Chapter 2: The Deal with the Devil

Elara

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My back hit the floor-to-ceiling window as Kael Blackwood stalked toward me, and I realized with horrifying clarity that I'd made a catastrophic mistake. 

Not sleeping with him, though that was definitely up there, but thinking I could escape the consequences.

"Mr. Blackwood," I managed, hating how breathless I sounded. "I can explain"

"Explain?" His laugh was dark velvet over steel. He stopped inches away, close enough that his scent, cedar and something wild I couldn't name made my head spin. "You're going to explain why you left three hundred dollars on my nightstand like I was some kind of escort?"

Heat flooded my face. "I thought... I didn't know who you were. I just—"

"You just what?" He braced one hand on the glass beside my head, caging me in. "Decided to insult the most powerful CEO in North America? Brilliant career move, Miss Sterling."

The way he said my name, like he'd memorized it sent shivers down my spine. This was wrong. 

He was my potential boss. I needed this job desperately and all I could think about was how those hands had felt on my skin.

"I'm sorry." The words came out strangled. "I was drunk and devastated and I made a mistake. Multiple mistakes. Can we please just forget it happened and conduct a professional interview?"

His eyes flashed silver, and for a second I could have sworn they glowed. 

"Forget?" He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "I remember every sound you made, dulceață. Every time you called my name. Every time you—"

"Stop." I shoved at his chest, solid muscle that didn't budge an inch. "This is sexual harassment. You can't—"

"Can't what?" He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, and the hunger there stole my breath. "Can't remember the best night of my life? Can't want to repeat it? Or can't hire the woman who's haunted me for three days?"

Wait. "Hire me?"

"Sit." He gestured to the chair across from his desk, suddenly all business. The shift was so abrupt it gave me whiplash.

I sat, smoothing my skirt with trembling hands. He rounded the desk, putting blessed distance between us, and opened a file that I realized with a jolt was my resume.

"Columbia Business School, top of your class. Three years managing your husband's—ex-husband's—investment portfolio with a twenty-three percent return. Fluent in four languages, Impeccable references from everyone except your family." He looked up. "Why does the Sterling heiress need a job as my personal assistant?"

"I'm not the Sterling heiress anymore."

"Because your family disowned you for divorcing a cheating husband." It wasn't a question. His jaw tightened. "I did my research, Elara. May I call you Elara?"

The intimacy of my name on his lips made my stomach flip. "If I can call you Kael."

"In private, you can call me anything you want." The promise in his voice was sin incarnate and in a blink the professional mask slammed back. 

"The job is demanding. Eighty-hour weeks, constant travel,  you'll manage my schedule, handle confidential negotiations, and essentially run my life. The pay is five hundred thousand annually, plus bonuses."

I almost fell out of my sit. "That's... that's excessive for an assistant position."

"Not for my assistant." He leaned back, studying me with those unnerving eyes. "I have specific requirements. Discretion is paramount. Some of my business dealings are unconventional. You'll sign an NDA that would bankrupt you if you violate it, you'll be available twenty-four seven and you'll move into the corporate apartment for security reasons."

Every instinct screamed this was a trap. But the number, God, with that salary I could rebuild everything, start my own company eventually. Never depend on anyone again.

"Why me?" I asked. "You could hire anyone."

His smile was predatory. "Because you walked away from me. No one walks away from me, Elara and I always collect my debts."

"I don't owe you anything."

"You owe me extra three hundred dollars." He pulled the cash from his desk drawer and my mortification reached new heights. "Plus interest, plus an apology delivered on your knees."

The air left the room. "Excuse me?"

"Professionally speaking, of course." But his eyes said otherwise. "Take the job. Prove you're more than a spoiled heiress playing at independence or walk out and spend the rest of your life wondering what you could have been."

Bastard. He knew exactly which buttons to push.

"Fine." I stood, channeling every ounce of dignity I had left. "I accept. But we're going to have rules. No touching, no references to that night. Strictly professional."

He rose slowly, power radiating off him in waves. "Of course. Strictly professional." He extended his hand. "Welcome to Blackwood Enterprises, Miss Sterling."

I took his hand. Mistake. The contact sent electricity arcing up my arm, and from the way his pupils dilated, he felt it too. His grip tightened, pulling me closer.

The office door burst open.

