Chapter 1 - TELL ME HIS NAME
Damian’s hand stopped in the air.
He had been reaching toward Tessa’s collar.
Or perhaps toward the streak of ruined concealer beneath her jaw.
It didn’t matter.
Tessa had flinched.
Not subtly.
Not the ordinary reflex of someone startled by unexpected movement.
She had recoiled as though the raised hand already contained pain.
Damian lowered it immediately.
Something inside his expression changed.
Not softness.
Damian Rossy did not soften.
The stillness simply became colder.
“Who?”
Tessa’s fingers tightened around the P&L folder.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Damian turned.
Walked to the office door.
Closed it.
Then locked it.
The click made her stomach twist.
“Mr. Rossy—”
“Sit.”
“I have payroll.”
“Payroll can wait.”
“People are expecting—”
“Tessa.”
His voice remained almost gentle.
That frightened her more.
“Sit.”
She lowered herself into one of the leather chairs.
Damian returned behind the desk but did not sit.
He looked at the line where the makeup had smeared.
“Did someone do that to you?”
“It’s nothing.”
He stared.
Tessa hated herself for saying it.
Nothing.
The favorite word of frightened women.
Nothing happened.
Nothing is wrong.
It looks worse than it is.
I made him angry.
He didn’t mean it.
Nothing.
Damian reached for the phone on his desk.
Panic shot through her.
“No.”
His hand stopped.
“Don’t call anyone.”
“I haven’t.”
“You were going to.”
“Yes.”
“Please.”
He looked at her.
That word had been harder than any lie.
“Who are you afraid I’ll call?”
Tessa swallowed painfully.
“Your people.”
A faint movement crossed his jaw.
“You think I’m going to send someone to beat whoever did this.”
“I think you’re Damian Rossy.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s enough of one.”
He studied her.
Then sat.
“All right.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“I won’t send anyone.”
Suspicion immediately replaced panic.
“Just like that?”
“No.”
He folded his hands.
“I am going to ask you questions.”
“You are going to decide which ones you answer.”
“And if the person who did that presents an immediate danger, I’m going to tell you exactly what options exist.”
She stared.
That was not the response she expected.
Damian leaned back.
“Name.”
Tessa looked toward the locked door.
“You said I could decide.”
“You can.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because sometimes people need to hear themselves refuse.”
She almost laughed.
“You rehearse that?”
“No.”
“Sounds rehearsed.”
“I spend time around attorneys.”
Despite everything, something in her chest loosened.
Then Damian’s eyes dropped to her neck again.
The temporary humor vanished.
“Did Trent do it?”
Tessa stopped breathing.
Damian had never met Trent.
“How do you know his name?”
“You listed an emergency contact when you started.”
“That could’ve been anyone.”
“You pay his gambling debts.”
Her stomach dropped.
“You’ve been looking through my accounts?”
“No.”
“You pay debt collectors from payroll deposits within forty-eight hours of being paid.”
“You have requested three salary advances in eleven months.”
“You asked payroll last spring whether compensation could be redirected to a different account without appearing on your mailed tax statement.”
His gaze did not leave hers.
“I notice patterns.”
Shame burned through her.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Tessa looked down.
The silence stretched.
Finally:
“Yes.”
One word.
Damian became completely motionless.
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
“Hands around your throat?”
She looked up sharply.
“How—”
“The bruise pattern.”
He swallowed.
“My mother wore scarves for eleven years.”
Tessa had never heard Damian speak about his mother.
Nobody at Oak Haven did.
The revelation disappeared almost as soon as it came.
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No.”
“Difficulty breathing?”
“For a few seconds.”
“Swallowing?”
“It hurts.”
“Voice change?”
“A little.”
Damian reached for his phone again.
Tessa stood.
“I said no.”
“I’m calling a doctor.”
“I don’t want a doctor.”
“A strangulation injury can become dangerous later.”
“I know.”
“Then why are we arguing?”
“Because I don’t want this becoming a thing.”
His eyes sharpened.
“It already became a thing when he put his hands on your throat.”
She looked away.
“I need time.”
“You have it.”
“I need you not to do anything.”
“I told you I won’t send men after him.”
“Nothing.”
Damian was silent.
Then:
“I cannot promise nothing.”
Her heart sank.
He continued before she could speak.
“If he comes here, security will stop him.”
“If he threatens you in this building, it will be documented.”
“If you become medically unstable, I will call emergency services whether you approve or not.”
“That is the limit of your veto.”
Tessa wanted to be angry.
Instead she felt strangely safe.
It made her want to cry.
She hated that more.
Damian unlocked a drawer.
Removed a business card.
Placed it on the desk.
A physician’s name.
Emergency medicine.
Private clinic.
No Rossy name anywhere.
“She is not on my payroll.”
Tessa didn’t touch it.
“I can’t afford private medicine.”
“I can.”
“No.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You don’t get to turn this into a debt.”
That sentence changed him.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then he picked up the card and wrote on the back.
“You’re right.”
He crossed out something.
Handed it back.
“This physician volunteers with a domestic violence clinic on Thursdays.”
“No payment from me.”
“No obligation.”
“You choose.”
Tessa stared at the card.
Damian Rossy had just accepted a boundary.
Trent had not accepted one in six years.
She slipped the card into her pocket.
“Thank you.”
Damian nodded.
Then:
“Why did he hurt you?”
The question made her laugh bitterly.
“Because the Knicks lost.”
Damian did not laugh.
“That was the excuse.”
