Chapter 7

Elena’s POV

I stood there in the parking garage, staring at Jonathan like he’d just told me the sky was green and expected me to agree.

Personal Manager.

The words kept bouncing around in my head, refusing to make sense. One minute I was a Senior Financial Analyst, doing actual work that mattered, using my brain to solve problems and make decisions. The next minute I was being replaced by some Harvard clone and offered a position that sounded suspiciously like a glorified assistant.

“I need to go,” I said finally, stepping back from his car.

Jonathan didn’t try to stop me. He just watched me walk away with that infuriating smirk on his face, like he knew exactly what I was thinking and found it entertaining.

I drove home on autopilot, my mind spinning in circles.

Was this a demotion? It felt like one. Personal Manager sounded fancy, but what did it actually mean? Booking flights? Organizing his calendar? Following him around like a well-dressed puppy?

But then again…

I gripped the steering wheel tighter as another thought crept in.

If I took the job, I’d be close to Jonathan. I’ll be able to access his schedule, his finances, his entire life. That’s what I’d wanted from the beginning, wasn’t it? To get close to him, to make him trust me, in order to execute my plan.

This was actually perfect.

Except it didn’t feel perfect. It felt like I was losing control, like Jonathan was playing a game I didn’t understand and I was three steps behind.

I pulled into my apartment complex and sat in the car for a long moment, staring at nothing.

“Get it together,” I muttered to myself.

My phone buzzed in my purse, making me jump. I pulled it out and saw Jane’s name flashing on the screen.

Jane was the closest thing I had to a friend at Hart Global. She worked in Marketing, had a sharp sense of humor, and didn’t seem to care about the usual shit that goes on in the office. We became really good friends when we both got high on coffee and started gossiping about Patricia. Please don’t ask me how that happened.

I answered. “Hey.”

“Oh my God, Elena, are you okay?” Jane’s voice came through in a rush. “I just heard about Emily. Everyone’s talking about it. The work chat is going insane.”

Of course they were.

“I’m fine,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure that was true.

“Fine? Elena, they’re saying you got demoted. That you pissed off Hart and he’s replacing you.”

“It’s not a demotion.”

“Then what is it?”

I hesitated. “A promotion, apparently.”

“A promotion?” Jane sounded skeptical. “To what?”

“Personal Manager.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then: “Wait, what? That’s not even a real position.”

“Apparently it is now.”

“Elena…” Jane’s voice softened. “Are you sure about this? If something weird is going on you can tell me babe. I’m here for you.”

“I know how it looks,” I said. “But I can handle it.”

“Okay,” Jane said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Just… be careful, okay? Hart’s not someone you want to cross.”

“I know.”

We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up, feeling more exhausted than I had in months.

I went inside, took a long shower, and tried not to think about tomorrow.

The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a determination to stop overthinking everything.

I put on my sharpest black suit, pulled my hair back into a sleek ponytail, and applied my makeup with more precision than usual. If I was going to confront Jonathan Hart, I was going to look like someone who had her shit together, even if I didn’t.

The office felt different when I walked in. People looked at me…some with pity, some with curiosity, some with barely concealed satisfaction. I ignored all of them and headed straight for the elevator.

Patricia wasn’t at her desk yet, which was a small mercy.

I walked to Jonathan’s office and knocked once before pushing the door open.

He was already there, sitting behind his desk with a cup of coffee and his laptop open. He glanced up when I entered, raising an eyebrow.

“Miss Rivers,” he said. “You’re early.”

“We need to talk,” I said, closing the door behind me.

“About your new position, I assume?”

“About the fact that you handled this in the most unprofessional way possible,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’ve been here three months, Jonathan. Three. And you’re already changing my position without any warning, without any discussion. Do you have any idea how that looks?”

“I’m aware of how it looks,” he said calmly. “And I don’t particularly care.”

“Well, I do.”

“Noted.” He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Is there something else you’d like to say?”

“Yes, actually.” I stepped closer to his desk. “I want to know why. Why do you want me as your Personal Manager? What’s the real reason?”

Jonathan was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled…just slightly, like he was enjoying this.

“Because I think you’re wasted analyzing spreadsheets,” he said. “Because I need someone who can keep up with me, who won’t crumble under pressure, who won’t bore me to death with incompetence. And because, despite your tendency to step on toes and make enemies, you’re good at what you do.”

I wanted to argue, to push back, to demand a better explanation. But there was something in the way he said it that made me pause.

He meant it.

And more importantly, this was exactly what I needed. Close proximity. Access. Trust.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

“Good…”

“But I have conditions.”

Jonathan’s eyebrow went up. “Conditions?”

“Three of them.” I held up a finger. “First, I answer only to you. No board members, no executives, no interference from anyone else. If someone has a problem with something I do, they take it up with you, not me.”

He nodded slowly. “Agreed.”

“Second,” I continued, holding up another finger. “If at any point you decide I’m not useful anymore, you tell me to my face before you take any action. No blindsiding, and no games.”

“Fair enough.”

“And third,” I said, meeting his eyes. “I have the right to resign at any time, with no notice, no penalty, and a sealed employment record. If I decide this isn’t working, I walk away clean.”

Jonathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His expression was amused, almost admiring, and I could see he was enjoying this more than he probably should.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” he said.

“I don’t trust anyone,” I replied.

He laughed and the sound was so unexpected that I almost smiled despite myself.

“Alright, Miss Rivers,” he said, standing and extending his hand across the desk. “You have a deal.”

I shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip and the weight of what I’d just agreed to.

“When do I start?” I asked.

“Now,” Jonathan said simply. “We have a meeting in an hour with the board, and I need you there. Consider it your first day.”

I nodded, already mentally preparing myself for whatever fresh hell awaited me.

As I turned to leave, Jonathan called after me.

“Elena?”

I stopped and looked back.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said, his voice low and serious.

“Don’t give me a reason to,” I replied.

Then I walked out, closing the door behind me and wondering what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​