3. Game of mask.

Salvador!? My heart stuttered, a sharp inhale catching in my throat. No. It couldn't be.

I gripped the arms of the chair, my nails digging into the fabric as my pulse thundered in my ears. My mind raced, every memory from last night flashing before me like a fever dream, the golden-eyed werewolf, the way he saved me, the way he whispered his name before vanishing into the night. "Donte Salvador".

My body tensed as I rose to my feet, forcing a neutral expression even though every cell in my body was screaming. What were the chances?

Was it a coincidence? Or was I about to walk into an office and come face-to-face with the werewolf who had saved my life? A thrill shot through me excitement, anticipation, desperation for answers.

I had spent the entire night thinking about him, questioning why he saved me, and why, despite everything I believed about werewolves... I couldn't stop thinking about him. I needed to know. I had to know.

The assistant motioned toward the sleek hallway ahead, a polite smile on her lips. "Right this way, Mrs. Sullivan."

I nodded, my voice refusing to work as I stepped forward. Every step toward that office felt like a countdown to something massive, something that would change everything.

Would it be him?

Would it be those golden eyes staring at me across the desk? Or was I being ridiculous, chasing shadows in my mind?

I reached the door, my pulse hammering. The assistant stepped aside, pushing it open. And then I saw him. And my breath caught in my throat.

He sat behind a massive mahogany desk, exuding power, confidence, danger.  Broad shoulders filled out a tailored black suit, the fabric clinging to every inch of muscle. The crisp white shirt underneath was unbuttoned just enough to hint at tanned, sculpted skin.

His face was devastatingly perfect, sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline dusted with the faintest hint of stubble, lips curved ever so slightly. A smirk, but not quite. But his eyes,

Not golden but Dark.

For a split second, I froze.

It wasn't him, or was it?

 His gaze lifted, locking onto me as I stepped forward. And just like that, the air changed. The weight of his stare was too much, too intense.

Something in his dark eyes shifted, a flicker of recognition, a slow, deliberate study of my face, as if he knew me. As if he was waiting for me to react.

I swallowed hard and forced my legs to move, stepping deeper into the room. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to know.

He moved. And  he moved like a predator. Slow, controlled, dangerous.

He pushed his chair back and rose to his full height, towering over the desk, every inch of him exuding raw, effortless dominance. The air felt thicker. My pulse thundered.

He stepped around the desk, closing the space between us with lethal precision. I tensed, fighting the insane urge to back up.

But I didn't.  When he finally stopped in front of me, I was too aware of how close we were. I could smell him—cedar, spice, something dark and wild beneath the expensive cologne.

I could see the way his suit hugged his frame, tailored to perfection, but unable to fully hide the strength beneath. And then, he reached for my hand. his fingers wrapped around mine, warm and firm, his grip commanding yet careful. He held my gaze, and in a deep, smooth voice that sent a shiver down my spine, he said—

"Gabriel Salvador. CEO of Salvador Industries. A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan."

"Gabriel? Not Donte", I thought with a sigh of relief but hint of disappointment and Unsurety, I mean this could be the same person operating under another alias because he remained in his werewolf for when I saw him.

Was I wrong? Or is this a game?

His grip on my hand lingered just a second too long, and something in his dark eyes dared me to question him.

A smirk, just the barest hint of amusement, he curved his lips. He knew, I could feel it.

I wasn't crazy. I wasn't imagining it. Gabriel Salvador was hiding something.

And I was going to find out what.

I studied him as I took my seat, smoothing my dress, forcing myself to act like I hadn't just spent the last minute having a full-blown identity crisis.

Gabriel sat across from me, his movements too smooth, too controlled. But I wasn't just anyone. And I wasn't about to let him win whatever game he was playing.

I leaned forward, tilting my head slightly. "I have to admit, Mr. Salvador... I wasn't expecting such a personal interview."

His lips twitched. Not quite a smirk, but something close. "I like to know who I'm hiring." His voice was silk wrapped around steel. Smooth but edged with something unreadable.

I met his gaze head-on. "And what exactly are you looking for?"

He knew what I was doing. Testing him. Watching for any slip. But instead of answering, he leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk. Composed, Amused even.

"Tell me, Mrs. Sullivan," he said, voice casual. "What made you interested in this position as a personal assistant?"

Ah. "Deflection", I thought with determination.

Two could play that game. I smiled, crossing my legs, keeping my voice light. "My husband thought it would be good for me. He said I should put my skills to use in a... different environment."

Gabriel nodded slowly. "Ah, yes. Your husband."

My stomach twisted. Why did the way he said that make my skin heat? I didn't look away. "Yes. My husband."

Something flickered behind his dark eyes—something sharp. I almost wanted to push him further, just to see if he'd break. But then, his expression shifted.

"All the qualifications check out. You're clearly intelligent. Sharp." He leaned forward slightly.  "And I like sharp people working under me."

My breath hitched.

He smiled, a slow, devastating thing. "Congratulations, Mrs. Sullivan." He extended his hand again. "The job is yours." I hesitated, I should say no, I should walk away but instead... I reached out and shook his hand.

I couldn't stop thinking about him on the drive home. The way he moved, the way he spoke, The way he looked at me. Was he really just a powerful businessman? Or was he the same beast who had saved me that night? I needed answers. But first... I had to report in.