Chapter 2

Aurelie Tess Blackwood. 

I was indeed nervous.

My hands wouldn't stop moving. They clutched at the strap of my bag, fingers curling and uncurling against the leather in a mindless rhythm of uncertainty.

Then they flew to my hair, tucking the same strand behind my ear as I did six times before.

I pressed my palms against my skirt to smoothen out rumples that weren't there, then immediately second-guessed my entire outfit.

I swallowed hard, once, twice, again, trying to force down the anxious lump forming in my throat.

The weight of the memory from two nights ago hit me all at once. That stranger, the way he held me like I actually mattered, only to walk away like I was nothing.

The humiliation of it all burned hot in my cheeks now. But, I shook my head sharply, trying to derail my thought from that path.

 “Not now. Not here.” I murmured to myself.

Because if I thought about that one stranger even for a second longer, I’d lose myself in the hurt again and forget the sole reason why I was standing here right now.

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, using the sharp pain to anchor myself back to reality.

As I stood in front of Reynor Corporations, my eyes widened at the tower that would soon become my daily habitat.

The 100-foot giant almost pierced through the clouds. Each slab of glass reflected the sky itself, making it difficult to tell where the building ended and the heavens began. Metal frames outlined the glass slabs in sharp angles, portraying a perfect blend of ambition and architecture that felt both beautiful and intimidating.

The air felt still.

People moved with robotic precision, their faces as expressionless and moody as their outfits. Each step calculated with purpose, like they’d all been programmed to blend in.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a poised woman with a calculated smile. “Hi, I’m Elena, Personal Assistant to the CEO. You must be Aurélie, the new secretary.”

“Yes...Yes I am.” I breathed out, grateful for the recognition. I shook her hand, and held on for a second longer than I had to. Something about her seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put my hands on what it was, so I let it go.

 The elevator opened with a muted chime.

“Aurélie, you’re expected to be composed. Be confident. And mostly, do not disappoint him.” She said, her voice a but too controlled. “You do not want to get fired on the first week, do you?”

“No ma’am.” I said, a bit too fast. Sure.

“Then earn it. I hired you because I particularly liked your resume. Do not let me down.”

I fixed my foot properly on my heels with the sole effort to not fall from my anxiety. I tucked my hair again behind my ears for the millionth time and smoothened out my blouse.

“This floor is oddly empty, Why?” I asked, particularly curious.

“This floor was reserved for the CEO only, until they had to move the Sales and Marketing team up here.” She said. “So no, it’s not empty, we just haven’t reached yet.”

“There.” She pointed out. “The sales and marketing team.”

I looked through the glass frame to see a bunch of employees operating so quietly, you could swear that no one even breathed there. They were well over 50 people, working in their respective space, each section divided by a transparent glass slab.

I quickly fixed my posture.

We approached a sleek mahogany door with “CEO” written on it in bold, gold letters. She paused, her gaze drifting over me like she was weighing my competence from my posture. “You ready for this?” she asked, her tone laced with a hint of curiosity.

“Yes.” I said it more to myself than to her. Inhaled once more before fixing myself.

You can do this.

“Go on.” She gestured for me to enter, her eyes still roving over me like I was a puzzle she was trying to piece together. I took a step forward as she turned and left.

And just like that, I was alone.

I gripped the doors handle, telling myself that I was ready for the big reveal, but then my knees froze again. “Shit.”

Why was I hesitating? I shouldn’t hesitate? I should be confident. Daring. Professional.

I got this job. Me.

Fuck it.

I pushed the door open, took that bold step inside and their he was.

He stood tall in front of the floor to ceiling window, the morning sun casting a powerful shadow beside him. A glass dangled casually from his hand as he looked down on the city like he owned it.

I let my eyes roam further, noticing the strong lines of his forearms, the subtle curve of his muscles and the expensive wristwatch that clung perfectly to his wrist.

I studied the breadth of his broad back long enough to know it commanded authority without asking for it.

He was perfect...perfect in a way that seemed oddly familiar.

No matter how much I tried to shake it off, something felt...off? I didn’t know what it was for sure so I just let it rest.

I didn’t know whether to speak, greet or just wait.

He knew I was in that room but for some reason, my presence didn’t seem to move or bother him at all. So I just waited for him to finish with whatever it was he was looking down on from that damn window.

When he turned, Instinct took over.

My knees turned jelly.

I almost fell.

Because it was him.

The man from two nights before. The man who humiliated me and left me confused.

But now, he wasn’t just the random stranger who had rejected me, he was different, cold. Distant.

As he moved closer to his desk, the air between us tightened, in a way that felt both tense and powerful, like he owned the space.

And he did.

Because he was my boss. The CEO of Reynor Corporations.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

For a minute, I felt my anger boil over.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Heat flooded my face, but not from embarrassment this time. From pure, burning rage.

This goddamn asshole again?

He got me naked and desperate, made me expose myself to him, and then he just left. Like I was faulty because I hadn’t fucked someone before.

And now he was standing here, acting like he didn’t even know me?

I tried to compose myself. It was my first day, I shouldn’t get myself fired from a job I dreamed for all my life.

But looking at him now, his cold, indifferent face, his nonchalant attitude, I realized something.

I wasn’t the problem. He was.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, my voice shaking with anger.

He just looked at me. Blank. Like I’d said nothing at all.

“Really?” I took a step closer, my anger overriding every professional instinct I had. “You just had to be my boss after humiliating me, didn’t you?”

Nothing. Not even a flicker.

His gaze was empty, detached, cold. He looked at me like I was a total stranger, like he doesn’t already know my body.

He adjusted his tie. Slowly. Deliberately.

He brought the glass to his lips and took a slow sip, then he looked past me.

Like I wasn’t even there.

That gesture of dismissal was so daring, so absolute, it knocked the breath out of me.

“Oh my God.”

Whatever softness I thought I’d witnessed with this man before, that flicker of want? Gone, replaced by something that seemed rather cold. Remote. Distant, like there was a door deliberately shut, locking away every glimpse of the man I’d known.

The air grew thinner and overwhelming, like it could combust at any moment but only affect me. He took another slow sip of from his glass, before his eyes found mine, like he was daring me to say more.

I felt a spark of annoyance. Because why the hell won’t he say anything?!

Staying felt like dying slowly, but from anger, because the silence was torture and speaking would make me seem weak.

And I wasn’t about to give him that kind of satisfaction.

He settled into his chair with the effortless confidence of a king claiming his throne, every movement exuding an air of unchallenged authority.

Though I saw it.

The tension in his jaw. The tremor in his fingers and the stiffness of his shoulders, like he was fighting to keep his self in place, but his body betrayed him every time.

He didn’t smile or speak.

He just sat there, controlled as ever, eyes sweeping my stance with calculated interest. When his gaze found my eyes again, I blazed all over.

It was getting unbearably hot for me.

He looked away like he’d just witness the most devastatingly irritable thing on the planet, like my very presence was an inconvenience he’d have to tolerate for the rest of his life.

“So you’re not even going to say...”

“Miss Blackwood.” His voice was flat. Cold. Clipped. Like he had practiced it beforehand. “If you want to keep this job, then you have to stay professional. Else, the door is right behind you.”

Miss Blackwood?

Like he didn’t know my name was Tess. Like he hadn’t whispered it against my skin.

The anger burned hotter.

My chest felt tight. My eyes burned. “Fine.”