Chapter 1 The Unexpected Meeting

NOVA'S POV

The email from my scholarship advisor had arrived on a Tuesday morning, the subject line flagged as urgent… 

“” Exceptional Opportunity–Rochefort Global.”” 

I'd read it three times before the words actually penetrated. A temporary administrative position. Three months. Working directly under the executive management team of one of the most powerful corporations in the country. My advisor, Dr. Chen, had written that they specifically requested someone from our program… someone with discretion, intelligence, and the kind of hunger that came from having nothing to lose.

The pay alone would cover my tuition for the next two semesters.

I'd accepted before I could talk myself out of it.

Now, standing in the marble foyer of the Rochefort estate on a Friday afternoon, I was reconsidering that decision with something approaching panic. The building itself seemed designed to intimidate… soaring ceilings that disappeared into shadow, floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the city like a painting, and an architectural precision that suggested every angle had been calculated to make visitors feel small.

My shoes, which had seemed professional enough in my apartment, clicked too loudly against the polished floors.

A woman at the front desk… all blonde efficiency and designer glasses… had pointed me toward the executive wing without looking up from her computer. "Mr. Rochefort is expecting you," she'd said, as if powerful men regularly scheduled meetings with scholarship students they'd never met.

As I navigated the corridors, my reflection kept appearing in the glass panels that lined the walls. A girl in a navy blazer that was probably two seasons old. Hair pulled back in a style that was meant to look professional but mostly looked like I was trying too hard. The kind of person who didn't belong in places like this.

The kind of person who was about to embarrass herself.

I was so focused on not tripping that I almost didn't notice him until I'd nearly walked into the mahogany doorframe he was leaning against.

He moved with the kind of casual grace that suggested he'd never once questioned his right to take up space. Black suit, tailored so precisely it had to have cost more than my monthly rent. White dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the beginning of a chest that made my mouth go dry in a way I didn't want to examine. His hair was dark, swept back from a face that had the kind of sharp symmetry usually reserved for people who didn't have to work for their looks.

But it was his eyes that stopped me completely. Grey. Not a soft grey, but something closer to steel… the kind of colour that looked cold until you noticed the intelligence burning behind it.

Myles Rochefort looked at me like he could see through skin and bone directly into whatever I was trying so desperately to hide.

"Nova Harlow." His voice was low and measured, each word placed with precision. "I've been expecting you."

I forced my expression into something resembling confidence. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Rochefort. I'm… "

"Grateful?" A smile curved the corner of his mouth, but it wasn't a warm expression. It was the smile of someone who'd just confirmed a suspicion. "I can see that."

Heat bloomed across my cheeks, and I hated myself for the reaction. Of course he'd noticed my nervousness. Men like him always noticed everything.

"I'm eager to contribute," I amended, trying to recover ground I hadn't realized I'd already lost.

He pushed off from the doorframe and started walking deeper into the estate, clearly expecting me to follow. I did, my pulse quickening with each step. The corridor opened into an office that was less a workspace and more a study in controlled power… all dark wood and leather, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined walls like intellectual currency, and windows that overlooked the city spreading out beneath us like something he owned.

He moved behind an obsidian desk and gestured for me to sit. I did, perching on the edge of the chair like I might need to flee at any moment… which, given the way he was studying me, felt like a reasonable precaution.

"I reviewed your application," he said, his fingers moving across the desk to open a file. My file. The casual way he'd said it… like he'd memorized every detail… sent a flutter through my stomach that I couldn't quite name. "Scholarship student. Exceptional grades. Work-study at the university library. No emergency contact listed."

My jaw tightened. That particular blank space represented years I didn't discuss, circumstances I'd learned not to explain.

"I'm independent," I said carefully.

"So it appears." He closed the file and folded his hands on the desktop, those grey eyes never leaving mine. "That's either admirable or foolish. I haven't yet decided which."

There was a quality to his voice that suggested he rarely remained undecided about anything. I met his gaze, refusing to look away first, and something flickered across his expression… surprise, perhaps, or a flicker of approval. It was gone too quickly to identify.

"Your role here will be unconventional," he continued, standing and moving around the desk. I watched him move with the fluid grace of someone completely comfortable with power. "You'll be assisting me with sensitive corporate matters. I require absolute discretion, absolute competence, and someone who understands that what happens within these walls stays within these walls."

"I understand," I said quietly.

"Do you?" He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could smell him… something expensive and dark, like cedarwood and smoke. "Because I need to know that you comprehend the full scope of what confidentiality means in this context."

I swallowed hard. "Complete confidentiality."

"Exactly." He leaned against the edge of his desk, positioning himself so that maintaining eye contact required a deliberate effort on my part. From this angle, I could see the sharp line of his jaw, the shadow of stubble, the way the afternoon light caught the silver in his eyes. "I don't hire people easily, Nova. And I certainly don't tolerate mistakes. But I do value potential."

The way he said my name… slowly, deliberately, as if testing how it felt in his mouth… sent a spark of awareness through me that I immediately tried to suppress.

"What kind of potential?" I asked.

"The kind that requires careful cultivation." He extended his hand to help me up. I took it without thinking, and the contact was immediate and electric… warm skin, controlled strength, and something else I couldn't quite name. My arm tingled where we connected, a sensation that spiraled upward into my chest with alarming intensity.

I stood, and suddenly we were much closer than was strictly professional. Close enough that I had to tilt my head to maintain eye contact. Close enough to realize that his eyes weren't entirely Grey… there were flecks of something darker in them, something that looked almost like hunger.

"You're wondering why I called you in person," he said. Not a question.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Because I needed to see you." His thumb traced a slow circle across my knuckles, and my breath caught involuntarily. "Your credentials are impressive, but there's something else. Something I sensed reading between the lines of your application that I needed to confirm in person."

My heart was racing now, thundering against my ribs in a way that felt dangerous. "What?"

His gaze dropped to my lips for just a moment, barely perceptible, but enough to send a spike of awareness through my entire body. When he looked back up at my eyes, there was something predatory in his expression.