Ruined By Mr. Cross

Selene/ Elena's Pov

“You really think you can walk into Cross Technologies and not get eaten alive, Miss Hale?”

I looked straight at the HR woman across the desk, my pulse hammering but my smile steady. “I don’t just think it. I know it. Your luxury division needs someone who understands old money clients. That’s me.”

She tapped her pen, eyes narrowing like she was trying to place my face. Good luck with that. Three years, a new name, and enough distance from New York had changed me on the outside. Inside, the hate still burned hot.

“Impressive résumé,” she said finally. “Mr. Cross himself approved the final interview. He’s… particular.”

My stomach twisted at his name, but I kept my voice light. “I’m counting on that.”

“Most candidates sweat when they hear his name. You don’t. Why is that?” she asked, leaning forward.

I shrugged with a small smile. “Because I’ve dealt with difficult men before. My previous clients were demanding, but I delivered results. I’m not here to impress anyone. I’m here to win deals.”

She nodded slowly. “Bold. I like that. Let me walk you to the conference room. Mr. Cross doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Two hours later I was sitting in a glass conference room on the top floor, legs crossed, pretending to check notes while my mind raced. This was it. The first real step. Damien Cross had destroyed my family, and now I was going to return the favor from the inside.

The door opened.

I didn’t look up immediately. I wanted the extra second to steady myself. When I finally raised my eyes, the air left my lungs.

He was taller than the photos suggested, shoulders filling the dark suit like he owned gravity itself. Sharp jaw, darker hair, and those icy gray eyes that seemed to cut right through pretense. Damien Cross.

“Elena Hale,” he said, voice low and controlled. He didn’t offer a handshake. “You come highly recommended. Why do you want to work here?”

I met his gaze. “Because your competitors are boring. You aren’t.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, gone in a heartbeat. “Flattery won’t close deals, Miss Hale.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

He sat down across from me and folded his hands on the table. “Tell me about your last position. How did you handle the Montgomery account when they tried to pull out at the last minute?”

I leaned forward slightly. “I reminded them what loyalty looks like in this industry. I flew out the same night, sat in their boardroom at 7 a.m., and showed them three new partnership angles they hadn’t considered. They not only stayed—they doubled their order. Results matter more than panic.”

Damien’s eyes never left mine. “Impressive. But Cross Technologies isn’t Montgomery. We play in a different league. One mistake here can cost millions. Are you prepared for that kind of pressure?”

“Mr. Cross, I thrive under pressure,” I replied calmly. “What about you? How do you handle it when someone inside your own company starts questioning your decisions?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me questions in my own interview?”

“Why not? If I’m going to work directly under you, I should know how you operate. Or do you prefer people who just nod and smile?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “Most people wouldn’t dare speak to me like that on their first meeting. You’re either very confident or very reckless.”

“Maybe both,” I said. “But I get things done. That’s what you need right now, isn’t it? Someone who can repair the damage from those recent lost deals.”

Damien’s gaze sharpened. “You’ve done your research. Those deals were supposed to be confidential. How exactly did you hear about them?”

I smiled. “I make it my business to know things. The Thompson deal fell through because your team pushed too hard. The clients felt disrespected. I could have salvaged it.”

“Could have?” he challenged. “You sound sure of yourself.”

“I am. Give me a chance and I’ll prove it. Or are you afraid a new consultant might show up the current team?”

Damien’s gaze sharpened. “Careful, Miss Hale. I don’t respond well to challenges.”

“Yet here you are, still talking to me,” I countered. “That tells me you need what I bring to the table.”

He leaned back, studying me for a long moment. “Walk me through how you’d approach a high-net-worth client who’s hesitant to commit because of market volatility. Be specific.”

I didn’t hesitate. “First, I’d stop talking numbers and start talking about legacy. These people don’t buy products—they buy continuity. I’d show them how partnering with Cross secures their family’s name for the next two generations, not just this quarter. Then I’d bring in exclusive data from our private intelligence unit that competitors don’t have. Make them feel like insiders. Fear fades when they feel superior.”

Damien nodded slowly. “And if they still push back?”

“Then I remind them what happens to those who walk away from us,” I said evenly. “Politely, of course. No one wants to be on the outside when the next big merger drops.”

He tapped his fingers on the table. “You’re ruthless. I respect that. But loyalty matters here more than clever tactics. Have you ever had to choose between a big payout and doing what’s right for the company?”

“Every single day in my last role,” I answered. “I chose the company. That’s why I’m sitting here instead of still working for them. They wanted shortcuts. I don’t do shortcuts.”

Damien’s expression remained unreadable. “What drives you, Miss Hale? Money? Power? Recognition?”

I held his stare. “Justice. When someone destroys what others built, I believe in balance. Fair outcomes. That’s rarer than you think in this city.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Justice,” he repeated, almost like he was tasting the word. “An unusual answer for someone in luxury consulting.”

“Maybe that’s why I stand out,” I replied. “You already have plenty of people chasing money and status. You need someone who sees the bigger picture.”

The room fell quiet for a few seconds. Damien finally spoke again. “Tell me about a time you failed. And don’t give me some rehearsed corporate answer.”

I paused, letting real memory surface without revealing too much. “Three years ago I trusted the wrong person in a deal. It cost me everything I thought I had. I learned never to ignore red flags, no matter how charming they look. I rebuilt from zero after that. Stronger.”

Something shifted in his eyes. “We all have ghosts, don’t we?”

“Some more than others,” I said softly.

“You remind me of someone,” he said quietly.

My heart stuttered. “Lots of people look alike in this city.”

He didn’t reply right away. Instead he slid a folder across the table. “You start Monday. Welcome to Cross Technologies.”

I took the folder, fingers brushing his for a split second. Electricity shot up my arm. I hated it.

As I stood to leave, he spoke again. “One more thing, Miss Hale. I don’t tolerate secrets. If you’re hiding anything, I’ll find out.”

I smiled sweetly. “I could say the same to you, Mr. Cross.”

I walked out before he could answer, but I felt his eyes on my back the entire way.