Sweat dripped down his chiseled jawline, landing on her damp chest. It was an intimate moment that could unsettle anyone.

Her throat went inexplicably dry, and she swallowed hard. "All that sweating in such a short time? You nervous, or something?" she teased.

Emiliano Mason pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, choosing silence. The truth, he feared, might send her running.

As they stepped from the shadows into the light, Amaris Mason's anxious gaze flitted everywhere, never quite settling. He read every flicker of expression, sensing exactly what she was thinking.

"I'm afraid you'll rat me out to Grandfather," Emiliano said, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"That I'm keeping you from entering the house."

"......"

"It's your first time here. Thought I'd come down and show you the way. Not like I was just waiting for you."

"Well... thanks, then."

The warm, stuffy elevator made the awkward conversation even more suffocating. Luckily, the ride was short.

The elevator opened straight into the foyer—one unit per floor. Emiliano kicked off his shoes and set her down. "I carried you all the way up here without breaking a sweat, and you call me weak?"

Years had passed, but he still held a grudge.

"Where's my luggage?" she asked, dodging his remark.

Emiliano gestured impatiently. "Do I look like your assistant or something?"

"Of course not. Thanks for the help, Mr. Mason."

Her formal tone made Emiliano want to say a whole lot more, but he decided it wasn't exactly appropriate for their first day living together.

Wanting to dodge any more awkwardness, Amaris asked for the bathroom and quickly excused herself.

Emiliano sighed and headed to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of ice water and downing it to cool his frustration.

When Amaris returned, her hair damp from washing her face, she looked refreshed. This was Emiliano's private space, free from the household staff bustling around the family estate, giving her a sense of freedom.

Studying his unreadable expression, she asked, "Where's the guest room?"

"I don't intend for this to be a platonic arrangement," he quipped.

Amaris shot him a frosty glare, one that could slice right through him if looks could kill.

It was only the first day, and Emiliano wasn't expecting any miracles. If she held back the sarcasm, he'd call it a win.

After a brief silence, he gestured down the hall. "Both rooms are master suites. Mine's on the left. Feel free to knock anytime."

That was his final act of defiance.

Amaris simply replied, "Thank you," and headed to the right with her luggage.

A chill settled over Emiliano. Irritated, he loosened his shirt collar and shrugged off his damp shirt as he retreated to his own room.

An annoying ringtone cut through the air—Martin Rose was calling.

Emiliano answered tersely, "Hello?"

Martin immediately burst out laughing. "Picking up the phone now? Guess you got shut down."

Once the door was closed, Emiliano didn't bother hiding his disappointment. He sighed heavily. "Yeah, so, Martin the Casanova, got any tips for your little brother?"

Martin was taken aback, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Are you seriously asking me for advice? Well, first off, call me 'big bro.'"

"Dream on!"

"Hey, I've known Amaris for years. Maybe I could put in a good word for you."

"In her eyes, you're just like me."

"That's not fair. You're the king of bad boys; I'm just the jester."

"Buzz off. If you're no help, quit bothering me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, these things take time, you know."

"To hell with patience, you jerk!"

With a final curse, Emiliano hung up, ignoring any further calls. Patience had never been his strong suit.

——

The next morning, Amaris arrived early at Mason Group headquarters. As the new head of the executive office, building a good rapport with her team was essential.

The office had two secretaries: Kayden Wilson, who managed meetings and schedules, and Alexis Patel, who handled personal tasks.

A new female chief secretary parachuting into the department was bound to stir up some feelings.

Amaris fired up her computer, planning to review her colleagues' reports before calling a meeting.

An unexpected call from Hazel Wilson interrupted her focus.

"Why the early call?" Amaris asked, a little surprised.

Having just woken up from a hangover, Hazel's voice was hoarse but urgent. "I got a solid tip—someone's out to get you."

"What?" Amaris almost laughed at the absurdity. In a law-abiding society, who would actually act on a grudge?

"Hazel has a wealthy backer named Karl Reyes, well-known in capital circles. Strange that they came after you instead of the real leaker, which makes me think you're being targeted."

"Amaris, maybe you should lie low for a bit."

