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MIA POV

I step into the sleek glass tower of Vaughn Enterprises, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Five years should have been enough time to forget. It wasn’t.

The elevator ride to the top floor feels like climbing into enemy territory. When the doors open, a polished receptionist smiles at me. “Miss Thompson? Mr. Vaughn is expecting you.”

Of course he is.

I follow her down the hallway, stomach twisting tighter with every step. When she opens the heavy oak door, I see him.

Ryder Vaughn.

No longer the arrogant hockey captain in a letterman jacket. Now he sits behind a massive desk in a tailored black suit that costs more than my yearly rent. His dark hair is styled, jaw sharper, shoulders broader. The boy has become a man who looks like he owns the world. CEO at twenty-three. Billion-dollar tech and entertainment empire.

His icy blue eyes lift and lock on mine. For one heartbeat, something flickers across his face—surprise, then that same predatory intensity I remember too well.

“Mia,” he says, voice deeper, smoother. He stands, towering over the desk. “You came.”

“I came for the interview,” I correct coldly, keeping my tone flat. “Not for a reunion.”

He gestures to the leather chair opposite him. “Sit.”

I remain standing. “I prefer to stand.”

A ghost of that annoying smirk appears. “Still stubborn. Some things never change.”

“You would know.”

He rounds the desk and leans against it, crossing his arms. The move brings him closer than I like. He smells the same—ice and expensive cologne. It makes my skin crawl and my pulse race at the same time.

“I saw your resume,” he says. “Impressive. Graduated top of your class, three years at Sterling Marketing, excellent references. You’re overqualified for an executive assistant position, but I want the best.”

I lift my chin. “Why me?”

“Because you’re smart, organized, and I trust you won’t leak company secrets.” His gaze drops to my mouth for a fraction of a second before returning to my eyes. “And because I need someone who isn’t afraid to push back.”

“Push back?” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Is that what you call what you did to me in high school? Pushing back?”

His jaw tightens. “Mia—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re old friends. You made my life hell. You humiliated me in front of the entire school. You read my private thoughts out loud like they were jokes. You made me cry so hard my family decided to move across the country to get me away from you.”

The words pour out, five years of suppressed rage finally breaking free.

“I left town because of you, Ryder. I had nightmares for months. Every time someone laughed in the hallway, I thought they were laughing at the pathetic virgin who wrote dirty fantasies about the school bully.”

He flinches. Actually flinches. Good.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I was a piece of shit back then. I’ve thought about it every single day since you left.”

“Bullshit.” My voice rises. “If you felt even a fraction of guilt, you wouldn’t have tracked me down and offered me this job.”

“I didn’t track you down for old times’ sake.” He pushes off the desk and steps closer. “I offered it because you’re the right person. The salary is triple what you’re making now—your current yearly salary as your monthly pay. Benefits, stock options, apartment covered in the city. You’d be set for life.”

I stare at him, stunned for a moment by the number. It’s insane money. Life-changing money. The kind that would let me pay off my mother’s medical bills and finally breathe.

But looking at his face—the same face that mocked me while I cried on the school floor—makes my blood boil.

“No.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I said no.” I step forward until we’re almost toe to toe. “You think you can wave obscene money at me and I’ll forget everything? That I’ll happily become your little assistant, fetching your coffee and organizing your schedule while you play king of the corporate world?”

His eyes darken. “It’s a legitimate offer, Mia. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” I laugh bitterly. “With you, there’s always more. You haven’t changed. You’re still the same arrogant asshole who gets off on making me feel small.”

“I have changed,” he says, voice low and rough. “But clearly you haven’t forgiven me. That’s fine. I don’t expect forgiveness. I expect professionalism. Take the job. Hate me all you want, but use the money to build the life you deserve.”

For one dangerous second, I waver. The salary is ridiculous. My current job barely covers rent and my mom’s treatments. This could change everything.

Then I remember kneeling on the cold hallway floor, pages of my diary scattered around me while he crouched beside me and whispered cruel things. I remember the laughter. The whispers that followed me for months.

Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him. Never again.

“I would rather starve than work for you,” I say, each word sharp as glass. “Keep your tripled salary. Keep your empire. I don’t want anything from you, Ryder Vaughn. Not now. Not ever.”

I turn toward the door, heart pounding so hard I feel sick.

“Mia, wait.”

His voice stops me, softer than I’ve ever heard it. Almost broken.

“I was crazy about you back then,” he admits. “Too fucked up to handle it. I embarrassed you because I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that you saw me—really saw me—in those pages. I went overboard. I know I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I look back at him one last time. The powerful CEO looks strangely lost behind his expensive suit.

“Too little, too late,” I whisper. “Some things can’t be fixed with money or apologies.”

I walk out without another word, leaving Ryder standing alone in his glass tower.

My hands shake the entire elevator ride down. Tears finally spill over once I reach the busy sidewalk.

I hate him.

I hate him so much that even his apology feels like another game.