(Liam's POV)
The day had been mercilessly long. Manhattan's skyline glowed under the tinted windows of KnightCorp Tower, casting streaks of orange and gold across the glass floors of the top conference room. Liam Knight loosened the edge of his tie as his final meeting with the Board concluded, each executive exiting with respectful murmurs and lowered gazes. The clock read 7:15 p.m., and still, his desk was buried in contracts waiting for his signature.
He leaned back in his chair, the city's hum muffled behind the thick glass. He needed silence. Control. Predictability.
But lately, those things had become luxuries.
His thoughts betrayed him again, returning to the woman he had confined in his penthouse. Alicia Blake. The very contradiction to every principle he'd ever lived by: soft but defiant, terrified but reckless. Even locked away, she was changing everything the way he thought, the way he breathed, the way his restraint frayed at the edges when he remembered the way she whispered his name.
He exhaled sharply, forcing the thought away. He had a company to run, an empire to guard.
The knock came just as he reached for his pen.
"Mr. Knight?" Delacroix's voice entered, smooth as always. "You asked to see the next candidate for the assistant secretary position."
"Send her in," Liam said without looking up, his tone clipped.
He expected another nervous graduate, someone with trembling hands and memorized lines. Instead, the scent of jasmine and something sharper drifted in before the sound of heels touched the marble floor.
A voice followed…. sultry, deliberate.
"Mr. Knight," she purred. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you."
Liam looked up.
The woman before him was a picture of self-awareness. She knew she was beautiful and wore that knowledge like a weapon. Her glossy brunette hair framed her face in sculpted waves, her crimson lips curved just so. Her eyes, a bright hazel-green, didn't flicker with uncertainty as most did under his stare. They studied him instead, calculating, bold, amused.
He did not move.
"Selena Hart," she continued, stepping forward, hand extended. "I've been so eager to meet you."
Liam's gaze flicked down to her offered hand, then back to her face. He didn't take it.
"Eager," he repeated, voice flat, the word rolling slowly off his tongue like a test. "And why is that?"
Her smile deepened, a small curve of challenge. "Because opportunities like this don't wait. And men like you don't either."
The air thickened.
He wasn't sure if she knew what she was walking into or if she simply didn't care. Either way, she had his attention, if only because she was the first person in months to stare back without fear.
Delacroix cleared his throat quietly, breaking the silence. But Liam didn't look away.
He leaned back slightly, his tone calm but edged.
"Curiosity," he murmured, "is not a trait I reward easily, Miss Hart. Be careful what you seek."
She didn't flinch. In fact, she tilted her head, a slow, deliberate gesture, like a cat studying a lion in its cage.
"Maybe I'm not looking for a reward," she said softly. "Maybe I'm looking for a challenge."
Liam's lips curved into something between a smirk and a warning. "Then you may find this place far less welcoming than you imagine."
Her smile flickered, but only for a second. She knew the game, flirtation disguised as confidence, ambition masked by charm. Yet something in her tone was too deliberate, too practiced.
He'd met people like her before.
And people like her always wanted something.
He turned slightly toward Delacroix. "Have her credentials forwarded to my office. You'll handle the formal interview."
Delacroix nodded. "Yes, sir."
Liam's gaze returned to Selena, cold and precise. "Send them to my email before tomorrow noon. I'll review your interview performance after that."
For a moment, it looked as though she would protest. But then she smiled again, that same slow, self-assured smile and nodded.
"Of course, Mr. Knight," she said, the words dipped in honey. "You'll have everything by morning."
She turned, her perfume trailing behind her like smoke and for the briefest second, Liam watched the sway of her walk, intentional, rehearsed, the walk of someone who had practiced being admired. But admiration wasn't something Liam offered easily.
The door shut behind her and silence reclaimed the room.
Delacroix raised an eyebrow. "Confident one, isn't she?"
Liam didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the faint shimmer left on his desk, the reflection of the city against the polished surface. Finally, he spoke.
"Confidence is easy," he said. "It's sincerity that's rare."
Delacroix smiled faintly. "You think she's after something?"
Liam's tone sharpened, almost absently. "Everyone who walks into this building wants something, Delacroix. The smart ones just learn how to hide it better."