Calm and collected, Amaris knew little about the darker side of the entertainment industry and wasn't afraid. "No need. I'm safe inside Mason Group—they won't get in."

"But you do have to leave to go home."

At that moment, the office door beeped, signaling someone's arrival.

Lowering her voice, Amaris replied, "I'll handle it. We'll chat later." She ended the call just as Alexis walked in.

"You're here early, Ms. Mason!" Alexis said, pleasantly surprised, holding up a paper bag. "Had breakfast yet? I accidentally got extra—want some?"

"Thanks, but I've eaten."

Going over Alexis's report on Emiliano's dietary habits, one detail caught Amaris's eye: cilantro was listed as his favorite.

Cilantro, a favorite? No way. Emiliano couldn't stand even a hint of it and would have every speck picked out of his food.

Alexis wasn't new to the role. She'd been Emiliano's secretary since he became CEO at twenty-five, earning a rep as Mason Group's "top secretary" for her meticulousness and charm.

Such a glaring mistake coming from the usually meticulous Alexis hinted at a hasty brush-off, and a clumsy one at that.

Amaris watched as Alexis carefully arranged a plate, then delivered it to the CEO's office.

A ten-dollar sandwich, presented with her flair, looked like a hundred-dollar delicacy. True effort, indeed.

Emiliano Mason and Kayden Wilson walked into the office together, having met in the elevator, their conversation still on work matters. The second Emiliano stepped inside, his eyes locked onto Amaris Mason. His face was unreadable, but his focus didn't waver for a moment.

Seeing Alexis Patel rise to greet him, Amaris reluctantly did the same. "Good morning, Mr. Mason," she managed, the words flat.

Emiliano stopped at her desk. "Amaris, my office. Now."

"Yes, sir," she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

The air in the office thickened the moment the executive door shut. Alexis's polite smile twisted into something envious. She turned to Kayden, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Emiliano's brought in someone with obvious talent. Aren't you worried she's gonna take your spot?"

Kayden stayed quiet, his attention fixed on the day's materials.

"She's got Emiliano in her corner. All you've got is yourself. If you let her get comfortable as chief secretary, you'll be pushed aside—reassigned, or maybe even canned."

Catching the flicker of panic in Kayden's eyes, Alexis leaned in. "Why not have her handle the reception for Roger Blake?"

Kayden's frown deepened at the name. Roger Blake—Brighton's regional distributor. Sure, he was good at his job, but the guy was a total womanizer. Any dinner with a woman present was basically an open invitation for him to make a move. Alexis herself had barely dodged an ugly situation with him once, and only because Emiliano showed up just in time. After that, Kayden always handled Roger's visits personally.

"I've laid it all out for you. You know what to do. If she can't cut it here, she's still got Emiliano to fall back on. But if you're the one pushed out… where are you gonna go?"

Kayden sat with that thought. Back in the elevator, Emiliano had told him to follow Amaris's lead and report any problems directly to her. It felt like an unofficial demotion.

Inside the executive office, Amaris immediately spotted the breakfast spread on the desk. Emiliano sat down and slid the platter her way. "That's for you."

"No, thanks. I already ate," she refused, fighting to keep the irritation out of her voice. The way he was always on her about her meals was overbearing. "Alexis prepared it for you."

Emiliano caught the edge in her tone. "It's part of her job."

"Obviously I know that. So what's your point?"

Her refusal was crystal clear. Staring at that impassive face, he felt like he was trying to melt a block of ice. After a long silence, she let out a sigh. "Can you just give me my assignments, please?"

Emiliano forced his frustration down, keeping his expression hard. He sat up, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Yesterday was rushed. I didn't have a chance to explain. For work, coordinate with Kayden. From now on, you're handling office duties. I expect you to fill the chief secretary role and prove Grandpa's trust wasn't misplaced. That's all. You can go."

"Yes, Mr. Mason," she said, turning on her heel without a backward glance.

He ground his teeth, silently wondering how the hell she managed to be even colder than him.

