I seriously considered turning around and walking out.
Pride warred with practicality. Pride said: Don't give this arrogant bastard the satisfaction. Practicality said: You're broke, homeless, and your ex is probably still in your bed with your cousin.
Practicality won. Barely.
"Miss Cruz, please have a seat." Helen gestured to one of the chairs facing the desk, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
I sat, spine rigid, meeting Radeus's gaze with as much dignity as I could muster. He looked even more imposing here, in his domain, backlit by the Manila skyline. Power radiated from him like heat from asphalt.
"Mr. Villafuerte, this is Amara Cruz. She's applied for the executive secretary position." Helen placed my resume on his desk. "Miss Cruz has three years of administrative experience, excellent references, and—"
"I'll take it from here, Helen. Thank you."
It wasn't a request. Helen gave me an encouraging smile and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Silence stretched between us.
Radeus picked up my resume, his dark eyes scanning the single page with an intensity that made me want to squirm. I forced myself to stay still.
"Three years at Mercado & Associates," he read aloud. "Executive assistant to the managing partner. Glowing recommendation letter." He looked up. "So why are you leaving?"
"I need a change."
"Try again."
"Excuse me?"
"That's a non-answer. Politicians give non-answers. I don't hire politicians." He set the resume down.
"Why are you really leaving? And don't say 'seeking new challenges' or 'looking for growth opportunities.' I've heard every corporate cliché in existence."
I gritted my teeth. "The company is downsizing. My position was eliminated."
"Lie." He said it so matter-of-factly, I almost gasped.
"Mercado & Associates just landed the Alvarez account. They're expanding, not downsizing. I know this because I golf with Ricardo Mercado twice a month."
Of course he did.
"Fine. I quit."
"Better. Why?"
"That's personal."
"Everything about working for me is personal, Miss Cruz. I don't operate on a nine-to-five schedule. I don't respect boundaries between professional and private life—at least not when it comes to my time. If you work for me, you need to be available. Always." He leaned forward.
"So I'll ask one more time. Why did you quit your last job?"
The morning's humiliation came rushing back. Marco's betrayal. The apartment I could no longer afford alone. The desperate scramble to find new employment before my savings ran out.
"My personal life imploded," I said flatly. "I needed to start fresh. Somewhere with no connections to my previous life. Is that honest enough for you?"
Something flickered in his expression—too quick to name.
"The boyfriend from the elevator?"
"Ex-boyfriend. As of this morning."
"And you thought a job interview was the best way to process that?"
"I thought paying my rent was more important than processing my feelings."
For the first time, his smirk softened into something that might have been respect. Might have been.
"Fair enough." He stood, moving to the windows.
"Here's how this works. My secretary manages my schedule, which changes constantly. You'll coordinate with my driver, my security team, my lawyers, my accountants, and occasionally my family—though I try to avoid that last one."
"Sounds manageable."
"I'm not finished." He didn't turn around.
"You'll also handle my personal appointments. Dinner reservations. Dry cleaning. Gifts for business associates and..." he paused, "...other acquaintances."
"Other acquaintances?"
"Women I see socially."
Oh. Oh.
"You want me to buy gifts for your girlfriends?"
"I don't have girlfriends. I have companions. And yes, you'll manage that aspect of my life too." Now he did turn, his expression unreadable.
"Problem?"
Yes. Multiple problems. This was possibly the most degrading job description I'd ever heard.
But the salary Helen had mentioned flashed through my mind. Three times what I'd made at Mercado & Associates.
"No problem."
"Good. Because here's the most important rule." His eyes locked onto mine. "I don't sleep with my employees. Ever. I don't blur professional lines, I don't engage in office romances, and I certainly don't get involved with my secretary. Are we clear?"
"Crystal clear"
"Excellent. Because you're not my type anyway."
The words shouldn't have stung. They were probably meant to be reassuring—a clear boundary, professionally appropriate.
But they stung anyway.
I stood, matching his posture. "For the record, Mr. Villafuerte, you're not my type either. I don't date arrogant, condescending men who treat women like interchangeable accessories."
"Then we'll get along perfectly." He moved back to his desk, already dismissing me. "You start Monday. Seven AM sharp. Helen will handle the paperwork."
I blinked. "Wait—I got the job?"
"Against my better judgment, yes. You're clearly going through something, you have a mouth on you, and you insulted me twice in one day." He finally looked up, and that smirk was back. "But you didn't cry just now, even when I was deliberately harsh. You didn't flirt or try to impress me. And you're honest to the point of stupidity."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation. Don't be late Monday."
I grabbed my bag, heading for the door.
"Miss Cruz?"
I paused, looking back.
"For what it's worth," Radeus said, his voice surprisingly gentle, "your ex-boyfriend is an idiot. But you probably shouldn't start your new job by having emotional breakdowns in company elevators."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "Noted."
"And Miss Cruz? All men aren't the same." His expression hardened. "Some of us are honest about being bastards."
I left Villafuerte Enterprises in a daze.
I'd gotten the job. I'd actually gotten the job.
Working for possibly the most arrogant, infuriating, gorgeous man I'd ever met.
A man who'd already made it clear I was beneath his notice. Not his type. Just another employee.
Which was fine. Perfect, actually.
Because after Marco's betrayal, the last thing I needed was another man breaking my heart.
Even if Radeus Xavien Villafuerte looked like sin personified and had somehow managed to make me feel seen—really seen—for the first time in years.
Nope. Not going there.
This was just a job. He was just my boss.
And I was definitely, absolutely, certainly not going to fall for him.
Definitely not.