Chapter 6

Celeste’s POV

“You’re saying you need money beforehand?”

Killian's voice sliced through the silence like a scalpel—precise, indifferent. His chair creaked as he leaned back, forearms resting on the arms like a judge presiding over a case that didn’t quite interest him.

“You haven’t done any work yet.”

I stood across from him, every muscle in my body stiff from lack of sleep and tension I couldn’t shake. The air in his office was too still, too clean, and I felt like a smear on polished glass. My coat was wrinkled. My blouse stuck to the sweat along my spine. My hair was barely tied into a bun, strands already falling loose and brushing against my hollow cheeks.

I probably looked like a disaster.

But I wasn’t here to impress him.

I was here because I didn’t have a choice.

“I know how it sounds,” I said, forcing my voice to hold steady even though everything inside me was crumbling. “And I know I haven’t earned anything from you. But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.”

Killian didn’t blink. He didn’t even shift. He just sat there, watching me the way someone might observe a storm rolling in from behind bulletproof glass—curious, but untouched.

“I don’t do handouts,” he said finally. “If you’re looking for charity—”

“I’m not,” I cut in, too fast, too sharp. I exhaled slowly, trying to reign in the desperation scraping at the edge of my throat. “I’m not asking for a favor. I’ll work it off. Overtime. Administrative errands. Coffee runs. You can pay me less later. Just… front me something now.”

His brows twitched slightly, as if amused by the absurdity of it all.

“Why would I take that risk on someone I barely know?”

That was the thing.

Not the way that mattered. Not with names and job history. But he’d seen me once, stripped bare of logic and consequence, tangled in silk sheets and smoke-sweet perfume. He remembered me. I could see it in his eyes yesterday. I could see it now.

He was just choosing not to say it.

And I wasn’t about to hand him another piece of power over me.

“You’re right,” I said after a beat. “It’s a risk. But I’m not lying to you. I just need this job. I need the money. I’ll sign whatever you need. Write down hours, do double the work. Just give me the chance to prove I’m worth it.”

His jaw flexed, that same cold expression never leaving his face. It was like talking to stone.

A knock sounded on the door.

Before either of us could answer, it opened halfway, and a familiar voice broke the tension like a warm gust of wind in the middle of winter.

“Hey,” Theo said, stepping inside with a crooked smile. “Didn’t know you had someone in—oh. Celeste?”

He looked between the two of us, surprise flickering behind his eyes.

I straightened instinctively. “Hi.”

Killian’s gaze sharpened. “You two know each other?”

Theo blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, from the other day. I met her outside—she was job hunting. Thought I’d point her in your direction. Small world, huh?”

Killian didn’t say anything for a second, and I could feel his attention shift back to me like the eye of a storm.

“Very small,” he murmured.

Theo glanced between us again, sensing something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Should I, uh… come back later?”

“No,” Killian said, still watching me. “We’re done.”

I felt my chest tighten. “So… that’s it?”

He didn’t answer right away. Then, finally, he walked back to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled something out. A golder, thick with papers. He flipped through it with mechanical ease before sliding a single sheet out and placing it in front of him.

“Sign this,” he said.

I stepped closer, reading over the document. It wasn’t a contract. Not yet. Just an acknowledgment of preliminary employment, something that would allow me to get started while the rest of the paperwork was processed.

At the bottom was the amount.

It wasn’t much.

But it would be enough.

My fingers trembled as I picked up the pen, ignoring the weight of both men watching me. I signed my name with the steadiness of someone hanging off the edge of a cliff, hoping the rope would hold.

When I looked up, Killian was already closing the folder again.

“You start tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, the words escaping before I could stop them.

But he didn’t nod. Didn’t smile. He only looked at me, quiet and unreadable.

As I turned to leave, Theo gave me a soft smile. “See you around?”

I managed the smallest nod, then walked out without looking back.

The second I stepped into the elevator, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My reflection in the mirrored wall looked like a ghost—tired, gray, hollowed out by the last two days.

I didn’t know if this was the right decision.

I only knew I was out of time to keep pretending I had another choice.