CHAPTER 3

Two weeks.

It had been exactly fourteen days since Liam’s plane took off for Singapore, but to Hazel, sitting in her cubicle on the forty-second floor, it felt like a lifetime.

She stared blindly at the spreadsheet on her monitor, clicking her pen against the desk. She missed him with a dull, constant ache in the center of her chest. Their goodbye had been a chaotic, tearful blur at the airport drop-off, and since then, the brutal fifteen-hour time difference had practically erased their communication. When she was waking up to get ready for work, he was exhausted and going to sleep. When she was eating dinner alone in their apartment, he was stepping into back-to-back boardroom meetings. They texted when they could, but it wasn't the same.

The sudden, sharp ring of her desk phone made Hazel jump, her pen clattering onto the keyboard.

She cleared her throat, shaking off the fog, and picked up the receiver. "Hazel Evans."

"Ms. Evans," a crisp, perfectly modulated female voice said. "This is Mr. Sterling’s executive assistant. He requires your presence in his office immediately."

Hazel’s blood ran completely cold. The air in her lungs simply vanished. "Mr. Sterling? Right now?"

"Yes. Top floor. Use the private executive elevator," the assistant said, and the line clicked dead.

Hazel slowly put the receiver down. Her hands were instantly clammy. Chloe rolled her office chair over from the adjacent cubicle, poking her head around the gray partition. She took one look at Hazel’s pale, bloodless face and her own eyes went wide.

"What happened?" Chloe whispered frantically. "You look like you're going to throw up."

"Xavier's assistant just called," Hazel said, her voice shaking slightly. She stood up, her knees feeling like water as she smoothed her hands nervously over her pencil skirt. "He wants to see me in his office. Right now."

"Oh my god," Chloe breathed, covering her mouth.

"Chloe, I'm getting fired," Hazel choked out, genuine panic rising in her throat. "He’s going to fire me over the Q3 presentation. I must have messed up the liquidation numbers. He found an error. I'm going to be completely unemployed by lunch."

"Hey, no, don't panic," Chloe said quickly, standing up and grabbing Hazel’s arm. "You nailed that pitch. The board loved it. Just apologize if he found a rounding error. Grovel if you have to. Breathe, Hazel."

Hazel couldn't breathe. She grabbed her notebook, just in case she needed to write down her own termination details, and walked numbly toward the center of the building.

The forty-second floor had a separate, dedicated elevator bank tucked behind a frosted glass wall. It was the VIP lift—the one that bypassed the rest of the building and went straight to the CEO's suite. Only senior executives and the most elite personnel were ever allowed to swipe their badges on the black card reader. Hazel had never even stood in front of it before.

Her hand shook as she tapped her badge. A small green light beeped, and the brushed steel doors slid open silently.

Stepping inside felt entirely surreal. The elevator didn't have normal buttons, just a sleek touchscreen. It felt like she was stepping into a different world, ascending to the absolute Olympus of Vanguard Holdings. Her heart hammered a violent, bruising rhythm against her ribs the entire way up.

The elevator slowed, and the doors parted with a soft chime.

The top floor was a masterpiece of intimidating wealth. Dark hardwood floors, massive modern art pieces, and absolute, suffocating silence. A sharply dressed assistant sitting behind a curved marble desk simply nodded, pointing toward the massive, heavy oak double doors at the very end of the hall.

Hazel walked toward them, feeling like she was walking to the gallows. She swallowed the dry lump of fear in her throat and knocked twice.

"Come in," a deep, rough voice commanded from inside.

Hazel pushed the heavy oak door open and stepped into the room.

Xavier’s office was massive, dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a dizzying, unobstructed view of San Francisco. He wasn't sitting behind his desk. He was standing near the glass, looking out over the city. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket today, just a crisp, dark button-down shirt that pulled tightly across his incredibly broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to expose his thick forearms.

He turned around.

His piercing blue eyes locked onto her instantly. They were heavy, calculating, and completely intense.

"Close the door, Ms. Evans," Xavier ordered.

Hazel did as she was told, pushing the heavy door shut until it clicked. Her legs felt like lead as she walked closer to his massive, immaculately organized desk. She kept her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her knuckles turning white.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Hazel said, her voice wavering just a fraction before she forced it steady. "If this is regarding the Q3 projection, I can completely rework the backend data. I know there were aggressive variables, but—"

"Sit down," Xavier interrupted. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable, heavy weight that immediately silenced her.

Hazel stopped rambling and sat rigidly on the very edge of the leather guest chair.

Xavier walked slowly away from the window. He didn't sit. He paced slowly behind his leather chair, his tall, imposing frame radiating a cold, terrifying energy. Every movement he made was deliberately slow, making Hazel hyper-aware of how much physical space he controlled. She didn't know what to do with her hands. She felt entirely entirely small under his scrutiny.

He finally stopped pacing, planting his hands flat on the polished desk and leaning slightly toward her.

"Marcus is not returning to Vanguard," Xavier said, his sharp blue eyes tracking her face. "His medical leave requires a six-month recovery period. His position is entirely vacant."

