CHAPTER 3

SCARLETT FOSTER

The clock on the wall read six-fifteen in the evening. The bustling noise of the corporate office had gradually died down, replaced by the low hum of vacuum cleaners in the hallway. My first official day as the executive assistant to the CEO of Montgomery Enterprises was finally over—or so I had naively hoped.

I was packing my belongings into my purse when the phone on my desk rang. The sharp, mechanical chime echoed through the empty reception area.

I took a deep breath, picking up the receiver. "Scarlett Foster speaking."

"My office. Now," Caleb’s voice came through the speaker, crisp and commanding, before the line cut out with a dull click.

I stared at the receiver for a second, my pulse instantly spiking. All day, I had managed to keep my distance. I had sorted through his emails, scheduled his calls, and coordinated his meetings with surgical precision, keeping every interaction cold, polite, and brief. I had treated him purely as my boss, pretending that the ghost of our past wasn't looming over every wooden cabinet and glass table in this building.

Now, after office hours, the professional shield felt dangerously thin.

I smoothed down my pencil skirt, grabbed my tablet, and walked toward the heavy double doors at the end of the private corridor. I knocked twice.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Caleb’s private office was vast, dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the glittering city skyline. He was sitting behind his wide executive desk, his dark hair slightly rumpled, his tie loosened at the collar. He had discarded his suit jacket, leaving him in a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

He didn't look like an untouchable billionaire at that moment. He looked like the man who used to hold me in the middle of the night, whispering promises he ended up breaking.

"You called for me, Mr. Montgomery?" I stood straight near the entrance, holding the tablet tightly against my chest. "If there are more files that need reviewing, I can take them home and submit them by eight tomorrow morning."

Caleb slowly leaned back in his leather chair. His intense gray eyes locked onto mine, tracking every subtle movement of my face. "Close the door, Scarlett."

"I prefer to keep it open," I replied instantly. "It's past working hours, and if this isn't strictly about business—"

"Close the door," he repeated, his tone softer this time, but carrying a heavy weight that left no room for negotiation.

I swallowed the stubborn lump in my throat, turned around, and pushed the heavy wooden door shut until it clicked. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Caleb stood up from his chair and walked out from behind his desk. He didn't stop until he was standing just a few paces away from me. The rich scent of his cologne filled the small space between us, making my head spin with memories I had spent five years trying to bury.

"Why are you doing this, Caleb?" I burst out, the professional mask finally cracking. "Why did you hire me?"

He didn't blink. "You were the most qualified candidate for the job."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" My voice rose, raw with emotions I had locked away for half a decade. "You own half this city! You could have hired anyone—someone with decades of experience, someone who didn't come to an interview soaked from the rain! But you signed that paper the moment you saw my name."

I stepped closer to him, my fists clenching at my sides as the anger flared in my chest. "Was it pity? Did you look at me and think, 'Oh, look at poor Scarlett, struggling to survive, let me play savior'? Is this some twisted game to show me how far you've climbed while I lost everything?"

Caleb didn't flinch at my raised voice. He stood there, taking in my rage like a man who had been expecting the storm for years.

"It wasn't pity," he said quietly, his voice dropping an octave.

"Then what was it?" I demanded, tears of frustration burning behind my eyes. "Five years ago, you packed your things, turned off your phone, and vanished. You left me in a tiny apartment with unpaid rent, no explanation, and a broken heart. You erased me like I was nothing! And now you bring me into your empire, hand me a contract, and expect me to act like you're just my boss?"

I took a shaky breath, trying to regain control over my trembling voice. "I took this job because I was desperate. I was hours away from living in my car. But if you think I'm going to stand here and let you pretend that nothing happened, you're wrong."

Caleb closed the distance between us in two long strides. Before I could back away, his hand reached out, his long fingers hesitating for a fraction of a second before gently brushing a strand of dark hair away from my face. His touch was warm, sending a violent shockwave straight down my spine.

"Do you really think I forgot?" he whispered, his gray eyes darkening with an intensity that made my heart hammer wildly against my ribs. "Do you honestly believe I walked away and just lived my life as if you never existed, Scarlett?"

"You didn't look back," I whispered, hating how fragile my voice sounded.

"Because if I looked back, I never would have left," Caleb confessed, his voice laced with a bitter, raw pain that caught me completely off guard. "I thought about you every single day for five years. I looked for you. And the moment you walked through that door yesterday, looking at me like you hated my guts... I knew I couldn't let you slip through my fingers again."

My breath hitched. The cold, aloof CEO was completely gone, replaced by the man whose absence had shattered my world.

He stepped back, breaking the physical contact, though his gaze remained pinned to mine. "Hate me all you want, Scarlett. Call it a game, call it whatever makes it easier for you to sleep at night. But you're staying here."

He picked up a thick leather-bound binder from his desk and held it out to me. "We have a private dinner with the board members at eight tonight. Go change into something appropriate. My driver is waiting downstairs."