching sight of the invite for the charity gala sitting on top of the mess of files. A meaningless event, but one I couldn't skip. The Blackwood name carried weight, and people liked to see me present at these things.

Charity. Networking. Handshakes. Masks. Nothing but a thin veneer of civility in a cutthroat world.

I shook my head and sat back down, bracing myself for the call. Tonight would be just another night in the life of Damon Blackwood-until it wasn't.