Tessa rubbed her thumb along the folder edge.
“He’d been drinking.”
“That is another excuse.”
“I know.”
“Then what happened?”
She looked toward the door.
“He wanted my laptop.”
Damian became still.
“What?”
“He said his computer died.”
“He needed to send something.”
“I told him my work laptop can’t leave my bag.”
“What happened?”
“He got angry.”
“What exactly did he ask for?”
Tessa hesitated.
Then memory returned.
Not Trent’s hands.
His words afterward.
When he was pacing.
Cursing.
Calling her selfish.
He had said something strange.
Something she barely processed at the time.
“He asked whether I still had the quarter-end backup.”
Damian’s expression changed.
“What backup?”
“The restaurant archive.”
Tessa’s stomach tightened.
“Every quarter I export vendor reconciliation, tax support, payroll summaries, and invoice scans.”
“Normally it goes to the server.”
“Last month we had a server failure.”
“I made an encrypted physical backup.”
“Where?”
Tessa looked at him.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
Only she and—
Her breath caught.
Bobby.
The head bartender.
No.
Bobby had been standing there when IT told Tessa to create a local backup.
He joked about accountants protecting numbers like nuclear launch codes.
But he had no password.
“Trent shouldn’t know there is one.”
“No.”
Damian leaned forward.
“What did he call it?”
“Quarter-end backup.”
“Exact words?”
“Yes.”
Damian’s eyes went flat.
Tessa suddenly understood why.
This was no longer only about an abusive boyfriend.
“How would he know?”
Damian did not answer.
He stood.
Walked to a cabinet.
Pulled out a ledger.
Set it before her.
“Three months ago, my auditors found a discrepancy.”
Tessa frowned.
“In Oak Haven?”
“Across four legitimate businesses.”
“How much?”
“Six hundred twelve thousand dollars.”
She stared.
“I would have seen that.”
“That is what concerns me.”
“Where?”
“Vendor reimbursements.”
“Which vendors?”
Damian slid over a list.
Tessa read.
Mariner Textile.
Grand Coast Beverage.
Lennox Commercial Cleaning.
She recognized every company.
Then one name stopped her.
Ridgeway Hospitality Services.
“That isn’t ours.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I maintain the vendor master.”
Damian looked at her.
“Ridgeway received twenty-eight payments authorized under your employee credentials.”
The room tilted.
“No.”
“Totaling two hundred nineteen thousand.”
“No.”
“Tessa—”
“I didn’t authorize those.”
“I believe you.”
That stopped her.
“Why?”
“Because if you were stealing from me, you would not use your own login.”
She stared.
“That’s your reason?”
“One.”
“What’s the other?”
“You corrected a twelve-dollar discrepancy in the produce account last month and stayed forty minutes late doing it.”
He pushed the paper toward her.
“A woman who steals two hundred thousand dollars does not send me a three-paragraph email about twelve dollars.”
Her throat tightened.
Damian continued.
“Someone has your credentials.”
Tessa thought of Trent.
His sudden interest in her work.
The nights he borrowed her phone.
The time she woke at three in the morning and found him at the kitchen table with her bag beside him.
She had believed he was looking for cash.
“What is on the physical backup?”
“Everything before the discrepancy appeared in the monthly rollups.”
“Including access logs?”
“If IT configured the export correctly.”
Damian’s face hardened.
“Where is it?”
Tessa hesitated.
“Not here.”
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you.”
His eyebrows rose.
“It’s mine.”
“It contains your company’s data.”
“Yes.”
“Then why not tell me?”
“Because somebody inside Oak Haven told Trent it exists.”
That silenced him.
Good.
She continued.
“You just told me someone used my credentials.”
“If I tell you where the backup is, and you tell the wrong person—”
Damian almost smiled.
“You think the leak could be mine.”
“I think that’s what numbers say.”
For the first time since she entered the office, Damian looked genuinely impressed.
“Good.”
“What?”
“Keep thinking like that.”
He walked to the door.
Unlocked it.
Then stopped.
“Martha—”
“Tessa.”
He looked almost offended.
“Sorry.”
“Wrong traumatized employee.”
That earned a brief smile.
Then he became serious.
“You are not going home tonight.”
Her defenses rose immediately.
“You don’t decide that.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I am telling you I believe someone with access to my finances has learned your boyfriend can be bought.”
Tessa’s blood went cold.
“He owes money.”
“How much?”
“About forty thousand.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“He changed bookmakers.”
Damian’s face tightened.
“My people do not hold his debt.”
“I know.”
“You checked?”
“Yes.”
She stared.
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“You asked for the third salary advance.”
His expression hardened.
“I wanted to know whether somebody was using one of my employees as a door into my business.”
Tessa’s knees felt weak.
“And?”
“Three days later Trent’s entire debt disappeared.”
“What?”
She genuinely had not known.
“He told me he still owed—”
“He lied.”
Damian opened the office door.
Then looked back.
“The question isn’t why Trent hurt you.”
Tessa understood before he finished.
“The question is who bought him.”
Damian nodded.
“And what they expected him to take from you.”
Her hand moved unconsciously toward the card in her pocket.
Doctor.
Safe clinic.
Choice.
Then toward the bruise beneath her collar.
For months, she had believed Trent’s violence was chaos.
Ugly.
Personal.
Meaningless.
Now a more frightening possibility opened beneath it.
Someone might have discovered exactly what Trent was.
And instead of helping her escape him—
May you like
they had decided to use him.
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