Hazel blinked, her panic faltering into sheer confusion. "I... I'm very sorry to hear that, sir."

"I don't need your apologies," Xavier said smoothly, completely dismissing the sentiment. He pulled open a desk drawer, withdrew a thick, black folder, and tossed it onto the desk between them. It landed with a heavy thud. "I need a Senior Analyst. Your presentation two weeks ago was flawless. Your projection models were accurate under extreme pressure. You are taking his position. Effective immediately."

Hazel completely froze. Her mouth parted in shock. Her brain scrambled to process the words. "You... you're promoting me? To Senior Analyst?"

"Interim Senior Analyst," Xavier corrected, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her reaction. "Until I decide if you can handle the permanent pressure. The position comes with a seventy percent salary increase, full executive benefits, and Marcus’s office."

Hazel just stared at him. A seventy percent increase. Executive benefits. That was life-changing money. It meant she and Liam wouldn't have to scrape pennies for a house. It meant her student loans would be wiped out in a year. She had fully expected to be fired and escorted out of the building by security, and instead, the terrifying CEO was handing her a massive career leap.

"I—sir, thank you. Thank you so much," Hazel stammered, a genuine, breathless smile breaking across her face despite her fear. "I won't let you down. I promise."

Xavier’s eyes dropped instantly to her lips as she smiled. He stared at her mouth for a fraction of a second before his cold blue gaze snapped right back up to her eyes. He picked up an expensive silver pen from his desk and held it out to her over the folder.

"Sign the non-disclosure agreement on the first page, Ms. Evans," he ordered, his voice dropping slightly in pitch.

Hazel reached out to take the pen.

As her fingers wrapped around the silver barrel, Xavier didn't let go.

Hazel’s breath hitched. His large, warm fingers were gripping the top of the pen, his skin brushing directly against her knuckles. He stood there, completely still, holding the pen hostage. His striking blue eyes were locked intensely on hers.

One second passed. Then two. Then three.

The physical contact sent a sudden, jarring jolt of heat straight up Hazel’s arm. He was holding onto it entirely on purpose. He was testing her. He was making her wait, asserting his absolute control over the moment, making her hyper-aware of his proximity and his power.

After five agonizing seconds of heavy, unspoken tension, he finally released the pen. His expression remained an absolute, terrifying blank slate.

Hazel quickly dropped her eyes to the paper, her heart racing frantically for an entirely different reason now. She quickly signed her name on the dotted line, her hand shaking slightly. She rationalized the weird, intense moment in her head immediately. He's just an intimidating man. He does that to exert power over his employees. He just wants to see if I'll crack under pressure. She respected him professionally, and the promotion was everything she needed. She wasn't going to read into it.

"Leave the file with my assistant," Xavier said, already turning his back to her to look out the window again.

"Yes, sir. Thank you again," Hazel said quickly. She grabbed the folder and practically fled the office, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind her.

When the VIP elevator finally deposited her back on the forty-second floor, Chloe was practically vibrating with anxiety by the water cooler.

Hazel walked toward her, completely dazed, holding the black folder against her chest.

"Hazel!" Chloe hissed, running over and grabbing her shoulders. "You're alive! You're not holding a cardboard box. Did he yell at you? What happened?"

Hazel looked at her best friend, a massive, disbelieving smile breaking across her face. "Chloe. He didn't fire me."

"Thank God," Chloe exhaled, dropping her head onto Hazel's shoulder.

"He promoted me," Hazel blurted out.

Chloe’s head snapped back up. "What?"

"Marcus isn't coming back for six months," Hazel said, her voice rising with excitement. "Xavier just made me the Interim Senior Analyst. Seventy percent pay bump. I get Marcus’s office."

"Shut up!" Chloe screamed, grabbing Hazel’s hands and jumping up and down right there in the middle of the cubicle aisle. "Oh my god! Hazel! That is insane! A seventy percent bump? You're rich! We are going out tonight. Drinks are on you. Party at the bar!"

"I can't," Hazel laughed, hugging her friend back. "The promotion is effective immediately. He gave me the Q4 budget reports. I have to stay late and completely restructure the data for tomorrow."

"Who cares!" Chloe cheered, completely ignoring the workload. "You're a Senior Analyst! Oh my god, Liam is going to lose his mind when you call him!"

Hazel smiled, a brief pang of sadness hitting her at the mention of Liam, but the sheer excitement of the promotion pushed it back down. She had to prove she deserved this. She had to prove she wasn't just a junior number-cruncher.

The rest of the afternoon was a chaotic blur. She moved her few desk belongings into Marcus’s old, spacious glass office at the end of the floor. It had a door that actually closed, a massive mahogany desk, and a real leather chair.

But the promotion came with an immediate, crushing workload.

By ten-thirty that night, the entire forty-second floor was completely deserted. The cleaning staff had already come and gone. Hazel sat entirely alone in her new office, the harsh glow of her dual monitors illuminating her tired face. Her eyes were burning as she typed the final, brutal calculations into the massive budget report Xavier expected on his desk by morning.