Later that afternoon, at the hotel, Amaris and Kayden met to welcome Roger Blake and his crew of four. As soon as Roger got out of the car, his eyes locked onto Amaris—instantly captivated. His gaze swept over her with greedy curiosity, silently marveling at the stunning woman standing before him. She was the epitome of human beauty. In the sunlight, Amaris stood tall, her pale skin making her delicate features even more striking. Her blossom-shaped eyes held a slight flush from the heat, looking dewy and soft. Her makeup was sweat-proof, giving her skin a delicate matte finish that only amped up her allure. Roger was absolutely taken with this style.

"Roger, we meet again…" Kayden started, but Roger was completely oblivious, already reaching for Amaris. "What's your name, lovely lady?"

His accented English nearly made Amaris laugh. She sidestepped smoothly and gave a slight nod. "Hello, Mr. Blake. I'm Amaris Mason, Emiliano's chief secretary. Newly appointed."

Despite failing to touch her hand, Roger's interest only deepened. The unattainable always intrigued him more.

"Kayden, you know me well. This choice is way better than the last."

Kayden felt a jolt but filed that remark away for later. With a partial nod, Amaris gestured politely, "Mr. Blake, you've had a long day in this heat. Let's get you settled in, shall we?"

"Thank you, Amaris. Delighted. Dinner together tonight?"

Amaris paused. Kayden was supposed to be with Emiliano at an industry conference—a fancy dinner banquet that Emiliano, as host, couldn't skip. Two dinners at once, no way to juggle. "Yes, Mr. Blake," she agreed, her voice smooth.

Roger arched an eyebrow, his hands clasped behind his back, teasing. "Great. We'll chat more tonight."

After getting Roger's group settled, Kayden rushed back to the office. Amaris arrived early at the reserved private dining room, touching up her makeup and going over her essentials. Tonight promised to be a challenge. She hoped her preparations wouldn't be needed.

As the hour arrived, everyone for the dinner had shown up. Amaris, with her fresh and professional look, needed little to stand out. Her figure brought the simple suit to life. Roger, seeing her again, was stunned all over again. The earlier matte beauty had shifted into a vibrant, confident executive presence. The table was surrounded by seasoned sharks in the business world, all aware of Roger's intentions toward Amaris but playing dumb, waiting to see what went down.

Being pressured to drink was expected, but openly spiking her wine was a whole other level. Amaris hadn't counted on such blatant nerve.

"Excuse me, I need the restroom."

She shoved Roger's wandering hand off her waist without hesitation, cutting off any chance for retaliation, and bolted to the bathroom. Leaning against the door, she panted. The symptoms hit her hard: dizziness, intense heat, restlessness. Her whole body was on fire, her heart pounding in her ears, every cell screaming, blood boiling.

Thank God she'd come prepared.

She turned on the faucet, gulped water, then shoved her fingers down her throat to make herself puke. After a few rounds, the dark wine surged up. Then she wiped aromatic oil under her nostrils, using the sharp scent to stay alert. To really keep her senses sharp, she let a drop fall straight into her eyes.

A sharp sting in her eyes jolted Amaris Mason awake, snapping her into focus.

From outside the bathroom door, Roger Blake kept knocking with that cocky arrogance, like he already knew he’d won. “Amaris, quit hiding,” he chided, his voice scraping her nerves raw. Just the sound of his voice made her stomach turn.

Amaris ran through her escape options fast. Calum Jordan was too far out to help on short notice, and calling the cops could blow up into a scandal that would trash Mason Group’s name. In the heat of the moment, hitting up Emiliano, who was staying at a hotel nearby, felt like the smartest move.

“Hey, Noah? I'm trapped in the bathroom—Roger Blake,” she whispered urgently into her phone.

The knocking turned to pounding, and soon Roger was kicking the door in. That flimsy bathroom lock wasn’t gonna hold much longer.

Amaris grabbed a bottle of eucalyptus oil and smashed it, drenching her hands.

With a loud crash, the door burst open, and Roger stumbled in, drunk, blocking her only way out with a nasty grin.

Amaris had just thrown up—her hair wet, face damp, eyes red. But to Roger, she looked like some fragile flower, just watered, all rare and tempting.

“Amaris, you’re exactly my type,” he bragged, dropping all pretenses. “Stick with me and you can have whatever you want.”

Her stomach lurched with disgust. Playing along, she said, “Really? But this place is way too cramped. It’s hard to breathe.”

