Chapter 19: UNDER HIS COMMAND.

During the week to the ball.

————

      The following morning, the air in the house felt… different. Or maybe it was just me. Maybe it was the weight of everything from last night—the way Blake had touched my face, the way he had offered me a job like it was already decided.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked into the kitchen to start my usual routine. But then I saw Nadia standing at the counter, sipping her coffee, her expression normal.

She glanced up when I entered, her sharp eyes sweeping over me before she let out a small smile.

"So," she began, setting her mug down. "Looks like I’m losing my best worker."

I froze mid-step. "What?"

She gave a wry smile. "Mr. Hawthorne informed me this morning. You’re no longer the caretaker. He said a new one should be hired immediately."

I stared at her, my heart thudding. I hadn’t even spoken to Blake yet about officially accepting the job, and he was already making arrangements?

"He said that?" My voice came out quieter than I intended.

"Yes," Nadia replied simply. "I guess congratulations are in order. You’re moving up."

There was something in her tone—but before I could analyze it, a deep, familiar voice cut through the kitchen.

"Samantha."

I turned sharply to see Blake standing at the entrance, his presence consuming the room in an instant. His suit was immaculate as always, his expression composed.

"Come with me," he said. Not a request. A command.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

As I followed him out of the kitchen, I felt Nadia’s gaze on my back.

————

Blake led me through the house, past the grand staircase, and down a hallway I hadn’t ventured into before. The air was thick with anticipation, my nerves tightening with every step.

Finally, he stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a sleek, modern office. It wasn’t big, but it was elegant—dark wood furniture, a leather chair, a desk that was already set up with a laptop and a few neatly stacked files.

"This is yours," Blake said, stepping aside so I could enter.

I hesitated at the doorway, my breath catching. "Mine?"

"You’re my assistant now," he said smoothly. "You’ll need a proper space to work. And since I require immediate access to you, your office will be close to mine."

I stepped inside, running my fingers along the polished desk. It felt surreal. Just yesterday, I was making him dinner, and now I had an office?

“I thought you gave me time to think about it, sir,” I said, meeting his gaze.

Blake leaned against the doorframe, his expression impassive. "I did. But I already knew your answer." He tilted his head slightly, watching me. "Figured we might as well get started."

He then moved inside to the other side of the desk, placing a sleek folder in front of me. "Your contract," he said. "Read it carefully before signing."

I glanced up at him, my heart still racing. "I don’t need to read it," I said, reaching for the pen. "I accept."

A flicker of something—approval? Amusement?—crossed his face.

"You’re that eager?"

I met his gaze. "You already made arrangements with Nadia before I even said yes. That tells me this was happening no matter what. So why waste time?"

A slow smirk curved his lips. "Smart girl."

His praise stirred an unexpected flicker of anger—he hadn’t even given me the chance to come to him and accept on my own. But I pushed the thought aside and focused on signing the contract.

As I scribbled my name on the final page, Blake stepped closer, his presence looming over me. I could feel the heat of his body, the weight of his gaze as he watched me.

When I finished, he plucked the pen from my fingers, his touch lingering for just a second too long.

"Good," he murmured. "Now, let’s go over your responsibilities."

I nodded.

“You’ll be on call," He started. "No fixed hours. When I need you, you report to me."

"Okay." I answered

"You’ll handle tasks on your own, but most of the time, you’ll work directly under me." His lips curved slightly, but there was something elusive in his expression. "Meetings, correspondence, company matters. Some things will require confidentiality."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"You’ll also accompany me when necessary—business visits, company trips." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just a fraction. "It means staying close."

My fingers curled slightly on the contract.

His gaze was steady, expectant. "Understood?"

"Understood," I murmured.

His eyes flickered with a surprise. "Say it."

"I understand, Mr. Hawthorne."

His lips twitched, as if pleased. "Trips will begin after the ball, but until then, I expect you to get familiar with everything. You’ll shadow me closely."

"Closely?" I echoed, my throat dry.

"Very closely," he confirmed.

Something about the way he said it made my pulse skip.

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Come” he gestured for me to follow him

We left the room to another.

We Finally stopped in front of another door, and he pushed it open.

“This,” he said, stepping aside, “as you well know is my office, it's close to yours.”

I swallowed hard as I entered.

It was larger than my own—sleek, modern, and exuding power. A massive mahogany desk sat at the center, perfectly organized with documents, a laptop, and a single glass of whiskey resting on a coaster. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the vast empire, letting in just enough light to cast a golden glow over the space.

I tried not to let my awe show, but Blake caught it anyway.

"Intimidated?" His voice was smooth, edged with amusement.

I lifted my chin. "No."

His smirk deepened, like he knew I was lying.

He strolled to his desk, placing my signed contract inside a drawer before turning back to me. "This is where most of your work will revolve around. I prefer things done efficiently, so I expect you to anticipate my needs without waiting for instructions."

"Anticipate?" I echoed, my brows lifting.

He leaned against the desk, watching me closely. "For example, if I have a meeting scheduled—"

"You work from home," I interrupted before I could stop myself.

Blake's brows arched slightly, but he didn’t seem annoyed. If anything, he looked entertained. "Yes. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have meetings. Video calls. Correspondence. Deals to manage."

I nodded, feeling slightly foolish. Of course he had work. He wasn’t just lounging around all day.

"You’ll be responsible for scheduling calls, reviewing important emails before they reach me, and ensuring my days run smoothly," he continued. "If something needs to be arranged, you’ll handle it. If there’s a problem, you solve it. If I need something, I shouldn’t have to ask twice."

I bit my lip so hard I was sure there’d be a mark. "And if I mess up?"

His gaze darkened, sharp and knowing. "Then you’ll make sure it never happens again."

A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to look away.

Blake pushed off the desk and moved toward me, closing the space between us with slow, deliberate steps. My breath hitched as he reached past me, his arm brushing against mine as he grabbed a file from a nearby cabinet. The scent of his cologne—rich, dark, utterly him—wrapped around me.

Blake glanced down at me, his expression unreadable. "Feeling Nervous?"

Yes.

I shook my head. "No."

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. Then, to my absolute horror, he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

I froze.

His hands cupped my face, the contact sent a jolt of heat through me.

"You lips are slightly swollen....Again!" he murmured.

“Umm… maybe a little. This is new to me.” I admitted.

For a long moment, we just stood there, so close, caught in the tension crackling between us. His thumb hovered near my chin, his breath mingling with mine—until the door swung open.

Alan....

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