THE JOB THAT WASN'T A JOB

💎 CHAPTER THREE — THE JOB THAT WASN’T A JOB

The interior of the SUV felt like another world—cool, quiet, smelling faintly of leather and something expensive. Amara sat stiffly, her hands folded in her lap, watching the city blur past the tinted windows. Dante sat beside her, calm and unreadable, as if riding with strangers was a normal part of his morning.

She swallowed. “Where are we going?”

“To my office,” he replied simply.

“Your office?” She frowned. “For what?”

“For your job interview.”

Amara blinked. “But you already said—”

“I said I had something for you,” he cut in smoothly. “But I don’t hire carelessly. You’ll still be tested.”

She looked away. Of course. Rich people never did anything without rules, complications, and hidden motives.

At least she would hear the offer before agreeing.

Still, something about the situation didn’t feel... normal.

She clasped her hands tightly as the car pulled into the central business district. Tall glass buildings reflected the early morning sun, and security officers in dark uniforms stood at every entrance.

Definitely not normal.

Dante’s SUV stopped in front of a towering silver building that looked like it touched the clouds.

People in suits paused and stared as Dante stepped out.

He didn’t seem to notice the attention. Or maybe he was used to it.

He opened the door for her again. “Come.”

His tone wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t cold either. More like a command wrapped in politeness.

Amara stepped out, suddenly hyper-aware of her worn sandals and slightly faded blouse.

Dante looked at her outfit once—just once—and then spoke quietly.

“You won’t wear this again.”

She stiffened. “There’s nothing wrong with my clothes.”

“There isn’t.” His eyes softened slightly. “But they don’t match where you’re going.”

Before she could respond, he entered the building. She followed, heart pounding, trying not to stare at the marble floors, gold railings, and walls decorated with massive digital screens.

This place was another universe.

Workers bowed slightly when Dante passed.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, sir.”

Everyone knew him. Everyone respected him. Everyone feared him.

Amara whispered, “Who exactly are you?”

Dante didn’t slow down. “Someone who needs you to listen more than you question.”

Not an answer. Which scared her more.

They stepped into a private elevator. Dante pressed a button labeled **PH**—Penthouse.

The elevator shot upward so fast her ears popped.

For several seconds, there was only silence. Then Dante finally spoke.

“You saved my life yesterday,” he said quietly. “You changed something.”

“Anyone would have helped,” she muttered.

“No,” he replied, looking directly at her. “Most people would have stared. You ran into danger without thinking.” A faint, unreadable expression crossed his face. “Not many people like you exist.”

Something warm flickered in her chest… but she pushed it away. She didn’t need warmth. She needed money.

When the elevator doors opened, they revealed an office larger than the entire compound where she lived. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the whole city. A long glass desk sat in the center, surrounded by black leather chairs.

It was breathtaking.

A woman in a navy suit approached immediately.

“Good morning, Mr. Dante. The meeting with the board is ready. Also—” The woman paused when she noticed Amara. Her eyes scanned her from head to toe. “Sir, should I prepare—?”

“She’s with me,” Dante said sharply.

The woman swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Amara felt out of place and exposed. “This is a mistake,” she whispered. “I don’t belong here.”

Dante turned to her. “You belong wherever I say you belong.”

Her lips parted slightly. His confidence was dangerous. Beautiful… but dangerous.

He walked around his desk and opened a file. “Sit.”

She obeyed, sitting opposite him.

Dante leaned back in his chair, studying her.

“Amara,” he said slowly, “I need someone who isn’t from my world. Someone my enemies won’t recognize.”

She froze. “Enemies?”

“Every powerful man has some.” His tone was flat, calm, almost casual.

Her heartbeat quickened. “What exactly will I be doing?”

“Running errands. Managing schedules. Covering up distractions. Staying close when necessary.” He paused, tapping a pen lightly against the desk. “And keeping your mouth shut.”

That last part hung heavily in the air.

Amara swallowed hard. “Is… is this dangerous?”

Dante leaned forward. “Everything around me is dangerous. The question is—” His grey eyes pierced into hers. “—can you handle it?”

She looked down at her trembling hands.

Could she?

She wasn’t brave. She wasn’t strong. She was just a desperate woman trying to save her brother.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Then let me help you find out.”

He rose from his chair and walked to a small cabinet. When he returned, he handed her a file.

Inside was a contract. And written boldly at the top:

**Personal Executive Assistant — Confidential Role** **Monthly Salary: ₦350,000** **Housing Allowance Provided** **Medical Fees Covered** **Immediate Payment: ₦150,000 Advance**

Her breath caught.

The exact amount she needed for Chika.

Her vision blurred with tears. She blinked rapidly to clear them.

“Why?” she whispered. “Why give me this much?”

Dante’s voice softened. “Because you deserve it. And because I repay my debts. Fully.”

She stared at the paper. The money could save Chika. It could cover rent. It could give her time to breathe again.

But…

Her eyes lifted to Dante’s face.

He was still watching her—calm, intense, unreadable.

“Tell me the truth,” she said. “If I sign this, what am I really getting myself into?”

Dante didn’t blink. “Me.”

Her breath hitched.

He stepped closer.

“My world. My rules. My enemies. My shadows.” His voice dropped lower. “It won’t be easy. It won’t be safe. But it will change everything.”

Her heart beat faster and faster.

“Amara,” he said quietly, “do you trust me?”

Trust?

She wasn’t sure. But she was sure of one thing:

**Her brother needed her.**

She picked up the pen.

Her hand shook… But she signed.

Dante exhaled slowly, as if he’d been waiting.

“Good,” he said, gently closing the file. “Your life begins now.”