Ella lasted three days.Only three.
Three days of impossible deadlines.Eighteen-hour workdays.Alexander's cold voice. His colder eyes.
Three days of whispers. Stares.Rumors that spread like smoke through the office.
She was running on caffeine and spite.Which was probably why it happened—Her first mistake.
Wednesday morning.Executive strategy meeting.
Ella sat in her usual corner, laptop open, fingers moving fast.Alexander stood at the head of the table, running through quarterly projections.
Fifteen executives listened. Watched. Judged.
"Miss Montgomery," Alexander said suddenly, without looking up."Pull up the Chen Industries file."
She froze for half a heartbeat.Then her hands moved again—fast.
She'd prepped twelve files that morning.Chen Industries. Chen Technologies. Chen Manufacturing.
She clicked.
The screen behind him flickered to life.Numbers filled the wall display.
Wrong numbers. Wrong file.
Silence.
"This is Chen Technologies," Alexander said, quiet but deadly."I asked for Chen Industries."
Ella's blood went cold."I'm sorry, I'll—"
"You'll what? Fix your incompetence?"His tone sliced like a blade."This is a multi-billion-dollar deal, and you've brought me the wrong data in front of my executives."
"It was an honest mistake—"
"Honest?" He laughed once—sharp and cruel."There's no such thing as an honest mistake at this level, Miss Montgomery. There's only failure."
Her face burned.Fifteen pairs of eyes watched her fall apart.
"I apologize," she whispered.
"Apologize?" His gaze was glacial. "Your apology means nothing. You've wasted everyone's time. This meeting is over."
"Mr. Blackwood—"
"Get out."He turned his back. "And don't come back until you can do your job properly."
The air disappeared from her lungs.She stood. Grabbed her laptop.Walked out.
Every step echoed.Every breath hurt.
She made it to her desk before the tears came.Silent. Angry. Humiliated.
All over one wrong click.One file.And he'd destroyed her.
She didn't see him for the rest of the day.
Ella worked like a machine.Triple-checked every number. Rebuilt the presentation from scratch.This time, it was flawless.
By six, the executives filed out. The meeting had restarted—without her.
Vivian appeared at her desk, all elegance and perfume.Her smile was sugar-coated poison.
"Rough day?"
"I'm fine."
"He's brutal when he's angry. You'll learn."Vivian leaned closer. "Pro tip—never make mistakes in public. He hates looking weak."
"Noted."
Vivian's eyes gleamed. "Though between you and me? I think he enjoys breaking pretty things. Quit while you still can."
"I can't quit. Contract."
"Ah." Vivian's lips curved. "The golden handcuffs. Well…" She straightened. "Good luck. You'll need it."
Her heels clicked away, leaving the faint scent of expensive cruelty behind.
Ella stared at the screen.At the perfect slides she'd rebuilt.
One mistake. That's all it took.
8 p.m.Voices.
Alexander's office door was half-open.
She should've gone home.She should've walked away.
But she didn't.
She listened.
"—too harsh on the girl," an older man said. Richard, one of the board members. "She made a simple mistake."
"Simple?" Alexander's tone was razor-sharp. "There are no simple mistakes in business, Richard."
"She's been here less than a week. You're working her to death."
"And?"
"That's not management, that's cruelty."
A pause. Paper rustled.
"Or are you testing her?" Richard asked. "Seeing when she'll break?"
Silence.
Then Alexander's low voice: "Careful, Richard. You're overstepping."
"Someone has to. I've known you since you were a boy. I know the signs. The way you look at that girl—"
"I don't look at her any particular way."
"You fired Gerald for one crude joke. You've never done that before."
"He crossed a line."
"Or maybe you're being territorial." Richard's voice softened. "What are you doing, son? She's not a game piece. She's a person."
"She's an employee."
"Is that all?"
A long pause.
"That's all she can be," Alexander said finally. His voice sounded… tired. "Anything else is too dangerous."
"Dangerous for who?"
"Both of us."
Footsteps moved closer.
Ella scrambled back to her desk, heart hammering. She clicked aimlessly at her keyboard as if working.
Richard stepped out first, gave her a kind nod, and left.
Then Alexander appeared in the doorway.
"You're still here."
"Finishing the presentation. The correct one."
