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Fire and Ice
Last Updated:
2025-09-19 06:25:02
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His Billion-Dollar Secret Fire and Ice
Amara’s POVBy Friday morning, I was running purely on caffeine and spite.If Damian Cruz thought he could wear me down by piling more work on my desk than any sane human could handle, he had another thing coming. I might have been exhausted, but I was also stubborn. And if there was one thing I refused to do, it was let him win.Still, when I opened my email to find three—three!—urgent tasks all marked “high priority” from him before I’d even had my first sip of coffee, I nearly screamed.Clara leaned over my desk, eyebrows raised. “He’s relentless. You should sue him for workplace cruelty.”“Please,” I muttered, clicking open the attachments. “If I sued him, he’d probably just counter-sue me for existing.”She giggled, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “You do bring out… a special side of him.”I shot her a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”She smirked knowingly. “Let’s just say he doesn’t glower at anyone else the way he glowers at you.”I groaned and buried my face in my h
His Billion-Dollar Secret Sparks and Storms
Amara’s POVBy Thursday morning, I was convinced Damian Cruz had made it his life’s mission to torment me.If he wasn’t piling impossible deadlines on my desk, he was nitpicking every little detail in my reports. And if he wasn’t doing that, he was just… staring. With those maddening gray eyes that made my heart trip over itself like a clumsy ballerina.“Ms. Lopez.” his deep voice called from his office, sharp as a whip.I groaned under my breath, earning a sympathetic pat on the arm from Clara. “Go,” she whispered. “Face your dragon.”So I squared my shoulders and marched in, notebook in hand. “Yes, Mr. Cruz?”He didn’t glance up from his laptop. “Schedule my lunch meeting with Mr. Ramirez for noon. Reschedule the investor call to tomorrow. And cancel my dinner with…” His voice trailed off, and he finally looked at me. “…actually, leave that one.”I arched a brow. “Your girlfriend?”His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do I look like I have time for a girlfriend?”I opened my mouth—then s
His Billion-Dollar Secret Lines We Shouldn’t Cross
Amara’s POVIf surviving my first week at Cruz Holdings felt like climbing a mountain, week two was like getting shoved off a cliff.By Monday morning, Damian Cruz had already decided I was his personal chew toy.“Ms. Lopez,” he called the moment I set foot in the office. His voice carried across the floor like a whip crack. “In my office. Now.”Every head swiveled toward me. Phones stopped mid-ring, keyboards paused mid-click. Great. Nothing like being summoned at 9 a.m. on a Monday to set the tone for the week. I smoothed my blazer, lifted my chin, and marched into his lair like I had a shred of dignity left.“Good morning, sir.” I said through gritted teeth.He didn’t even look up. “Define ‘good.’”I blinked. Was he serious? “Uh… the opposite of bad?”Finally, he raised his head. Those storm-gray eyes locked on me, cool and merciless. “You’re witty this morning. Let’s see if you’re competent.” He slid a flash drive across the desk like it was a weapon. “There are files on this. Sen
His Billion-Dollar Secret Sparks and Clashes
Amara’s POVBy the end of my first week at Cruz Holdings, I realized one thing: Damian Cruz had made it his personal mission to drive me insane.Every morning, I arrived early, hair neat, blazer ironed, determination etched into my bones. I told myself that today, I’d prove I could handle this internship with grace. I’d be the kind of intern who kept her head down, took notes, and maybe even impressed him enough to secure a good recommendation letter.But Damian Cruz seemed to have other plans.“Ms. Lopez,” he’d call from his office, his voice like ice. He never even looked up from his computer. “Get me the quarterly reports. The unedited ones.”Five minutes later, before I’d even finished organizing them: “Lopez. Where’s the coffee? Black. No sugar. This is not black.”And then, right when I thought I could breathe, he’d casually toss another pile of impossible documents on my desk. “Correct the formatting. By noon.”By noon. As if time bent for him.Clara, my desk-mate and fellow in
His Billion-Dollar Secret The Test
Amara’s POVIf day one at Cruz Holdings had been nerve-wracking, day two felt like running a marathon with no finish line. I barely had time to sip water before Clara was piling tasks on me—printing reports, answering emails, and double-checking spreadsheets. Every time I thought I was catching up, another file landed on my desk like an avalanche waiting to bury me alive.But nothing terrified me more than the message that popped onto my screen around noon:“CEO’s office. Now.”My stomach dropped so fast I thought I might be sick. Clara glanced over, spotted the email, and gave me a sympathetic wince.“Good luck,” she whispered. “He’s… intense.”That was putting it mildly.I forced my legs to move, clutching my notepad like it was body armor. The hallway stretched before me like a tunnel leading straight to hell. Each step echoed on the marble floor, taunting me with the reminder that I was about to face the man I’d humiliated in a café just days ago.When I knocked, his voice came sh
His Billion-Dollar Secret First Day, First Test
Amara’s POVThe thing about skyscrapers is… they look so beautiful from the outside. But when you’re inside—when you’re a small, trembling intern riding the elevator to the top floor—they feel suffocating.My first official day at Cruz Holdings, and my heart was already trying to leap out of my chest. The polished elevator walls reflected my anxious face: wide eyes, pressed lips, hair I had tried to tame three times this morning but still refused to behave.I clutched my employee badge like it was a golden ticket. I’d gotten the internship. Somehow. Against all odds. Even against Damian Cruz himself.“Breathe, Amara.” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the hum of the elevator.When the doors slid open, the office exploded into motion. Assistants carried stacks of folders, phones rang nonstop, executives strode past like soldiers on a mission. No one lingered. No one wasted time.I felt like an imposter in my thrift-store blazer and wobbly heels.“Amara, right?” A chee
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