He leaned forward, signing the next document. But even as the pen moved, his mind flickered back to the woman's eyes, that bold shade of green that didn't blink even when his stare cut through her composure.
He didn't like mysteries. And Selena Hart, for all her poise, had just become one.
The next morning came with rain, light but persistent. It drummed softly against the penthouse windows as Liam dressed for work, knotting his tie with mechanical precision. He glanced briefly toward the hallway leading to the guest wing. He could almost feel Alicia's presence there, the quiet rebellion simmering behind locked doors.
He had told her she wasn't to leave. Not yet. Not until he could trust her again.
And yet, she had begged him to let her return to the office.
He had refused.
Then relented, only after he had every surveillance measure tightened to the inch.
Control. Always control.
By the time he reached his office, Delacroix was waiting and so was the next wave of work.
But buried among the routine reports was a folder, neatly sealed, labeled Selena Hart.
Liam opened it.
Her résumé was polished, too polished. Degrees, experience, a few cleverly placed recommendations from mid-tier agencies. But the gaps were telling. The timeline of her employment shifted subtly between years. There was nothing overtly false just… tailored.
He closed the folder slowly.
"What's your impression?" he asked without looking up.
Delacroix exhaled. "Intelligent, poised. Knows how to speak to power. A little too much confidence for an entry-level secretary, if you ask me."
Liam's mouth twitched. "And what did you think she wanted?"
Delacroix chuckled under her breath. "You, perhaps."
Liam's gaze cut to him sharply. "That would be her first mistake."
Delacroix smiled thinly. "Understood."
Liam turned toward the window again, watching the city pulse with life below. He could almost hear her voice again, the smooth confidence, the purr behind every word. She had walked into his office like she belonged there and that intrigued him more than it should have. But intrigue was dangerous. Especially when it came from a stranger who smiled too long.
He didn't like loose ends. And Selena Hart, despite her charm, had left too many unanswered questions in her wake.
He pressed the intercom. "Delacroix. Schedule her for another evaluation. This time with me present."
A pause. "Today, sir?"
"Tomorrow morning," Liam said, eyes still on the glass. "I want to see what she's really after."
That evening, as the office emptied and lights dimmed across the floor, Liam stood alone in the corridor, his reflection framed against the city. The scent of rain lingered even here. The elevator chimed softly behind him and Delacroix stepped out, holding a small report.
"She asked if she could drop off additional documents," he said. "She's downstairs, in the reception area."
Liam turned his head slightly. "At this hour?"
"She said it was urgent."
A pause stretched, thick and deliberate. Liam nodded once. "Send her in."
Moments later, the door opened again and Selena Hart stepped in, wrapped in a beige coat, droplets of rain glistening in her hair. Her eyes caught his immediately, unreadable but bright.
"I apologize for disturbing you this late," she said softly, placing a sealed envelope on his desk. "I wanted to make sure my recommendations were in order."
Liam didn't move from where he stood.
"You could have sent them through email."
"I could have," she said, smiling faintly, "but I wanted to make sure you saw them yourself."
He studied her, the controlled rhythm of her breath, the small twitch of her fingers. She wasn't nervous. If anything, she was testing how close she could get to the fire.
"Is that so?" he murmured.
"Yes," she said simply.
Liam walked closer, each step slow, deliberate, the distance between them shrinking.
When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper.
"Tell me, Miss Hart. Do you often visit your potential employers uninvited?"
Her smile deepened. "Only the ones worth visiting."
For a heartbeat, their eyes locked his cold, hers warm with challenge.
Then he reached past her, opening the envelope without breaking eye contact. Inside were printed documents, but tucked between them was a card. Her card. Written in elegant ink: If you ever need something… off the record.
He looked up again, his expression unreadable.
"Bold," he said simply.
Selena tilted her chin. "Efficient."
For the first time that evening, Liam allowed himself a small, humorless smile. "We'll see which one you are."
He turned away, ending the conversation with the subtle dismissal of power. But even as she exited, her perfume lingered, a whisper of something sweetly dangerous.
And when the door closed, Liam found himself standing in silence, the faintest smile ghosting his lips.
It wasn't admiration.
It wasn't attraction.
It was curiosity, sharp, restrained and lethal.
And in Liam Knight's world, curiosity was the beginning of every downfall.