CHAPTER THREE- THE FIRST TEST

The next morning. Aiden arrived early, even earlier than Clarissa.

It was still quiet on the floor–no footsteps, no chatter. Just the low hum of systems coming to life and the early sun that made the marble glow yellow.

He liked it that way. Empty. Clean.

Uncomplicated.

He powered up his desk and scanned through the files. Nothing added overnight, but his gut said something was coming. Julian hadn't called him again after yesterday's brief exchange. But something in a way he watched–without watching; left Aiden restless. Anticipating.

By 9.00 am, the office was full. Clarissa moved like a ghost in heels. Carter flirted his way past Aiden's desk.

At 9.30 am, the door opened. Julian Vince walked in with his usual perfect silence.

Tailored charcoal suit. Black tie. White shirt, well-ironed and crisp. He didn't carry anything, but he never did.

He gave no greetings, just went straight into his office. The glass door clicked shut.

Five minutes later, it opened again.

“Shaw." He said without looking. "Inside”

Aiden grabbed his notepad and sent in.

Julian gestured to the wall screen. A brand deck was already loaded.

“This is Sonder,” he said. “A digital travel start-up. Big potential, bad direction. We’re rebranding their entire global presence.”

“Okay,” Aiden said, already flipping through slides. Clean design. Weak positioning.

“You’ll be leading the concept proposal.”

That made Aiden’s eyes lift. “I thought I was assisting.”

Julian finally looked at him. “Consider this your pressure test.”

He turned and walked to the table by the window, where a slim leather-bound folder sat waiting.

“You’ll pitch to internal review on Friday. Three days. I want strategy, visuals, and a full mock rollout.”

Aiden took the folder. “That’s tight.”

Julian’s gaze flicked to him. “You’ll manage.”

“I’ll have to.”

Julian’s mouth twitched. Not a smile, not quite.

“You’ll have full access to the team, except on Thursday. You’ll be shadowing me at the investor summit.”

Aiden blinked. “I wasn’t told…”

“You are now.”

His tone was still smooth, but the finality was sharp.

Aiden held the folder tighter. “Right. Noted.”

Julian stepped closer, close enough that Aiden could smell the faint hint of cologne, clean, expensive, cool.

“I want to see what happens when you’re forced to lead without time to polish. I want your instincts, not your presentation skills.”

“You’ll get both.”

Julian’s eyes held him for just a second too long.

“Good,” he said.

By noon, Aiden had hijacked a corner table in the third-floor lounge, his screen open, sketches already forming on the tablet. He worked with headphones in, zoning out everything else.

But Carter still managed to show up.

“Already in over your head?” he said, dropping into the opposite chair.

Aiden didn’t look up. “Is that a question or just your resting tone?”

Carter grinned. “He gave you Sonder, didn’t he?”

Aiden finally glanced up. “He did.”

“That’s brutal for week one. He’s testing you.”

“I figured.”

Carter moved closer and spoke quietly. "You realize he doesn’t do this for just anybody, right?" Vince usually ignores newbies for at least a month. Then he tears their ideas apart in front of the board.”

Aiden raised a brow. “Sounds nurturing.”

“I think he likes breaking people down to their core. See what survives.”

Aiden smirked. “Let him try.”

That night, Aiden stayed late.

Most people went home. The room was dark and quiet. But he didn’t stop...he kept drawing and typing notes.

At some point, footsteps approached.

He looked up.

Julian stood there, no jacket now, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal forearms and a faint sheen of exhaustion.

“Still here,” he said, without surprise.

“Deadlines don’t care about bedtimes.”

Julian’s gaze flicked to his screen. “Show me.”

Aiden hesitated. But then turned the screen.

Julian stepped in close, leaning down just slightly. Close enough for Aiden to feel the air shift. His scent again—clean, cool, unsettling.

The design showed a minimalist interface with dynamic shadows that followed cursor movement. Immersive, fluid, aimed at an audience hungry for experience and motion.

Julian’s silence stretched.

Then, quietly: “You understand mood. That’s rare.”

Aiden looked at him. “Thanks.”

Julian’s eyes hadn’t moved from the screen.

“Most people sell function. You’re selling feeling.”

Aiden tried not to notice how near Julian’s shoulder was. Or the way his tie hung just slightly loosened, the collar unbuttoned beneath. The sharp edge of his jawline, softened by the amber office light.

He turned back to his screen.

“You said you wanted instinct.”

Julian’s voice dropped. “And this is yours?”

“Yes.”

Julian straightened.

“Then follow it. Trust it. Let it bleed into everything you do.”

Their eyes met again. Longer this time. No smirks. The room was totally quiet, but felt weird...

Then Julian’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked away, checked it, then stepped back.

“I expect a full concept board on my desk by morning,” he said, already walking toward the elevator.

“Are you going home?”

Julian paused at the door.

“No,” he said. “Nothing is waiting there.”

Then he disappeared down the hall.

Aiden stayed another hour, but his focus was gone. Julian’s words stuck to the inside of his head like honey on glass.

There’s nothing waiting there.

What kind of man says that? With that tone? That stillness?

Aiden finally left the building, it was almost midnight. As he was almost halfway down the block, he reached for his pocket and found out he left his notebook on his desk.

He turned back, already frustrated. He showed his ID to the night guard watching the building. And went into the elevator and rode back up.

The floor was dark now. Quiet.

He moved through it quickly, heading towards his desk.

And stopped.

Julian's office light was on.

The door wasn't locked.

Aiden stepped closer, as his heart was beating faster than he wanted to admit.

Julian was inside.

Alone.

But not sitting, and wasn't working either.

He stood by the window. Pressed one of his hands on the glass, his tie was gone, his shirt tattered… looking very tense.

Aiden froze. Couldn't believe his eyes.

Julian didn't move.

For the first time, the calm was gone.

He looked… wrecked.

No control. No mask. Just a man in the dark, staring down at the city he was supposed to conquer.

Aiden stepped back slowly, silent.

He picked up his notebook and left without a sound.

But the image followed him into the elevator.

And all the way home.