Chapter 8

Almost an hour later, the door opened.

Michael returned with a broad smile.

“Ms. Monace, congratulations. You've passed the first stage.”

I stood.

“Thank you.”

“Please follow me. Mr. Haulette would like to conduct the final interview himself.”

I paused for half a second.

The final interview? With the CEO?

My stomach tightened.

This was getting increasingly unusual.

Nevertheless, I followed Michael back to the elevator.

This time, he pressed the button for the ninety-ninth floor.

As the elevator climbed, I tried to settle my nerves.

All right. It's just another interview.

I'd negotiated with dangerous men, navigated volatile situations, and survived a betrayal that would have destroyed most people.

Surely, I could survive a conversation with a handsome CEO.

Surely.

The elevator doors opened.

The atmosphere on the ninety-ninth floor was different from anything I'd seen below. It was quieter, more exclusive, and almost intimidating in its restraint. Silver and charcoal tones dominated the interior, while soft lighting accentuated the elegant architecture.

At the entrance to the executive suite, an elaborate dragon engraving stretched across a massive door.

I slowed for a moment to admire it.

The craftsmanship was extraordinary.

Someone here certainly appreciates expensive things.

Michael continued down the corridor, and I hurried to catch up.

A woman wearing a name tag that read Executive Secretary greeted us. After a brief exchange, she used the intercom to announce our arrival.

“Mr. Haulette, Mr. Michael has arrived with your guest.”

A moment later, she opened the large wooden door.

Michael gestured for me to enter.

“After you, Ms. Monace.”

I stepped inside.

The office was enormous but tastefully furnished. A dark wooden desk stood near the windows, its surface accented with black leather. The rest of the room was uncluttered, every piece of furniture carefully chosen rather than simply purchased to display wealth.

And beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay the spectacular New York skyline.

I couldn't help staring.

The view was even more breathtaking than the one from the eighty-fifth floor. The city seemed to unfold in every direction, its towering buildings reaching toward a brilliant blue sky.

I loved beautiful things. Architecture, art, landscapes, even the small details most people overlooked.

Beauty had a way of reminding me that the world contained more than violence and betrayal.

Then I noticed the man standing by the window.

He wore a crisp white shirt and tailored black trousers. At nearly six feet four inches tall, he possessed a striking silhouette, broad shoulders and an effortlessly commanding presence.

He was speaking on the telephone with his back to us.

I recognized him immediately.

Victor.

The man from the cafe.

The man who had offered me a job as his secretary.

Even with his back turned, he was difficult to ignore.

Oh, my God. I'm actually being interviewed by Victor himself.

My heart began to beat faster.

I glanced at Michael, hoping he hadn't noticed my sudden nervousness. He was busy arranging the documents on Victor's desk.

Meanwhile, I tried to concentrate on anything other than the man by the window.

The view.

The furniture.

The dragon engraving on the door.

Anything.

Get a grip, Sevra. 

He was simply a potential employer.

An exceptionally handsome one, admittedly, but still an employer.

Don't even think about falling for your own boss. He's practically a decade younger than you.

I reminded myself of that the moment I saw his passport. His birth year was ten years after mine, for heaven's sake!

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at myself.

What a ridiculous thought.

I had bigger problems than developing a crush on a man whose company I hadn't even joined yet.

Victor glanced over his shoulder.

For the briefest moment, our eyes met.

His expression remained unreadable, but his gaze lingered on me a fraction longer than necessary.

Then he turned back to his conversation.

I looked away.

Did he just notice me staring?

Wonderful.

Just wonderful.

A few minutes later, Victor ended the call and walked toward his desk.

Up close, he was even more striking than I'd remembered. His features were sharply defined, his dark chocolate eyes alert, and his movements carried a quiet confidence that made the room seem to adjust itself around him.

He took his seat and looked directly at me.

Then he smiled.

“It's good to see you again, Ms. Sevra.”

He extended his hand.

I stood and shook it.

“Thank you, Mr. Victor.”

My palm was annoyingly damp.

His fingers closed around mine, warm and firm. For a brief moment, his gaze dropped to our joined hands before returning to my face.

“Relax,” he said, his smile softening. “Let's have a conversation. No need to be nervous.”

“Of course.”

I sat down, silently reminding myself to breathe normally.

Victor opened my profile.

“Your full name is Sevra Monace?”

“Yes.”

“And you're thirty-five this year?”

I nodded.

“That's right.”

He studied my face for a moment.

“You don't look thirty-five.”

I laughed, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Thank you. I suppose that's a compliment.”

“It is.”

He leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth lifting.

“There's a ten-year age difference between us.”

I blinked.

“Ha-ha, yes.”

The response escaped before I could think it through.

Then I froze.

Wait. What exactly does he mean by that?

I looked at him more carefully.

Victor's smile widened.

“Nothing in particular,” he said, sounding far too amused by my reaction.

His eyes held mine for another moment before he returned his attention to the documents.

I cleared my throat.

Wonderful. I've known this man for barely a day, and I'm already embarrassing myself.

Victor flipped through my assessment.