The morning light spilled through Sophie's thin curtains far earlier than she would have liked. She barely slept, her mind looping between the contract she'd signed, the heated argument with Alex, and the dangerous secret she'd stumbled upon.
By the time she'd showered, dressed, and stood before her mirror, Sophie's nerves were barely contained beneath a carefully chosen navy blouse and a knee-length skirt. Her hands trembled slightly as she fastened a delicate chain around her neck, an old gift from her mother that always reminded her to breathe.
You can do this, she whispered to her reflection.
The cab ride downtown seemed to fly by, the city's towers sharpening into the familiar steel-and-glass fortress of Wolf Industries. The main building rose like a challenge into the morning sky, its tinted windows reflecting both the sunrise and Sophie's tight expression.
Inside the marble-floored lobby, people streamed past her — sharply dressed, heads down, eyes focused. No one lingered; everyone belonged. Sophie's heels clicked a hesitant rhythm across the polished floor as she approached the security desk.
"Name?" the guard asked without looking up.
"Sophie Carter," she answered, trying to keep her voice calm. "I'm starting today."
The guard tapped at his computer, then handed her a sleek black access card. "Elevator to the 22nd floor. HR will meet you."
Sophie nodded her thanks and turned, swallowing her nerves. The elevator's mirrored interior reflected a young woman trying to look like she belonged — shoulders back, chin lifted, though her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
When the doors opened, Claire Evans stood waiting. The older woman's ash-blonde bob cut to perfect symmetry and she wore a sharply cut dark suit that seemed to absorb the morning light.
"You're on time," Claire noted, faint amusement dancing in her eyes. "Good start. Follow me."
They walked briskly through a long corridor lined with glass-walled offices. Beyond the glass, Sophie caught glimpses of teams hunched over screens, charts, and endless documents. Every face seemed focused, every gesture efficient.
Claire led her into a small office with minimalist décor: a sleek white desk, a pair of chairs, and a single abstract painting in black and silver. "Sit," Claire instructed, motioning to the chair opposite hers.
"You'll be working directly for Mr. Wolf," she said. "Your role will change depending on what he needs. Some days you'll be in meetings; other days you'll coordinate projects or track down information."
Sophie nodded, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
Claire watched her, her expression softening slightly. "Listen carefully: Alex Wolf isn't an easy man to work for. He doesn't tolerate mistakes, but he values initiative. If you keep your head and don't fold under pressure, you'll be fine."
Sophie swallowed, her throat dry. "And if I do fold?"
"Then," Claire said with a small shrug, "you'll join the long list of assistants who didn't make it past probation."
Before Sophie could reply, Claire's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her lips tightening. "He's ready for you."
They left the office, walking past clusters of assistants speaking in hushed voices, their eyes flicking briefly to Sophie before darting away. At the far end of the hallway stood double doors of dark wood and frosted glass. Claire pushed them open.
Sophie recognized the office from the day before. The office was large, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sweeping view of the city. Bookshelves lined one wall, but otherwise, the space was spare, every piece of furniture deliberate.
Alex stood near the windows, back to them, phone pressed to his ear. He wore a charcoal suit today, perfectly tailored, his stance relaxed yet unmistakably in command.
Claire cleared her throat softly. "Mr. Wolf."
He turned, his eyes immediately locking on Sophie. For a heartbeat, he said nothing, simply assessed her with that sharp, unreadable gaze. Then he spoke into the phone: "I'll call you back."
He ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket, and nodded toward Claire. "Thank you."
Claire inclined her head and stepped out, closing the doors behind her, leaving Sophie alone with him.
Alex studied her in silence, his expression cool but not entirely unkind. "So," he said, voice low and calm, "ready to prove that yesterday wasn't a fluke?"
Sophie forced herself to meet his gaze. "Yes, sir."
His eyes narrowed slightly at the formality, but he let it go. "Good. You'll shadow me today — meetings, calls, anything else. Ask questions if you must, but keep them brief."
She nodded again. "Understood."
For a moment, something like amusement flickered across his face. "Let's see how long that calm lasts," he murmured, almost to himself.
He moved toward his desk, gesturing for her to follow. Sophie took a deep breath, her pulse pounding, and stepped further into the office. She could feel the weight of the day ahead settling on her shoulders — and with it, a quiet, stubborn resolve.
No matter how sharp his words or impossible his expectations, she wouldn't back down.
This was the first day in the Wolf's den. And Sophie Carter was determined it wouldn't be her last.
