I shouldn't have been thinking about him. But I was. And it was irritating.

"Are you even listening to me?" Lila's voice cut through my thoughts, sharp enough to pull me back.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring at nothing for the past few seconds. "Hmm?" I said, picking up my cup of coffee like I had been fully present the whole time.

She narrowed her eyes at me from across the small table. "Wow. You're gone."

"I'm not gone."

"You are. And I know exactly why."

I took a slow sip, avoiding her gaze. "You don't."

"Ethan Blackwood."

I almost choked.

Lila leaned back, folding her arms with satisfaction. "I knew it."

"I am not thinking about him," I said quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

She raised a brow. "You just reacted like someone said your full government name in public."

I exhaled, setting the cup down. "It was one conversation."

"It was not just one conversation," she said. "You rejected him."

"Yes."

"You rejected Ethan Blackwood."

"I heard you the first time."

She shook her head slowly, like she still couldn't believe it. "Do you even understand what you did?"

"Yes," I said, my voice calm. "I said no to a man I don't know."

"You said no to a man who's not used to hearing it."

"That's not my problem."

Lila leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. "Men like him don't forget things like that."

Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten just a little, but I pushed the feeling away.

"He'll forget," I said. "He has better things to do."

Lila didn't look convinced, but she didn't push further.

Instead, she changed direction. "So," she said, tapping her fingers lightly against the table, "are you going to tell me what's actually going on with you?"

I frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she gestured at me, "you don't just randomly show up at high-profile events, reject billionaires, and then act like everything is normal."

I sighed. She wasn't wrong.

"Nothing is going on," I said at first.

She didn't respond. Just stared at me. Waiting.

I looked away, then back at her. "Okay... something is going on."

"Obviously."

I hesitated for a second, then reached into my bag and pulled out the envelope.

Her eyes immediately lit up. "What is that?"

I slid it across the table. "Open it."

She didn't waste time. The moment she saw the letter inside, her expression shifted from curiosity to shock.

"Ava..." she breathed. "Is this real?"

"Yes."

"You got it?"

"Yes."

She looked up at me, eyes wide. "You got the job?"

I nodded slowly.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then-

"Oh my God," Lila said, nearly jumping out of her seat. "Ava, this is huge!"

I couldn't help the small smile that formed on my lips. "I know."

This wasn't just any job. This was everything. An opportunity I had been working toward for years. The kind of opportunity that could change everything about my life.

No more struggling. No more barely making ends meet. No more wondering if I was ever going to move forward.

"This is insane," Lila continued. "Do you even realize what company this is?"

"Yes," I said, my smile fading just slightly. "I do."

Because that was the part I hadn't fully processed yet. The name at the top of the letter wasn't small. It wasn't just any company. It was one of the most powerful corporate groups in the city.

Whitmore.

My fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the table.

"I start tomorrow," I added.

"Tomorrow?" Lila's eyes widened again. "That's fast."

"I know."

"Are you ready?"

I paused. That was a good question. Was I ready?

I had wanted this for so long. Worked for it. Pushed myself for it. So why did something feel... off?

"I have to be," I said finally, because this wasn't optional. This was necessary.

The building was even more intimidating in daylight. Tall. Glass. Impossibly sleek. The kind of place that made you feel small before you even walked inside.

I stood across the street for a moment, staring at it. This is it. Everything starts here.

I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and took a breath, then stepped forward.

Inside, everything was polished, controlled, efficient. People moved with purpose, like they had somewhere important to be at all times.

I walked up to the front desk, trying to keep my nerves from showing. "Good morning," I said.

The receptionist smiled professionally. "Name?"

"Ava."

She typed something quickly, then nodded. "Welcome. You're expected."

That did nothing to calm my nerves.

"Take the elevator to the top floor," she added. "Someone will meet you there."

Top floor. Of course.

I nodded and turned, stepping into the elevator. As the doors closed, my reflection stared back at me-calm, composed, but my heart was beating faster than it should.

This was it. No turning back now.

The elevator doors opened, and the space was quieter up here, more... controlled. Like even the air behaved differently.

A man approached me almost immediately. Sharp suit. Sharp eyes. Observant.

"You're Ava," he said. Not a question.

"Yes."

"I'm Adrian."

His tone was neutral, but there was something about the way he looked at me-like he was already assessing, already forming conclusions.

"Follow me."

I did, down a hallway that felt too quiet, too important, until we stopped in front of a door.

Adrian turned to me. "He's expecting you."

Something about that sentence made my stomach tighten. "He?" I asked.

But Adrian had already opened the door. "Go in."

I hesitated for half a second, then stepped inside.

And froze.

Because sitting behind the desk-calm, composed, watching me like he had been waiting-was Ethan Blackwood.

My boss.

My breath caught.

And the worst part? The look in his eyes said this wasn't a coincidence. Not even close.

For a moment, I couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't even breathe properly.

Ethan Blackwood sat behind the desk like he had always belonged there, like this-me standing in front of him, caught off guard-was exactly how he planned it. Because of course it was.