She finally hit save, letting out a massive groan as she stretched her stiff arms high over her head. Her neck popped loudly. She packed her laptop into her leather bag, turned off her office lamp, and walked out into the dark, quiet hallway.

The main overhead lights had automatically shut off hours ago to save energy. The only lights left were the dim, yellowish emergency bulbs lining the baseboards, casting long, eerie shadows across the carpet.

Hazel walked toward the main elevator bank, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She opened her messages, typing out a quick, excited text to Liam about the promotion, even though she knew he was in the middle of a workday in Singapore and wouldn't reply for hours.

She reached out and pressed the down button for the elevator.

Click.

A loud, heavy mechanical thud echoed through the walls. The emergency lights lining the hallway violently flickered, and then completely died. The low, steady hum of the building's central air conditioning violently cut off.

The entire floor plunged into absolute, suffocating, pitch-black darkness.

Hazel gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. She fumbled her phone in shock, and it slipped right through her fingers, hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

"Hello?" Hazel called out, her voice trembling in the pitch black.

Total silence. The power grid had completely failed.

Hazel crouched down, her hands blindly sweeping over the rough carpet, desperately trying to find her phone so she could turn on the flashlight. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal edge of her phone case.

Right as she grabbed it, she heard a sound.

It was a heavy, deliberate footstep on the carpet. Right behind her.

Hazel snatched her phone and stood up quickly, spinning around in the dark.

She slammed directly into a solid, unyielding wall of pure muscle.

Hazel let out a sharp cry of fear, stumbling backward off balance. But before she could fall, two large, incredibly strong hands shot out of the darkness, gripping her bare arms fiercely. At the exact same moment, a broad, incredibly hard chest pressed completely flush against her back, trapping her entirely in the pitch black.

"Still," a deep, rough voice rumbled right next to her ear.

Hazel froze instantly. Her heart hammered so violently against her ribs she thought it might physically break through her chest. The sudden, overwhelming scent of expensive cedar, cold ozone, and dark cologne wrapped entirely around her.

She knew that voice. She knew that scent.

"Sir?" Hazel whispered, her voice shaking uncontrollably in the dark. "Mr. Sterling?"

"The grid blew," Xavier said, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that she could physically feel against her spine.

He didn't let go of her arms. His chest remained pressed firmly against her back, his body heat radiating right through the thin silk of her work blouse. The sheer size of him in the dark was completely overwhelming.

"Okay," Hazel breathed out.

She was entirely terrified by the sudden darkness, but the heavy physical presence of her boss holding her against his body was completely short-circuiting her brain. She tried to take a step forward, to put normal, professional distance between them, but Xavier’s grip on her arms simply tightened, holding her exactly where she was.

"I said stay still," Xavier commanded softly, the deep timber of his voice sending a shiver straight down her neck. "You're going to trip over the decorative table behind you."

"I have my phone," Hazel stammered, fumbling blindly with the device in her hand. Her fingers were shaking so badly she could barely find the side button to wake the screen.

She finally managed to hit the flashlight button. A harsh, bright white beam cut through the heavy darkness, illuminating the brushed steel of the elevator doors in front of them.

Xavier slowly released her arms. He took a calculated step back, instantly removing the heavy, burning heat of his chest from her spine.

Hazel spun around quickly, pointing the flashlight slightly downward toward the floor so she wouldn't blind him.

He looked exactly the same as he had in his office earlier that day. His dark sleeves were still rolled up, his broad shoulders relaxed. His expression was completely blank, totally unfazed by the sudden blackout or the fact that he had just been holding his new Senior Analyst entirely flush against his body.

"I didn't know anyone else was still in the building, sir," Hazel said nervously, hugging her arms tightly across her chest to ward off the sudden chill.

"I was reviewing your department's security files," Xavier said smoothly.

His striking blue eyes caught the harsh glare of the flashlight. They looked completely predatory in the heavy shadows. He didn't move away. He just stood there, towering over her, his gaze heavy and intensely focused.

Before Hazel could find the words to respond, a loud, mechanical hum vibrated through the floorboards. The overhead lights violently flickered, buzzed loudly, and then snapped back on, blindingly bright.

Hazel immediately turned her flashlight off, blinking rapidly against the sudden, harsh glare. She looked up at Xavier.

He was standing far too close. He was entirely invading her personal space, looking down at her with that heavy, calculating stare.

"The elevators will require a complete system reset," Xavier said, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion. He finally took a step back, slipping his large hands casually into his trouser pockets. "Take the emergency stairs, Ms. Evans. Go home."

"Yes, sir. Have a good night," Hazel said quickly.

She didn't wait for him to respond. She turned and practically ran toward the heavy stairwell door at the end of the hall, her pulse racing frantically.

She told herself he was just being practical. He was just stopping her from tripping in the dark. But as she hurried down forty-two flights of concrete stairs, her skin still burned exactly where his large hands had gripped her arms, and she couldn't shake the terrifying, intrusive thought that the CEO had held onto her just a little bit longer than necessary.