The elevator climbs to the forty-second floor, and Cara's reflection stares back at her from the polished steel doors. She smooths her navy blazer for the third time, checking that every strand of her dark hair is still pinned in place.
“You've got this,” she tells herself.
The Ashford Corporation logo looms across the glass walls as the doors slide open. She's heard the rumors prestigious company, ruthless management, a CEO who's young, brilliant, and impossible to work for. Three personal assistants have quit in the last year.
Cara needs this job. Her student loans aren't going to pay themselves, and the marketing firm that laid her off last month didn't leave her much of a safety net.
"Cara Sullivan?"
A woman with sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes looks up from the reception desk. Her nameplate reads “Margaret Executive Assistant to CEO Darius Ashford.”
"That's me," Cara says, extending her hand.
Margaret doesn't shake it. She simply gestures down the hallway. "He's ready. Corner office. Don't be late."
“He's already intimidating and I haven't even met him yet.”
The hallway seems to stretch for miles. Floor to ceiling windows overlook the city, but Cara's eyes are fixed on the door at the end the one with his name etched in sleek silver letters: Darius Ashford, CEO.
She takes a breath and knocks.
"Come in."
His voice is low. Commanding. Something in it makes her skin prickle.
Cara opens the door and freezes.
The man behind the desk is nothing like she expected. He's younger than she imagined probably early thirties with sharp features and dark hair that's just long enough to be unprofessional. His suit is tailored so perfectly it seems to be part of him. But it's his eyes that stop her cold. They're a strange amber-gold, fixed on her with an intensity that feels like he's looking through her rather than at her.
There's something off about him. Something primal that makes every instinct in her body scream to run.
Or maybe not run.
"Ms. Sullivan." He doesn't stand. He simply leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Tell me why I should hire you."
Cara's carefully prepared answer dies in her throat. Up close, she can smell him something dark and woodsy that doesn't match the sleek glass and steel of his office. Her pulse quickens.
"Because I'm reliable," she finally manages. "Organized. I learn fast, and I don't quit when things get difficult."
A muscle twitches in his jaw. His eyes those impossible eyes track her as she walks to the chair across from his desk. She sits, refusing to let him see how rattled she is.
"The last three didn't quit because things got difficult," he says, his voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. "They quit because they couldn't handle working for someone with standards."
"Then it's a good thing I have standards too."
Something flickers across his face. Surprise? Amusement? It's gone before she can name it.
"You're bold. I'll give you that." He picks up her resume, though his eyes never leave hers. "Your last employer said you were 'competent but forgettable.'"
The words sting, but Cara lifts her chin. "Your last three assistants said you were impossible. Guess we're both full of surprises."
The corner of his mouth twitches. For a moment, the tension shifts. It's still electric, still overwhelming, but it's different now. Charged with something else entirely.
"When can you start?" he asks.
"I... that's it? No other questions?"
"I hire based on instinct, Ms. Sullivan. And my instincts are rarely wrong." He sets down her resume and leans forward slightly. "Monday. Eight a.m. Don't be late."
Cara's heart hammers against her ribs as she stands. "I won't disappoint you."
"See that you don't."
She turns to leave, but his voice stops her.
"Cara."
It's the first time he's used her first name, and hearing it in that dark, controlled voice does something to her insides. She looks back.
He's watching her with those amber eyes, and for a second just a second they seem to glow. Like an animal's eyes caught in headlights.
"Welcome to Ashford."
That night, Cara lies in bed replaying the interview over and over. She tells herself it was just a job interview. Just a man with an intense personality and interesting eyes.
But she can't shake the feeling that something fundamental shifted the moment she walked into that office.
Something that will change everything.
And deep in her bones, in a place she doesn't understand, her body seems to recognize him as something other. Something dangerous.
Something she shouldn't want.
But already does.
