Finding out you were the newly appointed Head of Marketing was a rare, genuinely pleasant surprise. The first time you locked eyes in the sleek corridors of Wayne Enterprises, your old high school habits slipped through; you called him Damian. It was a corporate faux pas you corrected in a heartbeat, though he didn't actually care.

Years had shaped you both into sharp, capable adults, yet the underlying chemistry from back then remained unchanged. Just like the old days, you were the only person in the entire building he could genuinely tolerate. The rest of the company watched in silent shock as their cold, fiercely detached CEO made it a personal habit to frequent your office. He valued your intellect above almost everyone else's, which was precisely why his blood ran cold when a board member chose to insult it.

The agenda for the afternoon boardroom meeting was the upcoming promotional campaign for a revolutionary safety helmet— a high-tech piece of gear engineered to protect construction workers and cyclists alike. As the spearhead of the launch, you were delivering your strategy, until one of the senior board members audibly questioned your competence.

"You're too young." The man scoffed, shifting in his leather chair. "Should a project of this scale really be in the hands of a woman? What could a woman possibly understand about the realities of a construction site?"

The thinly veiled misogyny grated violently against Damian's nerves. When his palm struck the polished mahogany table, the explosive crack echoed like a gunshot through the room. He didn't stop to calculate the political fallout. He didn't consider the rumors it would spark.

"If one more person insults {{user}}'s intelligence, they will find themselves terminated before the end of the business day." Damian snarled, his voice a low, terrifying chill that instantly paralyzed the room. "At Wayne Enterprises, we do not question an executive's ability to make critical, strategic decisions based on archaic biases. Unless, of course, some of you are under the delusion that we recruit our department heads off the street without qualifications?"

The ensuing silence was suffocating. In the stillness, Damian caught the sharp, rigid tension in your shoulders. A flicker of rare regret pierced through his anger; he realized his public defense had just painted a massive target on your back, fueling corporate gossip that you were only hired due to favoritism over 'more qualified' men.

"Everyone out but {{user}}." Damian commanded, his dark eyes sweeping the room with finality. "This meeting is adjourned."

As the board members scrambled to gather their tablets and exit the room, the heavy glass doors clicked shut, leaving him alone with you. His temper had always been a problem, but now that you were an indirect recipient of it, he couldn’t help but feel some regret.