CHAPTER 3: The Contract Details

"Right now?" Emma repeated, staring at Adrian like he'd lost his mind. "I haven't even signed anything yet."

"Details," Adrian said dismissively, walking back to his desk. "Jessica will handle the paperwork."

Details? Emma followed him, anger flaring again. "No, no details. I need to know what I'm agreeing to. What exactly does 'personal assistant' mean?"

Adrian pulled out a thick folder from his desk drawer. "Everything is outlined in the contract."

Emma took the folder with trembling hands. It was heavy, way heavier than any normal employment agreement should be.

"This is like fifty pages," she said, flipping through it. The legal language made her head spin. "Most job contracts are five pages, maybe ten."

"Most jobs don't pay two hundred thousand a year," Adrian pointed out, settling back in his chair to watch her. 

The way he's looking at me, Emma thought, her skin heating under his gaze. Like he's memorizing every detail.

"Plus benefits. Plus the penthouse," Adrian continued.

"About that penthouse," Emma said, forcing herself to focus on the contract instead of his mouth. "I never said I wanted to live in a penthouse. I have my own apartment."

"That studio with the broken air conditioning?" Adrian's voice was casual, but something in his tone made Emma's pulse quicken. "The one where you haven't been sleeping well?"

Emma looked up sharply. "How do you know I'm not sleeping well?"

"You have dark circles under your eyes. You're drinking more coffee than usual." Adrian leaned forward slightly. "You look exhausted, Emma."

He's been watching me that closely? The thought should have terrified her. Instead, it sent a strange thrill through her body.

What is wrong with me?

"I know," Adrian continued, his voice softer now, "that you've been working yourself to death trying to keep up with everything. Three jobs, your mother's care, bills piling up..."

"Stop," Emma whispered. Something about the gentleness in his voice was more dangerous than his threats.

"The penthouse isn't a suggestion, Emma. As my personal assistant, you need to be available when I need you. That means living close enough that I don't have to worry about you."

Worry about me? Emma's heart did something stupid in her chest. "Available for what, exactly?"

"Business calls. Emergency meetings. Travel." Adrian's eyes never left her face. "Whatever I need."

Emma forced herself to look back at the contract, trying to ignore the way his voice wrapped around her like silk. One section made her frown.

"What does this mean?" she asked, pointing to a paragraph. "'Employee agrees to maintain absolute discretion regarding employer's personal business and private activities.'"

"I value my privacy," Adrian said carefully.

"This part is about five million dollars in damages for breach of confidentiality," Emma read. "What kind of personal business requires this level of secrecy?"

Adrian was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was measured. "I have enemies, Emma. People who would use information about my personal life to hurt me. Or hurt people I care about."

People he cares about. Emma's stupid heart fluttered again.

"Are you involved in something illegal?" she asked.

"No," Adrian said firmly. "But wealth and power make you a target. I need someone I can trust completely."

Emma flipped through more pages, trying to focus on the words instead of the way Adrian was watching her. Something nagged at her - a detail that didn't make sense.

"You were nine years old," she said suddenly. "On that playground."

"Yes."

I'm so pathetic,"That was fifteen years ago, which makes you twenty-four now." Emma looked up at him. "But you're the CEO of Cross Industries. How does someone become CEO of a billion-dollar company at twenty-four?"

Adrian's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "I inherited the position when my father died."

"When did he die?"

"When I was sixteen."

Emma blinked. "You've been running this company since you were sixteen?"

"I had help. Advisors, mentors." Adrian's voice was clipped now. "It's not relevant to your employment."

But Emma's mind was racing. Something didn't add up.

"Cross Industries was founded twelve years ago," she said slowly. "I looked it up this morning. Which means..."

"Which means I found it when I was twelve," Adrian finished. His voice was dangerously quiet.

Emma stared at him. "That's impossible."

"Is it?"

The way he said it, calm, certain, with no hint of defensiveness,  sent chills down Emma's spine.

"How does a twelve-year-old found a company?"

"Very carefully," Adrian said. "With the right connections. The right... capabilities."

Capabilities. Emma didn't like the way he said that word.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.

Adrian stood and walked around the desk toward her. Emma's breath caught as he approached, he moved too smoothly, too gracefully, like he was floating instead of walking.

"I'm telling you everything you need to know," Adrian said, stopping just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "The question is whether you're brave enough to accept it."

God, he smells good, Emma thought dazedly. Like pine trees and something wild and...

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to descend whenever he got close to her.

"I need to think about this," she said, clutching the contract to her chest like a shield.

"No, you don't." Adrian's voice was gentle but implacable. "You need this job, Emma. Your mother needs you to take this job."

The reminder hit like a slap. Emma closed her eyes, thinking of her mother's pale face in that hospital bed.

Mom first. Questions later.

"What about my other jobs?" she asked weakly.

"I'll make sure they're handled," Adrian said. "You don't need to worry about anything except being here when I need you."

Being here when I need you. The possessiveness in his voice should have set off every alarm bell in her head.

Instead, it made her feel wanted. Needed. Important.

 Emma thought. He's manipulating my entire life and I'm getting butterflies because he wants me around.

"If I sign this," she said quietly, "what happens to me?"

"You get to save your mother," Adrian said simply. "You get financial security. You get to stop worrying about money and focus on what matters."

"And you get what?"

Adrian's smile was slow and devastating. "I get you."

The way he said it made Emma's knees weak. Not possessive or threatening, just honest. Like she was something precious he'd been waiting for.

This is crazy, Emma thought. This whole situation is insane.

But when she looked into Adrian's golden eyes, she felt something she hadn't felt in years: hope.

"Where do I sign?" she heard herself ask.

"Page forty-seven," Adrian said softly. "Initial every page before that."

Emma's hands shook as she began signing. Each initial felt like a small surrender, each signature like a step deeper into something she didn't understand.

I'm making a deal with the devil, she thought. But maybe the devil is exactly what I need right now. When she finished, Adrian took the contract from her hands, his fingers brushing hers. The contact sent electricity up her arm.

"Welcome to Cross Industries, Emma Parker," he said, his voice warm with satisfaction.

"What happens now?" Emma asked.

"Now," Adrian said, "you start your new life."

My new life. Emma stared up at him, her heart pounding with equal parts terror and anticipation.

What have I gotten myself into?

But as Adrian smiled down at her with those beautiful, impossible eyes, Emma realized she didn't care about the answer. She was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Even if she didn't understand why yet.