Roger’s throat went dry. He loosened his tie, his bulky body trembling with anticipation. “Don’t need big. Just exciting.”

As he lunged, Amaris whipped her hands up and smeared the sharp-scented stuff all over his face.

Roger blinked, confused. “What the hell is this?”

He wiped his face on instinct, only for his eyes to explode with burning pain—a sharp, cool scent flooding his nose.

“What’d you put on my face?” he roared, lunging at her blind.

Amaris didn’t miss a beat. She slapped him across the face over and over with her slick, oily hands.

There wasn’t much oil in his eyes, and the sting eased as tears poured, but Roger managed to crack open one eye. He snatched her wrist and smacked her back, hard.

The blow knocked Amaris flat on the floor, blood trickling from her lip. Dizzy, bright spots dancing in her vision, she still managed to twist free—her wrists too slippery to hold—and she scrambled into the hallway.

Of course, everyone outside had conveniently disappeared, and the door to the private room was locked solid.

Rage and lust warred on Roger’s face as he squinted at his prey, eyes red, cheeks still burning.

“You’re way feistier than I figured,” he taunted, closing in, peeling off his shirt to show a heaving mound of flesh. “You’re wild, exciting—I like it.”

Amaris choked back tears, twisting the door handle with no luck, her voice climbing with desperation. “Open the door! Mr. Patel, Mr. Smith—you even thought about what happens when you help a crime? Open this door!”

Roger lunged, ripping her blazer clean off.

Realizing no one was coming, Amaris forced herself to stay calm. As Roger sniffed her jacket like a creep, she drove her knee straight into his groin.

He doubled over, face flushing a sick shade of purple as he cursed, “You crazy—”

Without missing a beat, Amaris went for his eyes again, her hands still slick with burning eucalyptus.

Roger screamed, clawing at his own face and only making it worse.

Then, out of nowhere, the lock clicked. Someone was opening it from the outside.

Amaris bolted for the door without a second thought.

The door flew open, and there was Emiliano Mason, face to face with her. He’d come to save her, and for a beat, they both froze.

Without a word, Emiliano draped his jacket over her shoulders, his eyes sweeping the scene behind her—Roger on the floor, shirtless, writhing in pain like the pathetic, humiliated mess he was.

“Everyone, get in here!” Emiliano barked, his voice thick with fury and command, one hand steady on Amaris’s shoulder as he guided her out.

The tension drained from her body, and she sagged against Emiliano, letting him hold her up.

Out in the hallway, a few department heads and two of Amaris’s female colleagues stood awkwardly, clearly tipsy and swaying on their feet.

“What are you all standing around for? Get in there!” Emiliano’s tone left zero room for argument.

Feeling Amaris go limp, he tightened his arm around her waist and lifted her like she weighed nothing.

After snapping out the order to lock the door, Emiliano carried Amaris straight to the elevator, ignoring the hotel manager’s frantic apologies—the guy was terrified of ending up on Mason Group’s blacklist.

In the luxury suite, Emiliano kicked the door shut in the middle of the manager’s rambling, then strode over to lay Amaris on the bed.

For the first time, he really looked at her. Cheeks swollen and bruised. Lip split. Eyes bloodshot. Wrists marked with handprints. And her skin smelled like alcohol and eucalyptus—a sharp, jolting mix.

“Did he drug you?” Emiliano guessed, his voice laced with violence. “I’ll make that bastard pay!”

Amaris grabbed his sleeve, tugging him back. “Don’t do anything stupid... I didn’t let him take advantage.”

“This doesn’t count as being taken advantage of?” Emiliano shot back.

“Just my waist,” she admitted, trying to downplay it.

Emiliano blurted out, “I haven’t even touched your waist and he went and did it first!”

Amaris stilled at his words, but she was too drained to dig into what he meant.

“Did Noah call you? Did it mess up your dinner meeting?”

Emiliano’s anger flared right back up. “You’d call Noah for help before me? So I’m less than a stranger to you now?”

“No, I—”

“I know you didn’t want this,” Emiliano cut in, his words razor-sharp with frustration. “You think I wanted to marry you?”