"Kael, we have a—" The woman who entered was stunning, all sharp edges and predatory grace. Her eyes landed on our joined hands and something dangerous flashed across her face. "Problem. The pack elders are here, they're demanding answers about the Alpha Queen situation."

Kael dropped my hand like I'd burned him. "Not now, Nyx."

"Yes, now." The woman—Nyx—turned to me, her gaze calculating. "And who is this? Your latest conquest?"

"My new personal assistant." His voice was pure ice. "Elara Sterling, this is Nyx Ravenwood, my head of security. Nyx, Miss Sterling starts tomorrow. Show her to the corporate apartment and ensure she has everything she needs."

Nyx's eyebrows rose. "You're hiring a “she” as your PA? That's... New"

"My decisions aren't up for debate." The authority in his voice made even the formidable Nyx straighten. "We'll discuss the other matter later. Miss Sterling, eight AM tomorrow, don't be late."

It was a dismissal. I grabbed my purse, nodded stiffly, and followed Nyx into the hallway. The second the door closed, she spun on me.

"What the hell are you playing at?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You reek of him." Her nose wrinkled. "His scent is all over you. When did you—" Her eyes widened. "Oh my God. You're the woman from the club, the one who's been making him insane."

My face burned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Honey, I've known Kael for fifteen years. He doesn't do one-night stands, he doesn't do relationships and he sure as hell doesn't hire random women as his PA." She studied me like I was a puzzle. "There's something different about you. Something I can't quite..."

She leaned in, sniffing—actually sniffing me, and I jerked back.

"Personal space!"

"You smell wrong," she muttered. "Human, but not. There's something underneath, something—" She shook her head. "Whatever. Come on, the apartment's on the fortieth floor, penthouse level. A word of advice? Whatever game you and Kael are playing? Be careful. He's not what he seems, none of us are."

The warning sent chills down my spine. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smiled. "You'll find out soon enough. The real question is whether you'll survive the discovery."

---

The corporate apartment was obscenely luxurious, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen I'd never use, and a view that made my hotel room look like a prison cell. Nyx left me with a keycard and another cryptic warning about "keeping my head down during the full moon."

I was unpacking my pathetically small suitcase when my phone rang. My mother.

I almost didn't answer but some self-destructive part of me needed to hear her say it, needed the confirmation that I was truly alone.

"Elara. I heard you got a job." Her voice was cold crystal. "With Kael Blackwood, no less. Impressive, considering your spectacular failure as a wife."

"Mother—"

"Your father and I have made our position clear. You are no longer a Sterling, Vivienne will inherit everything, as she should have from the beginning. She's marrying Marcus next month, and you are not invited."

The words should have hurt. Instead, I felt nothing. Just a vast, empty space where my family used to be.

"Understood." My voice was steady. "Anything else?"

"Yes." She paused, and something in her tone made my skin crawl. "Stay away from the Blackwood family. They're not suitable associates for someone of your breeding. There are things about that family, about Kael himself, that you don't understand. Dangerous things."

"Funny," I said, "that you suddenly care about my wellbeing."

"I'm warning you, Elara. Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again."

She hung up.

I stood in the empty apartment, her warning echoing in my mind alongside Nyx's cryptic comments. What was everyone not telling me about Kael Blackwood?

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “Sleep well, dulceață.”

I should have been angry, instead, heat pooled low in my belly, and I knew with terrifying certainty that I was in way over my head.

A second text arrived: “P.S. The corporate apartment has cameras everywhere except the bedroom. Just so you know what privacy you have and don't have.”

I looked up at the smoke detector in the living room. Was that...?

A third text: “Yes, that's a camera. Stop staring at it, go to bed. You look exhausted.”

He was watching. Right now.

I flipped off the smoke detector.

My phone rang immediately against my better judgment, I answered.

"That was incredibly foolish, Elara." His voice was low. "Rule one, don't provoke me."

"You're watching me in my own apartment!"

"My apartment. You're in my building, working my job, under my protection. Everything here is mine." A pause, heavy with meaning. "Including you."

"I am not—"

"Eight AM, dulceață. Wear something that won't make me want to bend you over my desk. We have a board meeting at nine, and I need my assistant focused."

He hung up.

I stared at my phone, heart racing, body betraying me with its response to his words.

What had I gotten myself into? And why did some dark part of me want to find out?