The contract in Amelia's hands felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was the weight of the paper, or maybe it was the weight of her entire life tilting on its axis.
Nathaniel Black watched her with the same stillness a predator uses when deciding whether to pounce.
"Read it," he said.
His office was enormous, glass walls revealing the skyline like a kingdom only he had the keys to. Amelia sank into the chair opposite his desk, Liam curling into her side, thumb in his mouth. She smoothed the contract open with shaking fingers.
Temporary Position: Executive Liaison
Duration: 90 days
Compensation: Significantly higher than her current salary
Hours: Undefined
Responsibilities: To be assigned directly by the CEO
Additional Clause: Confidentiality. Non-negotiable.
Her mouth went dry. "Executive liaison? I'm an entry-level accountant."
"You're whatever I require you to be," Nathaniel said, leaning back with cold precision. "Right now, I require someone who can convincingly explain why a woman and her child were trapped in my private elevator without damaging my reputation."
She looked up sharply. "You want me to… spin it?"
"I want you to prevent gossip from becoming scandal," he said. "Every major outlet already has the footage. The longer it circulates without context, the more control I lose."
Amelia closed her eyes briefly. She could already imagine the headlines:
CEO's Secret Family?
Mystery Woman and Child Burst from Black Enterprises Elevator
She wasn't just a hiccup in his day. She was ammunition aimed at his empire.
Her voice trembled. "I have a son. I can't stay late every night. I can't travel. I—I barely have anyone to help me."
"Then you will learn," he replied, unbothered. "I'm not responsible for your personal circumstances."
Liam shifted, staring up at Nathaniel with wide, curious eyes. "Are you mad at Mommy?"
Nathaniel paused—not frozen, not softened, but recalculating. "I'm… addressing a situation."
"That means yes," Liam said helpfully.
To Amelia's utter horror, Nathaniel's expression twitched. Not a smile. Something more dangerous: a crack.
"Liam," she whispered, "please don't talk right now."
The boy nodded and tucked his dinosaur under his arm, as if it needed protection from the CEO.
Amelia took a breath and forced herself to stand. Her hands trembled, but her spine straightened. "I didn't ask to be in this situation. I didn't want attention. I don't want trouble. I just need my job."
Nathaniel's gaze sharpened—a blade catching light.
"That's precisely why you're going to sign." He stepped closer, standing over her in a way that made the air tighten. "Stability requires sacrifice. And you're not the only one who has something to lose."
She met his eyes. For the first time, she saw something behind the frost. Not warmth. Something older, heavier. Pressure. Responsibility. The kind that shapes a man into steel.
He didn't blink.
"You will begin immediately," he added. "A press statement, drafted tonight. A narrative that removes doubt. You will report directly to me every morning, no later than six."
"Six?" she choked.
"You work for me now," he said simply.
Her heart thudded painfully. She stared down at the contract again. Ninety days. Enough money to catch up on rent. Enough money to keep her son in school. Enough money to breathe.
But it also meant being under his gaze every day—this man who could ruin her with a single sentence.
Her fingers tightened around the pen.
Liam tugged her sleeve again. "Mommy? Are we gonna live here now?"
Nathaniel's brow arched ever so slightly. Amelia could feel heat crawl up her neck.
She bent down to her son. "No, baby. Mommy's just working."
"But he sounds like he's your boss-boss," Liam whispered loudly.
Nathaniel inhaled slowly, as though wrestling with some private reaction.
"Sign, Miss Clarke."
The room felt too bright, too quiet, too charged.
Amelia pressed the pen to the page.
Just as she finished the last stroke of her signature, the office door opened abruptly. A woman in a fitted gray dress stepped inside—sleek hair, perfect posture, expression tight with disapproval.
"Mr. Black," she said. "The photographers are waiting. They want a statement from you regarding the… disruption."
Her eyes flicked to Amelia with the kind of disdain reserved for stains or inconveniences.
Nathaniel's tone turned glacial. "There will be no statement from me. Miss Clarke will prepare the official response."
The woman blinked, startled. "Her?"
"She now works directly under me," he said. "For the next ninety days."
The woman's mouth tightened, but she bowed her head. "Understood."
Nathaniel glanced back at Amelia, gaze unreadable.
"Welcome to your new position," he said. "And Miss Clarke… pray you don't fail."