The first rule of Blackwood Enterprises was simple:
Don't speak unless spoken to.
I learned that within ten minutes of stepping into the glass tower that pierced the city skyline like a blade.
I wasn't supposed to be here. Not on the top floor. Not in this office where the air felt heavier and every sound echoed like a warning.
I clutched the file in my hands. The HR assistant had rushed me through the paperwork, barely looking at my face.
"Sign here. And here," she'd said. "The CEO is waiting."
CEO.
The word alone should've sent me running.
The door opened silently.
He stood by the window, his back to me, city lights reflecting off the glass and outlining his broad shoulders. Tailored suit. Perfect posture. A man carved out of control.
"You're late," he said.
His voice was calm—
"I'm sorry," I replied instinctively.
He turned.
And I forgot how to breathe.
Adrian Blackwood didn't look like the ruthless billionaire the internet warned about. He looked worse. Handsome in a way that felt dangerous. Cold eyes. Sharp jaw. The kind of man who didn't raise his voice because he never had to.
"Sit," he ordered.
I obeyed.
His gaze dropped to the papers in my hands. "You read the contract?"
"Yes," I lied.
He reached out. Long fingers. Confident. He took the file and flipped to the last page.
"Sign."
A faint smile touched his lips. Not kind. Not amused.
I hesitated for half a second too long.
His eyes lifted to mine, and suddenly I felt exposed—like he could see the unpaid bills, the eviction notice, my mother's medical reports folded and hidden in my bag.
"You need this job," he said quietly.
It wasn't a question.
I nodded.
"Then sign."
The pen felt heavy in my fingers. I scribbled my name, my heart pounding louder with each stroke.
The moment I finished, he closed the file.
"Congratulations," Adrian Blackwood said. "You now belong to Blackwood Enterprises."
My stomach dropped.
"Belong?" I whispered.
He stood, walking toward me slowly. Each step deliberate.
"This isn't a normal position," he said. "You be my personal assistant. Exclusive. Confidential. On-call.
"There are many things you don't know yet," he replied, stopping far too close.
His gaze darkened.
"But you will learn."
And just like that, I realized I hadn't signed an employment contract.
I had signed my freedom away.