Aaria adjusted the collar of her blouse for the fourth time, glancing around the sleek conference room. The walls were glass, the view dizzying from the 49th floor. Everything in Viera Industries screamed clinical perfection, like even the air had been handpicked for pedigree.
She hated it already.
Her fellow interns buzzed with a cocktail of nerves and ambition. Some straightened ties; others tapped on iPads like the pressure hadn't gotten under their skin. Aaria stood quietly near the edge of the room, arms folded, her eyes sweeping across the portraits of past CEOs lining the far wall.
Power. Ego. Greed. The holy trinity of corporate gods.
Her lips quirked. If only they knew how unimpressed she truly was.
A sharp chime silenced the room. Everyone straightened. The door opened.
And in walked him.
The man from the elevator.
Aaria felt her spine stiffen.
He didn't glance at anyone. He didn't need to. The oxygen in the room shifted, pulled toward him like he was gravity itself. He walked with the silent assurance of someone used to being watched, feared, obeyed.
Then he spoke.
"Good morning. I'm Rafael Viera. CEO."
Every thought in Aaria's mind stuttered.
No. No, no, no.
The man she'd been sarcastic with—the one she had stepped on—wasn't just some entitled executive. He owned the building. The company. The world she had just stepped into.
Her stomach twisted.
His gaze swept across the room like a blade—until it stopped. On her.
Aaria felt her blood freeze as his eyes met hers again. Dark, unreadable, but distinctly… amused.
"Let's begin with introductions," Rafael said smoothly. "I like to know who's working under me."
Under him.
Her jaw clenched.
One by one, interns began standing and speaking. Their voices faded in her ears, replaced by a growing roar of panic. He hadn't said anything. Hadn't called her out. But the way he looked at her—
It was like she'd already been claimed.
When her turn came, she stood slowly, locking eyes with him.
"Aaria Sen," she said, voice level. "Psych major. Assigned to your administrative team, apparently."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"Apparently," he echoed. "You'll be working closely with my executive office, Ms. Sen."
That wasn't what she was told.
She shot a glance at the HR coordinator at the end of the table, who looked just as confused.
"But—" she began.
"Problem?" Rafael asked softly.
Silence.
"No," she said finally. "No problem."
He smiled then, slow and deliberate. A lion waiting for the cage door to shut behind the lamb.
"Good," he said. "Then let's see how well you follow orders."