The first time I walked into the mirrored lobby of TitanLux Enterprises, I knew I was out of my league.
The floor was Italian marble, polished until it reflected my every nervous step. Art deco chandeliers dangled from thirty-foot ceilings. Everything screamed money. Power. Intimidation.
I clutched my resume like it was a shield.
"Naomi Blake?" a receptionist chirped, eyeing my discount heels with a tight smile. "You're five minutes early. Mr. Westwood values punctuality. This will be noted."
Noted? What was this, a military operation?
Still, I nodded and sat quietly, ignoring the tremble in my fingers. I had planned for this. Rehearsed every answer. I was ready. Almost.
Until I saw him.
He walked out of the elevator like he owned the air. Tall, broad-shouldered, all sharp lines and sharper silence. Dark suit. No tie. Wristwatch that probably cost more than my rent for the year. And those eyes—obsidian, calculating, impossible.
Damian Westwood.
My maybe-future-boss. My soon-to-be undoing.
He didn't look at me at first. Just passed with a nod to the receptionist. But then, just before he vanished into the glass conference room, he turned. Locked eyes with me. A second. Maybe two. Long enough for something to crackle in the air. Electricity? Recognition? I didn't know.
Then he was gone. And I could finally breathe again.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting across from him, sweating beneath his stare.
"Miss Blake," he said, voice like velvet and frost, "You worked for Hudson Events?"
"Yes," I replied. "For three years. I planned five luxury galas, two destination weddings, and a fundraiser for the mayor's re-election."
He flipped a page on my resume. "Then you quit."
"I… wanted more creative control."
He glanced up, his gaze piercing. "Or did you just hate taking orders?"
I blinked. "I… no, sir. I work well with authority."
"Good." He leaned back. "Because I don't like to repeat myself. My schedule is insane, and my expectations are unreasonable. I work late, I travel without notice, and I trust no one. Still interested?"
I hesitated. Then lifted my chin. "Yes."
He studied me. Silent. That silence stretched until I thought I'd suffocate in it.
Then he stood.
"You start Monday."