Aria stood frozen.
Her mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut. Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to escape. She'd imagined facing a panel of stiff HR reps and senior managers—not him.
The man from the elevator.
Now seated like a king behind a mahogany throne.
He was Dominic Blackwood.
CEO.
Billionaire.
And the one who had witnessed her desperate elevator rant five minutes ago.
"Is there a problem, Miss Monroe?" he asked, his tone silken but edged.
"No," she said quickly, clutching her portfolio tighter. "Not at all."
"Good," he replied, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Have a seat."
The boardroom was colder than she expected. More than the AC—it was the atmosphere. The tension between them crackled with unspoken energy. There was no one else on the panel. Just him.
She sat, spine stiff, legs crossed, and attempted to breathe.
"You said you've applied four times," he began, flipping through a file in front of him. Her résumé, no doubt.
"Yes," she said. "I didn't have the connections or fancy degree most of your candidates have. But I've worked hard. Freelanced. Built campaigns for small businesses. I believe I have the skills and creativity to—"
"Stop."
Her mouth closed instantly.
He leaned back, folding his hands. "Do you always plead your case like you're on trial?"
"I'm just… explaining my qualifications."
Dominic's gaze didn't waver. "You were more convincing in the elevator."
Aria flushed. "That wasn't meant to be a pitch."
"No," he said. "It was honest. Desperate. And I admire that. Desperation reveals character."
She blinked, not knowing how to respond.
He slid the folder to the side. "Let's cut through the charade. There is no internship panel today. Just me."
"Why?"
"Because I've already made a decision."
She felt her heart drop. "You're rejecting me?"
Dominic's lips twitched. "On the contrary… I'm offering you a position."
Aria gaped.
"But not the one you applied for."
She blinked. "I—I don't understand."
He rose from his seat and circled the table slowly, walking behind her. She could feel his presence like heat against her skin.
"I have a vacancy," he said. "For a new personal assistant. My last one quit after having a nervous breakdown."
Aria turned slowly to face him. "You want me to be your assistant?"
"Yes."
"But… why me?"
"Because you're smart," he said simply. "And you don't scare easily."
Aria hesitated. "What about the marketing team? That's what I studied for."
He leaned in close, voice like velvet. "Work under me for six months. Prove yourself. And I'll place you anywhere you want in this company."
The offer sounded too good to be true.
Which meant it probably was.
She narrowed her eyes. "What's the catch?"
A slow smirk tugged at his lips.
Dominic walked to a drawer behind him, pulled out a crisp envelope, and slid it across the table.
"A personal contract," he said. "One that includes exclusivity, confidentiality, and… loyalty."
Aria stared at it.
"And what exactly does 'loyalty' mean to you?" she asked cautiously.
His eyes glinted with something unreadable. "It means your time belongs to me during business hours—and occasionally beyond them."
Her breath hitched.
That sounded dangerous. Loaded.
"And if I say no?"
"Then we thank you for your time, and you walk out that door with no job."
Silence filled the space between them.
She glanced down at the envelope, then back up at him. "Can I… read the contract first?"
He nodded once.
She opened it carefully, scanning the neatly typed legal jargon until her eyes stopped on one bold line near the middle:
The employee shall refrain from engaging in any emotional or romantic relationship with the employer during the term of contract."
Her head snapped up.
"You've got to be kidding."
Dominic said nothing.
"You actually have a rule against falling in love with you?"
"I've had assistants fall before," he said with zero emotion. "It never ends well."
Aria let out a bitter laugh. "You sound confident."
"I'm not interested in complications, Miss Monroe."
She stood, heart thumping. "Maybe I should go."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you walking away from the opportunity of a lifetime… because of one clause?"
She hesitated.
Money. Prestige. A foot in the door.
But working that closely with him?
He stepped toward her. "If you're afraid of breaking rule eleven, perhaps you're not as composed as you pretend to be."
Aria's jaw clenched. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Then prove it," he challenged. "Sign the contract."
She stared at him. Heat climbed her neck. He was arrogant. Infuriating.
And completely unreadable.
This was a risk. But so was staying broke and invisible.
With a deep breath, she snatched the pen from his desk and signed the bottom.
He reached out, took the contract, and slid it back into the envelope with a satisfied smile.
"Welcome to hell, Miss Monroe," he said softly. "You start tomorrow."