CHAPTER 3- THE JOB INTERVIEW

The man who’d once terrified me with his silence. The man whose eyes could burn and freeze you in the same glance.

Of all people in the world, it had to be him.

He looked at me, those dark eyes glinting with something I couldn’t name. His lips curved in a knowing smirk.

“Well,” he said slowly, voice low and smooth, “I didn’t expect to see you this soon.”

My stomach twisted. Did he know?

I straightened my shoulders. “Please, sir, don’t mix business with personal history.”

“Oh?” he murmured, the smirk deepening. “So now you’re going to tell me how to run my business?”

I swallowed hard, heart racing.

This wasn’t how I imagined my comeback. Not even close.

There was something in the way he stared at me- calm, assessing, almost predatory- that made my skin crawl.

It wasn’t lust, not exactly. It was the way a man looked when he was used to control.

But I refused to let it get to me. Whether he liked it or not, I was going to get this job.

I straightened my shoulders and forced on a professional smile. “Good morning, sir.”

His eyes stayed on me, unreadable.

I tried to focus on my words, not the strange electricity humming in the air.

The last time I’d seen Alexander Bells was completely by accident. Ethan and I had been shopping at one of their flagship stores when he spotted his father.

“Dad, this is my girlfriend, Aria,” Ethan had said proudly.

We’d shaken hands. His grip was firm, his gaze steady. I remembered thinking, so this is what power feels like up close.

That was the first and only time we met.

So, technically, this was our second meeting, but it felt like the first that actually mattered.

And the irony? I wasn’t his son’s girlfriend anymore.

I took a breath and started my introduction. “I’m Aria Dane, sir. A writer.”

He didn’t blink.

I continued, determined. “I’ve ghostwritten several bestselling novels- romance, thriller, and fantasy. My words have made other people rich and famous, but I’ve always stayed behind the curtain. I took a break from it all for personal reasons, but I’m ready to get back to doing what I love.”

Still no reaction. His poker face was legendary, apparently.

I pressed on, my voice steadier than I felt. “I believe an internship here at Voss Publishing would help me grow to my full potential. I’m not asking for favors, just an opportunity to prove myself.”

When I finished, silence filled the room.

He didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even look impressed.

My stomach twisted, but I held my ground. I’d already been humiliated once this week. I wasn’t going to crumble again.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair, his tone smooth but cold. “What else?”

The question threw me off. What else? I’d just sold my entire soul in that speech.

“Sir…” I started quietly. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but whatever happened between your son and me—it’s over. I’m not here to stir up anything personal. I really… really need this job.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I hated how vulnerable they sounded.

But it was the truth.

His expression didn’t change, but I caught the faintest flicker in his eyes — curiosity, maybe? Amusement? I couldn’t tell.

All I knew was that the air between us felt heavier than before.

He stood up from his chair.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Then he walked toward me until there was barely an arm’s length between us. I could feel his cologne- clean, dark, and expensive- seeping into my lungs.

“Miss…” he started.

“Aria,” I interrupted quickly, trying to sound confident even though my voice trembled.

“Right.” His gaze didn’t waver. “Miss Aria.” He paused, his tone turning razor-sharp. “Now that I think of it… considering your past relationship with my son, do you honestly believe you’re worthy of working here? If my son didn’t find you worthy enough to keep as a girlfriend, what makes you think you’re worthy enough to work for me?”

His words cut through me like glass.

Useless. That’s what he’d just called me, dressed up in sophisticated cruelty.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.

I simply smiled- a weak, practiced smile- and held his gaze. Because I needed this job more than I needed my pride.

Inside, though, I was bleeding.

He stared at me for a moment longer before exhaling quietly. “But…” He tapped the folder on his desk. “Your credentials are… impressive. So, here’s what I’ll do. You’ll be on a one-month probation. If your supervisor deems you worthy of the position, you can stay. Do you accept or reject this offer?”

My chest flooded with relief so strong I almost forgot to breathe. “I accept, sir,” I said quickly, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. “Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”

His lips curved- not quite a smile, but something close. “You don’t have to thank me yet,” he said in a low, teasing voice. “It’s just a probationary offer.”

That tone: half mockery, half challenge: lingered even after I turned to leave.

Outside, the receptionist shot me a knowing side-eye. The kind that said poor, desperate thing.

I understood perfectly, but I just smiled and walked past her, holding my head high.

By the time I got into the taxi, the adrenaline started wearing off. My hands trembled slightly on my lap, but my heart was light. I did it. I actually did it.

When I got home, I dialed Tracy immediately. My childhood best friend.

We hadn’t really been close lately, not since my ex and that manipulative ex–best friend of mine came into the picture and turned everything messy. Ethan had hated me keeping female friends, especially Tracy. Said she was a “bad influence.” Said Chrissy was more his kind of girl- polite, polished, quiet.

What a joke.

The moment Tracy answered, she screamed through the phone. “Girl! I was literally thinking about you today! Congratulations!”

I laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thanks, Tracy. You won’t believe the kind of humiliation I just swallowed to get this job.”

We ended up talking for over an hour, just like old times- gossiping, laughing, catching up on everything we’d missed. When we finally hung up, I felt lighter.

I hummed as I walked into my tiny kitchen to fix myself a meal, replaying the day over and over again.

From humiliation to hope, all in the span of one conversation with a man who looked at me like he was trying to figure out what I was made of.

And for some reason, that thought refused to leave my head.

The week went by in a blur, and before I knew it, it was Monday.