Men like him didn't deal in coincidence. They dealt in control. And right now, I had none.

"You're late."

His voice was calm. Smooth. Controlled. Like yesterday never happened. Like he hadn't looked at me with that same intensity just hours ago.

I blinked, forcing myself to recover. "I was told to come up."

"You were expected earlier."

That subtle pressure again. Not loud. Not aggressive. But enough to make you feel like you were already behind.

I straightened slightly. "Then someone should have communicated that better."

A pause. Small, but noticeable. Most people would have apologized. Adjusted. Folded. I didn't.

Something flickered in his eyes. Not irritation. Interest. Again.

"You're confident," he said.

"I'm prepared."

"Are you?"

His gaze held mine, steady and searching, like he was trying to see past what I was saying into what I actually meant. I refused to look away.

"Yes."

Another pause. Longer this time. Then-

"Sit."

I hesitated for a second. Not because I didn't understand, but because of how he said it. Not a request. A command. And I hated how easily it made something in me react.

Still, I moved forward and sat across from him, placing my bag neatly beside my chair to keep my hands from fidgeting.

Silence stretched between us. Not empty. Heavy. Deliberate.

He leaned back slightly, studying me in a way that felt far too personal for a first day. "You didn't seem impressed last night," he said.

There it was. So we weren't ignoring it.

"Was I supposed to be?" I asked.

"Most people are."

"I'm not most people."

A faint shift in his expression. Not quite a smile, but close. "I've noticed."

My chest tightened slightly. Not fear. Something else. Something I didn't want to name.

"This is a professional environment," I said, choosing my words carefully. "If there's something specific you expect from me, I'd prefer we focus on that."

For a brief second, he didn't respond. Just watched me. And somehow, that felt worse than anything he could have said.

"You're here because you earned it," he said finally.

Relief flickered. Small. Quick. Then-

"But don't mistake that for security."

And just like that, gone.

"I'm not," I replied.

"Good."

His tone didn't soften. Didn't shift. If anything, it became more precise. "This position is competitive. Demanding. Mistakes aren't tolerated."

"I don't plan on making any."

"You will."

The certainty in his voice caught me off guard.

"And when you do," he continued, "what matters is how you handle it."

I held his gaze. "I handle things well."

"I'm aware."

That made me pause. "What does that mean?"

Another beat of silence. Then-

"It means I pay attention."

Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist, because it didn't sound like he was talking about work. Not entirely.

I shifted slightly in my seat, grounding myself. "Is there anything else?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

"Yes."

He leaned forward just enough to close the distance between us. Not physically, but in presence.

"In this office," he said quietly, "you follow my lead."

There it was. The power. Clear. Undeniable. I felt it settle between us like something solid. Real.

"And if I don't?" I asked before I could stop myself.

The question hung in the air. Bold. Dangerous.

For a moment, nothing. Then-

His gaze darkened slightly. Not anger. Something sharper. More controlled.

"Then you won't last here."

Simple. Direct. Final. A warning.

I should have backed down. Should have nodded. Agreed. Played it safe. But instead-

"I didn't come here to be controlled," I said.

The words left my mouth before I could pull them back.

Silence. Thick. Heavy. Charged.

For a second, I thought I had crossed a line I couldn't come back from. Then something unexpected happened.

He didn't get angry. Didn't shut me down. Instead, he looked at me like I had just confirmed something. Like I had just proven a point he was already making in his head.

"That's exactly why you're here," he said quietly.

My breath caught. "What?"

"You don't bend easily," he continued. "That can be useful."

Useful. Not admirable. Not respected. Useful. I didn't know if I liked that.

"I'm not here to be useful," I said. "I'm here to work."

"You're here because I allowed it."

The words hit harder than they should have, because they carried weight. Authority. Truth I couldn't fully deny.

I felt something shift inside me. Not fear. Resistance.

"I earned this," I said, my voice steady despite the tension rising in my chest.

His gaze didn't waver. "Did you?"

The question wasn't loud, but it cut deeper than anything else he had said. And for the first time, I didn't have an immediate answer.

Silence stretched again. Longer. He let it. Watched me sit in it.

Then, just when it became unbearable, he leaned back, breaking the moment. "Adrian will brief you," he said, his tone returning to neutral like nothing had just happened.

Conversation over. Just like that.

I stood slowly, gathering my bag, trying to ignore the way my pulse was still uneven. "Understood," I said.

I turned toward the door, hand on the handle, ready to leave. To breathe again.

Then-

"Ava."

I froze. Of course he would do that. Make me stop. Make me turn.

Slowly, I looked back.

He was watching me again. Not like before. This time, more certain. More focused.

"Rejecting me was a bold move," he said.

My chest tightened. "And?"

A slight pause. Then-

"Let's see how long that confidence lasts."

Something in my stomach dropped. Not because I was scared, but because I understood exactly what that meant.

This wasn't over. It hadn't even started.

And somehow, I had just walked straight into a situation where the man I rejected now held all the power.

And he wasn't going to let me forget it.