The morning barely gave Sophie time to catch her breath. Alex's schedule unfolded like a merciless tide: back-to-back meetings, rapid-fire phone calls, terse exchanges with directors and department heads.
Yet beneath the controlled frenzy, Sophie quickly saw what kept Wolf Industries alive: Alex's relentless mind, always calculating three steps ahead, weighing risks against rewards with a calm most would mistake for coldness.
But today, even Sophie sensed the tension coiling tighter than usual. The reason sat like a stone in her chest: Vanessa's secret — the rumored data leak that could bring her entire firm to its knees, and possibly hand it over to Alex on a silver platter.
Alex's next meeting of the day confirmed her worst fears.
In the sleek, glass-walled conference room, Alex sat at the head of the table, Sophie at his right. Across from them were two of Wolf Industries' senior legal advisors: a gray-haired woman named Marion and a sharp-eyed man named Patel. They had barely opened their folders before Alex spoke, voice calm yet clipped. "Tell me what you've heard about the leak. Every rumor, every whisper."
Patel cleared his throat, glancing at Sophie — clearly surprised she was present. But Alex's expression left no room for questions.
"There's talk," Patel began carefully, "that Vanessa Holt's firm has a vulnerability in their financial data systems. Unconfirmed, but serious if true. We don't know if it's an external breach or an inside job. Their legal team is trying to lock it down quietly."
"And if it exists?" Alex pressed.
Marion answered this time, her tone matter-of-fact. "If it's real and large enough, it could devalue the firm, break investor confidence, and open the door for acquisition. By you, or anyone else with enough capital and leverage."
Sophie's chest tightened. Acquisition. Was this what Alex wanted? But she could also see something else in his eyes: the cold understanding that in business, weakness isn't forgiven — it's exploited.
"And what about proof?" Alex asked. "Any evidence?"
Patel shook his head. "Nothing solid. Only rumors — the kind that destroy reputations even if untrue."
Alex leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. His gaze briefly flickered to Sophie, sharp as a blade. "And what's your opinion, Carter? Should we dig, or wait?"
The question caught her off guard. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and for a moment, her mind raced. But she swallowed, forcing herself to speak. "If it's real, waiting gives them time to hide it. If it's false, digging could damage your relationship and reputation. But… I'd check quietly. Carefully. Before someone else does."
A long pause followed. Patel's eyebrows rose, and Marion regarded her with new curiosity.
Alex's gaze stayed on her, unreadable. Then he gave a single, small nod. "Fair. Discreetly, then."
The meeting ended swiftly after that, the lawyers gathering their papers and leaving. Alex didn't look at Sophie, simply stood and headed back to his office, expecting her to follow.
Inside the office, the morning sun had shifted, cutting across the floor in a sharp line. Sophie trailed after him, notebook in hand, her pulse still pounding from being asked for her opinion in front of senior advisors.
She couldn't stop thinking about Vanessa's fear — and the assistants gossiping in the restroom. The leak might be more than a rumor. And if it was real, Alex's move could change everything.
What if Vanessa fights back? she wondered. Or what if someone discovers I overheard? The weight of what she knew pressed heavily on her, an invisible chain binding her to this high-stakes game.
Alex broke her thoughts. "Carter," he said, voice quiet but firm, "I need you to compile a list of every external contractor Vanessa's firm has worked with over the past eighteen months. Prioritize IT and security consultants."
She nodded, scribbling in her notebook, but dared to ask: "Do you think someone inside helped leak it?"
Alex's eyes met hers. "In my experience," he said dryly, "leaks rarely come from the outside. Greed and fear are always easier to buy than firewalls."
His tone was almost casual, but the words chilled Sophie. How many careers, how many lives could be destroyed if this rumor is true?
"Understood," she said softly.
As Alex turned away to take a call, Sophie retreated to the small workspace outside his office. Her heart still raced, her mind tangled in questions: Should I have told him sooner? Will he trust me now? Am I part of something I can't walk away from?
Yet beneath the fear, another feeling flickered — a quiet determination.
She had survived the first argument. She'd earned a place at the table, however fragile. And now, she had work to do: not just to keep her job, but perhaps to keep Wolf Industries from walking blindly into disaster — or to help Alex seize an opportunity he wouldn't forgive her for Ms. ing.
The stakes were impossibly high. But as she glanced through the glass at Alex — the man who had dared to ask her opinion when no one else would — she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't afford to look away now.