CHAPTER 3: THE INTERVIEW

CHAPTER 3: THE INTERVIEW

“Unbelievable!” I hissed, my voice echoing off the cold tiles of the restroom.

I’d been hiding in here for thirty minutes, unable to shake the humiliation burning through my veins. I felt safe enough to vent; no one had entered since I locked myself in.

He’s a jerk. A total, arrogant BUSIT!

I caught my reflection in the massive mirror. My face was flushed, the outrage still simmering beneath the surface. How dare he mock and insult me in front of everyone? Does he even have a soul?

I set my resume on the edge of the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on my face. It didn't help. The fire in my chest was still roaring.

If we ever cross paths again, I’ll make him taste the Marquez wrath.

My eyes drifted back to my white folder. In a fit of frustration, I tried to wipe the scuff mark off the paper with a dry tissue, but it only smeared the grime further.

“Great. Just perfect,” I muttered.

“Just apply, Amara. Don’t let your future be ruined by one chauvinistic prick.” I gave myself a mental pep talk.

He acted like he owned the place, but he was probably just some high-level employee with an ego problem.

Or was he?

Doesn't matter. I’m doing this.

After a quick retouch and a deep breath, I walked out of the restroom with a new sense of determination. If he thought he could scare me off, he had another thing coming.

As I approached the reception desk to ask for the HR department, a woman intercepted me. She looked about my age—tall, pale, with sharp eyes and an intimidatingly formal aura. She had a stern, robotic look that felt out of place with her beautiful features.

“Miss Amara Marquez?” she asked.

I nodded.

“You are thirty minutes late. Follow me,” she said flatly, turning toward the same executive elevator the man had used earlier.

I hesitated but followed.

The elevator opened to an empty, silent hallway. Huge glass walls surrounded us, flooding the space with natural light and offering a panoramic view of the BGC skyline.

It was breathtaking. I found myself lagging behind, mesmerized by the view, until I realized she was already standing at a pair of massive double doors made of dark, heavy oak.

“We are here, Miss Amara,” she said, turning to look me dead in the eye. “And before you enter, let me remind you...

The Nexus knows everything.”

Confused, I simply nodded. I watched her walk away before turning back to the door.

You can do this, Amara.

With trembling hands, I turned the knob.

The office was staggering. To one side, a bar displayed rows of expensive crystal and spirits; on the other, a minimalist lounge for private meetings. The room felt masculine—dominated by shades of white, black, and deep brown. The air smelled of expensive cologne and... danger. My heart hammered against my ribs.

In front of the floor-to-ceiling window, a large leather swivel chair was turned away from me. The man in it was on a black telephone.

“Okay, I’ll call you later. Bye,” he said, hanging up. That voice... it sounded horribly familiar.

I ignored the chill down my spine and stepped forward.

“Good morning, Sir. I apologize for the delay. I am Amara Ellyze Marquez, applying for the Junior Software Developer position.”

I placed my muddied resume on the glass desk.

The chair slowly rotated. And there they were—those dangerous, icy eyes. Eyes that spoke with absolute authority.

I froze. The coffee I’d had earlier felt like it was turning to lead in my stomach. The man sitting behind the desk was the same man who had trampled on my resume.

Laxus Morgan.

He glanced at me, then at the stained paper on his desk. A slow, mocking smirk spread across his lips.

“So, the clumsy woman from the lobby is a developer?”

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “I thought I told you to get out?”

I couldn't help myself. “I came here for an interview, Sir. Not to take orders from a man who doesn't even know how to apologize.”

A man like you, I wanted to add, but I bit my tongue. I didn't blink.

He let out a short, cold laugh—a sound completely devoid of warmth. “Confident and feisty. I like that. Though it’s no excuse for being incompetent.” He picked up my resume with two fingers as if it were contaminated. “Amara Marquez from... Antique? What makes you think I’d believe a provincial girl could be the best hacker for a prestigious company like mine?”

I blinked. Hacker? How did he know that?

“So tell me, Amara... what can you—”

Suddenly, the office plunged into pitch-black darkness. It lasted only thirty seconds before the room was flooded with a blinding, pulsating red light. Emergency alarms began to blare.

Laxus reached for his intercom just as it crackled to life.

“Sir, the system is under attack! Someone is bypassing the Level 10 firewall!” the voice on the other end panicked.

Laxus hissed a curse.

The mocking smirk was gone, replaced by a lethal, murderous intensity. He turned to his main console, his long, veined fingers flying across the keyboard with terrifying speed.

I swallowed hard, watching his hands. Focus, Amara!

“Lock the database! Trace the IP address, NOW!” he roared over the alarms.

I stood in the center of the chaos, my eyes glued to his massive holographic screen. The lines of code scrolling past weren't standard.

Recursive encryption. It was a rare, sophisticated attack. But as a graduate who spent her nights in the deep layers of the cyberworld, I knew this dance. I knew exactly what the attacker was doing.

“Manual locking won't stop that,” I said softly.

Laxus snapped his head toward me, his eyes flashing with rage and confusion.

“The more you try to lock it, the more the virus replicates,” I explained. I stepped toward him, but my foot caught on a cable. I stumbled forward, slamming right into his broad chest.

He wasn't wearing his coat. I could feel the heat radiating from him through his white dress shirt. For a heartbeat, time stopped. Our eyes met—his deep, dark blue gaze bore into mine, the murderous rage momentarily flickering into something else. His arms wrapped around me instinctively, steadying me.

A warning sign flashed bright red on the screen, snapping me back to reality. I pulled away from his embrace, my heart racing for an entirely different reason.

Focus, Amara! Focus!

“Take your foot off my resume, Mr. Morgan,” I said, not looking him in the eye this time. “And let me show you exactly what an 'incompetent' girl can do.”

I didn't wait for his permission. I pushed into the space beside him and reached for the keyboard.

It was time to show the Beast what I was made of.