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Chapter 5: A Twist (Amy's POV)
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2023-05-25 21:30:54I had walked into intimidating rooms before.
Boardrooms filled with executives who thought they knew more than me.
Meetings where my last name spoke before I did.
But nothing prepared me for this.
Zion Petrakis didn’t just sit behind his desk.
He owned the space.
The room was too quiet, too bright, too controlled—like everything had been designed to make people feel smaller than they were.
And somehow, it worked.
His eyes lifted the moment I stepped in.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Like he had already decided I was either worth his time… or not.
“Sit,” he said simply.
Not a request.
A command.
I sat anyway.
Of course I did.
I straightened my posture immediately, refusing to let him see even a crack of uncertainty.
But I could feel it.
His attention.
Heavy.
Measuring.
The interview started almost immediately.
“Why Zion Groups?” he asked.
My fingers tightened slightly under the table.
“Because I want experience outside my family’s influence.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
“Or because you’re trying to escape it.”
“I’m not escaping anything.”
That earned a faint pause.
Like I had surprised him.
Good.
Let him be surprised.
He leaned back in his chair slowly, studying me like I was a problem he hadn’t decided how to solve yet.
“You’re Zack Armstrong’s daughter,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t flinch.
“Yes.”
“Then you understand exactly what walking into this company means.”
“I understand enough.”
A faint smirk appeared on his lips.
It irritated me more than I expected.
“Enough is dangerous,” he said quietly.
I held his gaze.
“So is underestimating people.”
Silence.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
But something shifted in the room.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just… charged.
He stood up and walked slowly toward the window, his back to me as he spoke again.
“The Diamond Groups and Zion Groups don’t just compete,” he said. “They collide.”
I swallowed slightly but kept my voice steady.
“I’m not here as my father’s representative.”
He turned back to me instantly.
That was the first time I saw it clearly.
Interest.
Sharp and unsettling.
“Then why are you here, Amy?”
My name sounded different when he said it.
Too deliberate.
Too personal.
I hated that it affected me.
“I’m here to prove I can stand on my own,” I said.
“Or to prove something to your parents.”
That hit closer than I liked.
My jaw tightened.
“Does it matter?”
His lips curved slightly again.
“That depends on how long you survive here.”
My heartbeat shifted.
Survive?
Not work.
Not succeed.
Survive.
He was testing me now.
Deliberately.
Question after question came after that.
Some professional.
Some too personal for comfort.
Each one felt like a pressure point he was searching for.
But I refused to break.
Even when I wanted to.
Even when his silence between questions felt heavier than the questions themselves.
At one point, I noticed something.
He wasn’t writing anything down.
He was watching me.
Not my answers.
Me.
As if I was the real interview.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair again.
And the room went still.
“You’re either confident,” he said slowly, “or dangerously reckless.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Maybe I’m both.”
That earned something different from him.
A real reaction.
A faint smile.
Not mocking.
Not dismissive.
Interested.
That was worse.
Worse for my focus.
Worse for my composure.
Because I wasn’t supposed to notice how attractive confidence looked on him when he wasn’t trying.
I forced myself to stay steady.
“I think I’m done here,” I said, standing.
His eyes followed me immediately.
And I hated how aware I became of that attention.
“You are,” he said calmly.
I paused at the door.
That should have been the end.
But then he spoke again.
“One more thing.”
I turned back.
He was still watching me.
Still unreadable.
“If I give you this position,” he said, “you don’t get special treatment because of your name.”
A small smile pulled at my lips before I could stop it.
“I wouldn’t expect it.”
A beat.
Then—
“Good,” he said quietly. “Because you’d hate me if you did.”
That made something in my chest tighten unexpectedly.
“I already don’t like you,” I replied.
It slipped out before I could filter it.
For the first time—
Zion actually looked amused.
“Interesting,” he said.
My grip tightened on my bag.
“Is that all?”
He nodded slightly.
But his eyes didn’t leave mine.
Not even for a second.
“You can go.”
I turned and walked out before I could overthink anything.
But even as the door closed behind me…
I felt it.
His attention is still on me.
And worse than that...............
I wasn’t sure I hated it as much as I should have.
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