Damien's office was exactly what Alexander had expected....the workspace of a man who projected power through restraint rather than excess. Clean lines, serious art, the kind of understated wealth that didn't need to announce itself.
The man himself was standing at the window when Alexander walked in, and for a moment Alexander simply assessed him the way he assessed every significant figure he encountered in business: quickly, completely, without sentiment.
Damien Blackwood was younger than Alexander had been when he was building the equivalent of what Damien had already built. He carried his authority naturally, not performed....the difference between someone who'd grown into power and someone who'd simply acquired it. His face was controlled in a way that told Alexander he was running on fury that had been deliberately compressed into something functional.
Alexander recognized that state intimately. He lived in it himself.
