Chapter 2

The next day, yawning endlessly, I had just settled into Damian’s executive leather chair when my phone buzzed with a text.

"Open the door."

My eyes went wide. How was Damian back already?

How was I supposed to explain the mountain of junk food covering his entire desk?

I forgot to mention—during the month Damian was away, I had completely turned his office into my private fortress, forbidding anyone else from stepping inside.

The room was packed wall-to-wall with snacks.

When life tenderizes you over and over, you end up bouncy and resilient.

Oh, wait. That was just the gummy bear I had casually popped into my mouth.

"Approved!"

Facing the urgent knocking on the door, I scrambled up and pulled it open, trying my best to use my small frame to block the mountain of chips and candy behind me.

Damian was still breathing heavily, looking exhausted and windswept, clearly straight off a long-haul flight.

"Damian—I mean, Mr. Rivers… sir…"

Under his sharp, questioning gaze, I could only dart my eyes around guiltily. In the end, whatever pathetic excuse I had prepared went down my throat along with the half-chewed gummy.

I hung my head and fidgeted nervously with my fingers. I knew turning his office into a convenience store aisle was wrong. If he threw all the snacks out right now, I’d accept it.

Just throw away the snacks, please don't throw away me!

Instead of ordering security to clear the desk, Damian let out an irritated hiss.

I looked up, confused, only to see him yanking impatiently at his tie.

Realization struck me instantly.

"Mr. Rivers, here, let me get you a new one! I told you a ten-dollar online tie doesn't match your commanding presence at all."

His smoldering anger was doused by a splash of cold water. He stared at me, bewildered.

"This? Ten dollars?"

"Uh, yeah. Poor kids learn to manage the house early. Save where you can, spend where you must."

I scratched my head awkwardly. Damian saw right through my act.

He pointed at the tiny, subtle stud earring on my ear.

"You bought that at an auction for twelve million dollars. You call yourself poor?"

Before I could come up with another excuse, Damian stepped forward and pinned me against the edge of the desk.

He held up his phone, showing a comment with over a hundred thousand likes.

I opened my mouth to laugh it off, but then my eyes went wide.

Wait… isn't that my comment from last night?!

"Does this mean Mr. Rivers thinks I have the potential to be a lifestyle influencer?"

Damian leaned down, pressing closer.

His deep voice carried a dangerous, husky edge.

"Like to crank engines, huh? Why don't you crank mine, then?"

I didn't answer him. My eyes had already wandered somewhere lower.

I turned my head slightly and swallowed hard. Back when I gossiped with my girls, we figured seven, maybe eight inches was the absolute ceiling.

Looking at it now, a conservative estimate was… definitely nine.

Noticing my silence, Damian loosened his grip on me.

"Did… did I hurt you?"

I shook my head with a goofy grin. Catching him off guard, I pulled a sly move, slipped right under his arm, and bolted toward the corporate supply warehouse.

How bizarre. Who actually has a fetish like that?

"Damian wants me to crank his engine."

I spent the whole walk trying to steady my breathing. This was the first real task Damian had ever given me. I couldn't mess it up.

I had been sheltered and protected by my parents my entire life. The only eccentric skill I possessed was something I had secretly learned on our family farm years ago.

I personally preferred peace and quiet, and because old-school tractor engines were deafeningly loud, I hadn't touched a manual crank in years.

Who would've thought an elite billionaire had a thing for vintage farm tractors?

I rummaged through the maintenance wing and storage yard until I finally found the biggest hand crank they had.

Carrying the heavy iron rod, I walked up to Damian and asked hesitantly, "Are… are you sure about this?"

Damian looked at me, then looked down at the iron rod in my hands. He froze for a second, then a deep crimson rushed all the way up his neck to his ears.

His voice was hoarse.

"I mean… it’s not out of the question."

I could tell this was his first time. He looked completely lost and flustered.

When it comes to this kind of thing, you can't show fear on your first try, or you won't be able to put your back into it.

Taking his reaction as confirmation, I drove him straight to my private family estate.

The staff had the day off today. In this massive, sprawling estate, it was just the two of us.

I told Damian to close his eyes. Then, with lightning speed, I shoved the iron crank right into the starter shaft of the vintage utility rig parked out back.