Chapter Two: The First Day

Amelia

I should have known better.

The second the words I’ll do it left my mouth, something in Dominic’s eyes shifted — a flicker of satisfaction so dark it made my stomach twist. I didn’t even have time to process it before he was already moving, tapping a button on his desk phone.

“Marissa, send up the paperwork,” he said. His gaze never left mine.

I didn’t know who Marissa was, but within minutes, a tall, no-nonsense woman in head-to-toe black strode into the office, a thick folder in hand. She spared me a single glance — the kind that sized you up and dismissed you in the same breath — before setting the folder on the desk.

“I assume she’ll need a badge and company email,” Marissa said, arching a brow.

“She’ll have everything by the end of the day,” Dominic replied. “Schedule a meeting with legal to finalize the NDA.”

My stomach dipped. NDA?

I should have asked what the hell I was signing up for. But I didn’t. Because some reckless, deeply stupid part of me was still trying to prove something — to myself, to him, to the version of me that packed up her life three weeks ago and left everything familiar behind.

Dominic slid the folder toward me. “Sign.”

There was no please. No explanation. Just that one word, spoken like a command.

I should have hesitated. Should have asked what the NDA covered, what kind of assistant work this actually entailed, or why a man like Dominic Blackwood — with his wealth and reputation — didn’t already have a seasoned executive assistant.

But the air between us crackled, heavy with challenge. And I knew if I walked away now, I’d regret it.

So I signed.

The second my pen hit the paper, his expression softened by a fraction. “Your office is next door,” he said. “Marissa will show you the way. Don’t be late tomorrow.”

He was already looking down at his computer, dismissing me like an afterthought.

I stood, gathering what was left of my pride. “Noted.”

And then I walked out, pulse pounding.

---

The office Marissa led me to was nothing like I expected. No cozy assistant’s nook or shared cubicle. Instead, it was a sleek, glass-walled space adjacent to Dominic’s own, with a minimal desk, a high-end computer, and a view of the city that would’ve made anyone else jealous.

But all I saw were the walls closing in.

“Here’s your login,” Marissa said, dropping a packet of papers on my desk. “Schedule’s loaded into the calendar. He hates being interrupted unless it’s urgent. Don’t call him Dom. Don’t touch his coffee order. And for God’s sake, don’t be late.”

She left without another word.

I sank into the leather chair, letting my head fall back for a beat as I stared at the ceiling. What the hell have I done?

It wasn’t until my phone buzzed in my bag that I remembered to breathe.

A text from Nathan.

NATHAN: Good luck today, kid. You’ll kill it.

I stared at the message for a long time, guilt twisting in my stomach. He didn’t know. Couldn’t know. That whatever this was with Dominic already felt like stepping into something dangerous.

I opened the calendar on my computer. Back-to-back meetings, calls with overseas clients, and a dinner reservation for two at an upscale restaurant downtown. No names listed.

I frowned.

The office door clicked open, and there he was again — all dark suit and sharper eyes.

“I’ll need you at dinner tonight,” he said, leaning against the frame. “Eight sharp. Dress accordingly.”

I straightened. “Dinner? I thought—”

“It’s work,” he cut in. “Consider it part of the job.”

Before I could protest, he was gone again.

And all I could think, staring after him, was what the hell have I gotten myself into?