POV: Elena
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The glass doors of Wolfe & Co. slid open, and I officially stepped into the life I had only dreamed about.
Monday. First day. No turning back.
The office was stunning—sleek hallways, quiet elegance, everyone in tailored fits that screamed I belong here.
I clutched my welcome packet like it might vanish if I blinked.
"Morning," I offered to a guy by the elevator.
He didn't even glance up from his phone.
So much for friendly coworkers.
But the moment I stepped off the lift onto the 21st floor, I saw him.
Zayden.
Leaning against a desk, shirt tucked, sleeves rolled again, like he lived in that perfect balance of chaos and control.
But something shifted. His expression—relaxed just seconds ago—went hard.
A junior employee walked up to him. "Sir, the marketing files from the Tokyo branch—"
"I said I'd review them later," Zayden said, voice clipped. "If it's urgent, email. If not, don't waste time standing here."
The guy nodded quickly and backed off.
Okay… cold.
But then Zayden saw me.
And like a switch, his eyes softened. His jaw unclenched. His voice lowered.
"Elena." He stepped toward me, his tone completely different. "You found your way."
"You gave me a map," I said, grinning.
He almost smiled back—but someone called his name, and just like that, the warmth vanished.
He turned. "Yes?" Flat. Dismissive. Ice in a three-piece suit.
People looked nervous around him. And confused when he didn't treat me the same.
---
Later that day, I was called to his office for some paperwork.
His actual office. Floor-to-ceiling windows, moody lighting, minimalistic décor. It looked like the backdrop of a CEO magazine shoot.
Zayden stood by the window, back to me.
"You always this intimidating?" I asked, half-joking.
"Only when I have to be," he said, turning with a faint smile. "Sit."
I did, but the silence lingered a bit too long.
He handed me a folder, then leaned on the edge of his desk, watching me skim it.
That's when it slipped out.
"So…" I said, not looking up. "Is it just a wild coincidence your surname is Wolfe? Like the company?"
He stilled.
Then exhaled through his nose, cool and unreadable.
"You googled me?"
"No. I connected dots," I said, glancing up. "Zayden Wolfe. Wolfe & Co. Just seems… aligned."
A pause.
Then he smirked, leaning just a little closer.
"What, you think I named a whole company after myself just to impress new hires on flights?"
I raised a brow. "So you admit it's yours?"
"I said no such thing." His voice dropped slightly. "I run the marketing department. That's what matters to you."
But he wasn't joking anymore.
His tone was careful. Like there was more he wanted to say—but wouldn't.
I stood, tucking the folder into my tote. But I stopped halfway to the door.
"I just thought…" I said quietly, "if you were the guy at the top… you'd be one of the good ones."
He looked at me then. Really looked.
His voice softened again. Barely above a whisper.
"Elena?"
"Yeah?"
"If I ever became that guy… I'd only want to be good for you."
The air between us felt heavier than it should've.
And before I could say anything, the door opened—an assistant poked in, red-faced and rushing. "S-sorry! Didn't know you were with someone, Mr. Wolfe—uh—Zayden."
I blinked.
So did he.
But he didn't correct her.
He didn't say a word.