CHAPTER 1 — The Rooftop He Wouldn't Let Me Leave
The storm didn't stop after last night.
The rain kept falling, softer this time, like the sky was trying to apologize for witnessing what happened between Alexandre Knight and me on the rooftop. I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard his voice again:
"If you walk away now… I won't be able to let you go."
I shouldn't have heard that.
I shouldn't have felt anything.
He shouldn't have said anything.
But those words wouldn't leave my head.
I dragged myself into the office the next morning, praying the universe would swallow me before I saw him. My chest tightened with every step I took through the grand glass doors of Knight Enterprises.
Everything in this building screamed luxury.
Tall marble pillars.
A chandelier that probably cost more than my life.
Plants that looked so green they had to be fake.
And people who walked like they owned the planet.
I was just the temporary assistant who made coffee and answered long, boring emails.
The girl who wasn't supposed to mean anything.
The girl he wasn't supposed to say those words to.
"Catty!" Mina, one of the secretaries, nearly ran into me. "You're late. Mr. Knight has been looking for you."
Cold swept up my spine. "Looking for me? Why?"
She blinked. "I don't know. But he arrived early. That never happens."
Of course he did.
Because why not destroy my peace at 7:00 a.m.?
I forced a smile and hurried toward the elevator. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. The rooftop… the torn resignation letter… his forehead touching mine… the way he said "falling"—like it was forbidden.
I shouldn't have come today.
The elevator opened to the top floor, and I almost turned back around. His office door was wide open, like the gates of a lion's den.
My heart pounded.
"Come in, Catty."
His voice cut through the hallway.
Of course he knew I was standing there. He always knew.
I stepped inside slowly.
Alexandre Knight sat behind his massive black desk, sleeves rolled up, tie discarded, hair still slightly damp from the rain. He looked like a problem dressed in a tailored shirt—dangerous, intense, impossible to ignore.
His eyes lifted to mine.
Sharp. Focused. Unreadable.
The room felt colder.
"Close the door," he said.
My breath caught, but I obeyed.
He gestured to the seat in front of him. "Sit."
His tone was calm, but something underneath it trembled slightly. Or maybe I imagined that part.
I sat down, gripping my skirt to hide my shaky hands.
Alex leaned back, studying me with those dark eyes that had no business looking that soft.
"Why did you come to resign yesterday?"
I swallowed. "Because I overheard you."
His jaw tightened. "You weren't meant to hear that."
"I know."
"And yet you still tried to leave."
"You told someone to replace me."
His eyes flickered with something—regret? frustration? guilt?
"That wasn't about your performance," he said quietly. "I was… frustrated."
"With me?"
"Yes."
His answer was immediate. Too immediate.
My stomach twisted. "Why? What did I do wrong?"
He leaned forward, his voice low. "You confuse me."
My pulse stumbled.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't involve you in my… distractions."
"Distractions," I repeated, the word bitter in my mouth.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean, Alex?"
He froze.
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
His eyes darkened dangerously.
"Don't call me Alex," he said softly—too softly. "Not when I'm trying to stay away from you."
My breath hitched.
Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, he stood and walked to the window, hands in his pockets. The rain tapped gently against the glass. He looked like a man fighting a war inside himself.
"You're not resigning," he said without turning around.
I frowned. "You can't tell me what to do."
He turned sharply, eyes burning. "I can. And I am."
Heat rushed to my face. "You don't own me."
His expression softened—barely. "I know. That's the problem."
"What?"
He walked slowly toward me, each step heavier than the last. He stopped right in front of me, close enough to touch, close enough to ruin everything.
"Catty," he whispered, "I meant what I said last night."
My breath trembled.
"I don't want you to leave."
I stood up, because sitting felt too vulnerable. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?"
His fingers brushed my wrist—just barely—and I nearly jolted.
"Because you're the only person who looks at me like I'm human," he said quietly. "Not a CEO. Not a billionaire. Just…"
He swallowed.
"Just a man."
His honesty punched the air from my lungs.
This wasn't fair.
He wasn't allowed to say things like that.
Not when he confused me.
Not when he terrified me.
Not when he made my heart feel things it shouldn't.
"A-Alexandre… we can't—"
"I know." He stepped even closer. "Believe me, I know."
His hand came up as if he wanted to touch my cheek, but he stopped himself—fingers hovering, trembling.
"I don't get involved with my employees," he said.
"I don't fall for people who can hurt me."
"I don't let anyone close."
He took a slow breath.
"And yet here you are."
My throat tightened painfully.
I whispered, "You're my boss. This is wrong."
He leaned down, his forehead almost touching mine.
"Then tell me to stop."
My lips parted.
My heart screamed.
My body shook.
But no words came out.
He closed his eyes, exhaling shakily.
"Exactly."
The door suddenly swung open.
I jumped back.
Alex straightened instantly.
Vivian Blake walked in—tall, stunning, and wearing a black designer dress that probably could pay my rent for a year. Her eyes landed on me first, full of disdain, before sliding to Alex.
"I brought the contracts you asked for," she said, her tone sugary but sharp.
Her gaze snapped back to me.
"What is she doing here so early?"
Alex's voice went cold. "She works here."
Vivian's lips curled. "For now."
Before I could speak, Alex moved slightly in front of me—like shielding me.
I froze.
Vivian noticed.
Her smile sharpened like a knife.
"Oh," she murmured. "So that's how it is."
Alex's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't start, Vivian."
She tilted her head. "Don't worry. I won't start."
Her gaze landed on me.
"But she should be careful how close she stands to you."
Then she walked out, heels clicking like a death sentence.
The room fell silent again.
Alex didn't turn toward me.
He spoke in a low, controlled tone:
"Starting today, you're my personal assistant."
My eyes widened. "What? No—"
"It's not negotiable."
"Alexandre—"
He finally looked at me.
"Stay close to me, Catty."
His voice dropped.
"Whether you like it or not… you're already involved."
My heart thrashed.
With him.
With this job.
With this dangerous connection neither of us could name.
And as I walked out of his office, one truth hit me harder than the storm outside:
I should have left yesterday.
Because Alexandre Knight was going to ruin me.
And I wasn't sure if I wanted him to stop.