He studied her for a moment. Those ice-blue eyes unreadable.
"Send it to me when you're done," he said. Then paused. "The mistake today—it was minor. I overreacted."
Ella's fingers stilled.Was he… apologizing?
"I shouldn't have spoken to you that way in front of the executives," he added. "It was unprofessional."
"You were angry."
"I was." He leaned against the doorframe. "But not at you."
Her eyes lifted. "Then who?"
"Myself."A bitter smile tugged at his mouth. "For caring that they were judging you."
Her pulse stumbled. "You… cared?"
"I shouldn't." His jaw tightened. "But I did. And that made me angry. So I took it out on you."
He pushed off the doorframe. "It won't happen again."
"Which part?" she asked quietly. "The humiliation or the caring?"
He almost smiled. "Both, ideally."
He turned to leave.
"Alexander."
He stopped. Looked back.
"Why did you hire me? Really?"
Silence.Then, quietly—
"Because you looked at me like I was human. Not a god. Not a monster. Just… a man."His eyes met hers. "And I couldn't look away."
The door shut behind him.
Ella sat motionless.Her heart refused to calm.
What was happening between them?
Friday evening.
She was packing up when his voice came again.
"Miss Montgomery."
She jumped. He was there—silent, composed, unreadable.
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow night. The Blackwood Foundation Gala."He set a black-and-gold invitation on her desk. "You'll attend. As my secretary."
"A gala?" she blinked. "That's not part of my job—"
"Everything is part of your job."His tone left no room for argument."Seven p.m. Grand Luxor Hotel. A dress will arrive in the morning."
"Another dress?"
"This is a five-thousand-dollar-a-plate event. You can't wear department store clothing."
"I'm not going."
"You are."
"No." She stood, meeting his gaze head-on."I'm your secretary. Not your date. Not your accessory. You already control my hours, my clothes, my life. But this—this is too far."
The air crackled.Dangerous silence.
"You think you have a choice?" he said softly.
"I think I have a spine."
His eyes flashed."I like your spine," he murmured. "But you're coming to the gala."
"Why? Give me one reason."
He stepped closer. Too close.His cologne wrapped around her, dark and clean.
"Because tomorrow night, I'll be surrounded by sharks—politicians, rivals, men who want to see me fall. And I need someone real beside me. Someone who looks me in the eye and says no."
His hand rose. Brushed her cheek.Gentle. Wrong. Electric.
"You need me?" she whispered.
"Unfortunately."He dropped his hand. "Seven p.m. Don't be late."
And he was gone.
She stood frozen, pulse racing.
That night, Ella didn't sleep.
She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling.Hearing his words again and again.
I need someone real beside me.Because you looked at me like I was human.
Her thoughts tangled until morning.
At 2 a.m., her phone buzzed.
A text. From him.
Are you awake?
Her fingers hesitated. Then: Yes.
I can't stop thinking about earlier. When I touched your face.
Her chest tightened.
You shouldn't have done that.
I know. But I'll do it again tomorrow. And more.Unless you tell me to stop.
I should tell you to stop.
Should. But will you?
She stared at the blinking cursor.At the question that wasn't a question at all.
She didn't answer.
See you tomorrow, Ella. Wear the dress. Look beautiful.And prepare yourself.
Prepare for what?
For everyone to know you're mine.
Saturday morning.
The package arrived.
Inside—A dress. Red. Silk and lace.The kind of red that dared you to look.
Not a work dress.A statement. A claim.
A note rested on top.
Red is your color. It matches the fire in your eyes when you're angry.I can't wait to see it. – A
P.S. Wear your hair down. I want to see it fall across your back.
Ella's hands trembled.This was insane. Possessive. Dangerous.
And God help her—Part of her wanted it.
Wanted him to look at her that way again.Wanted to feel that control.That intensity.
Her phone rang. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Miss Montgomery," a woman's professional voice said."This is the Grand Luxor Spa. Mr. Blackwood has booked you for a full-day appointment—hair, makeup, nails. Your car will arrive at 11:45."
"I didn't agree to—"
"Mr. Blackwood insisted." Click.
The call ended.
Ella stared at her phone. Then at the dress.
What had she gotten herself into?And why, deep down, did she want to see where it led?