First Day

**June’s POV**

I adjusted my blazer for the third time, staring at my reflection in the polished glass doors. My face looked pale, my eyes wide. “Get it together, June,” I whispered.

I didn’t have time to overthink it. Which was probably a good thing, because if I had, I might not have shown up at all.

Even standing outside the building of the Grayson group felt unreal. It was a monolith of glass and steel.

This was an opportunity. A real one. Not something I could afford to mess up. I already lost my job, and almost immediately got another. My lucky day. I exhaled sharply and pushed through the doors.

The lobby screamed power. Marble floors, soft lighting, and people moving with a terrifying sense of purpose.

“Miss Harper?”

I turned. A sharply dressed woman stood a few steps away, a tablet in hand. She was already assessing me with an icy gaze.

“Yes.”

“This way.”

 I followed her, my heels echoing too loudly against the polished floor. With every step, the tension in my chest tightened. Something wasn’t right.

We stopped in front of a set of heavy double doors. Dark, polished wood. Intimidating.

“Mr. Grayson will see you now,” she said.

My stomach did a slow flip. “Thank you,” I replied, though my voice was barely a breath. She nodded once and vanished, leaving me alone.

I hesitated for half a second, then pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back partially turned, one hand tucked into his pocket. 

He turned slowly, and the room felt instantly smaller. His gaze landed on me, sharp, measured, and entirely unsurprised. That was the first thing that felt wrong. He looked like he had been counting the seconds until I arrived.

“June Harper.” My name rolled off his tongue too easily.

“Yes.” My voice was steadier this time. 

He studied me. It wasn't the way men usually looked at me, there was no spark of interest. Just a cold evaluation.

“Sit.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. I sat, slowly and carefully, lacing my fingers together in my lap to keep them from trembling.

“You applied three months ago,” he said, moving toward his desk.

“Yes.”

“And yet you didn’t follow up.”

I blinked, surprised by the directness. “I… I didn’t think I’d be considered.”

A pause stretched between us. “Why not?”

I hesitated, then decided honesty was my only card. “I’m human,” I said simply.

His expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker of a shadow. “I’m aware.”

Something about his tone made my spine straighten. The silence that followed was thick and intentional. Then, he stepped closer. Not enough to be aggressive, but enough to make me feel the full force of his presence.

“You’re observant,” he said.

My brows pulled together. “Excuse me?”

“At the bar last night,” he continued calmly. “You noticed things others didn’t.”

My pulse spiked. *The bar. Last night.* My mind raced. Did he see me? Was he there? No, that didn’t make sense. I hadn't seen him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said carefully.

His gaze held mine, unblinking. “You don’t?”

“I was just there for a drink,” I insisted.

A faint shift moved across his features. It wasn't quite a smile, but it felt like one. “Of course you were.”

 He moved back to his desk and picked up a black folder.

“Consider your position here as an opportunity, June.”

My stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”

He set the folder down in front of me. “Your appointment letter.”

I didn’t touch it. Not yet.

“Take it,” he commanded.

I reached for it, my fingers brushing the cool texture of the paper. But before I could pull it toward me, his voice cut through the quiet.

“You should choose your associations more carefully, June.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

A beat. 

Then.

 “Don’t you?”

“Sir… Mr. Grayson, with all due respect, I know you are my boss now, but what I do with my private life is none of your business.”

The words came out steadier than I felt, cutting through the quiet office with an edge. I knew the moment they left my lips that I had pushed a line. I was a human in a world of wolves, sitting in the office of one of the most powerful men in the city, telling him to back off.

An awkward silence followed. 

Blake didn’t react immediately. He didn't correct my tone, and he didn't even blink. He just watched me.

Then, slowly, he moved. He didn't come toward me. Instead, he began to pace around me in unhurried steps. 

“You’re right,” he said finally.

I blinked. That wasn’t the reaction I had braced for.

“What you do in private,” he continued, his voice calm and melodic, “is entirely your choice.”

Relief flooded me, a sudden, dizzying rush only to vanish just as fast as it had come.

“However…”

There it was. The hook. He stopped behind his desk, resting his hand lightly against the dark, polished surface.

“What you choose publicly,” he added, his gaze locking onto mine, “is a different matter entirely.”

My stomach tightened. I didn’t respond; I didn't trust my voice not to betray the tremor in my chest.

“I need a partner,” he said. The words were simple, but the weight behind them was immense. “Not personal.”

I frowned, my confusion cutting through my nerves. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” That unshakable confidence again, the same terrifying certainty that I was already part of a plan I hadn't agreed to. He gestured lightly toward the leather chair across from him.

 “Sit.”

I hadn’t even realized I’d stood up. Slowly, I lowered myself back into the seat, feeling smaller than I had moments ago.

“Public appearances,” he began, listing them off like items on a ledger. “Events. Media. Affiliations. You’ll be seen with me. Associated with me.”

“So, you want me to be your personal assistant?" 

"No. You'll be more than that. You'll be my fiancée.”

"What?”

"You heard me.”

 “What’s the catch?” I asked carefully

A faint pause followed, the tension in the room stretching thin.

“Your position here becomes… permanent,” he said. I stilled at the word. Permanent. “You gain access. Security. Influence.”

He was offering me everything I didn’t have. Everything I had been drowning for.

“And all I have to do,” I said, the realization tasting like copper in my mouth, “is pretend to be your girlfriend?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Fiancee…but yes.”

I searched his eyes, waiting for the joke. Maybe he was a boss with humor.” 

But I got nothing.

“Why me?” I asked finally.

A beat of silence passed. “Because you’re suitable.”

That answer did nothing to settle the storm in my gut. “If this is about image,” I pushed, “there are people far more qualified for this than I am.”

 “I’m not interested in people who are qualified.’” He paused, leaning forward just an inch. “I’m interested in you.”

The phrase made my chest tighten. “I’m not yours to claim as you wolves do,” I said quietly.

“No,” he agreed. Then, after a heavy beat: “Not yet.”

My hands trembled on my lap as I forced a swallow.

“I need time to think,” I said finally.

For the first time since I’d walked in, he nodded. “Of course.” Relief flickered briefly, but he wasn't finished. “Until the end of the day.”

Just like that, the air left the room. My brows pulled together. “That’s not—”

“Enough?” he finished calmly. His gaze held mine, unmoving. “It is. You don’t need longer.”

My lips parted to protest, but the words died in my throat. He picked up a gold pen, already moving on to the next task on his desk. The conversation was over. The decision was pending.

“You’re dismissed, June.”