Elena's POV
If I'm being honest, New York didn't feel real at first.
It was too loud, too fast, too bright.
Back in Canada, I could hear the wind through pine trees outside my bedroom window. Here, it was all car horns and high heels and people walking like they were late for something important — which, apparently, everyone always is.
I stood in front of the glass tower that held Knight Enterprises, clutching my little beige handbag like it was a life raft. My reflection stared back at me — soft waves of brown hair, trembling lips coated with a shade too light for my skin, and eyes that screamed I don't belong here.
But I was here.
For real.
Personal assistant to Adrian Knight, CEO of one of the biggest corporations in New York.
Even saying that felt strange.
You know how people talk about those men who walk into a room and the air just… changes? That's him. Adrian Knight. The kind of man whose name carries weight. I'd only seen his photos — sharp jaw, impossibly calm eyes, and the sort of presence that makes everyone straighten their posture. He was the definition of composed power.
And me? I was just a girl from Canada with too many dreams and not enough confidence.
The receptionist smiled when I entered, though my voice trembled as I introduced myself.
"Elena Brooks. I… I'm starting today."
She nodded and called someone. A few minutes later, I was led to the top floor. The elevator ride felt endless — my heartbeat louder with every number that blinked upward.
When the doors opened, I met him.
Adrian Knight stood by the window, tall, composed, dressed in black and white like the city skyline itself. He didn't look at me right away. His focus was on something outside — the chaos of the streets far below — as if he could command even that from where he stood.
"Miss Brooks?" His voice was deep, smooth, but carried authority that left no room for hesitation.
"Yes, sir," I managed, trying to steady my voice.
He turned then — and for a moment, the world went still. His eyes met mine, cold grey, sharp enough to slice through nerves. But behind that steel, there was something else — something quiet, unreadable.
"You're from Canada."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Canadians are punctual."
I almost smiled, but his face didn't move. Not even a hint of humor.
He motioned toward the desk near his office. "Your workspace. You'll handle my schedule, correspondence, and travel arrangements. No mistakes."
I nodded quickly. "Of course."
His gaze lingered on me longer than necessary. I felt it — the weight of his attention, not flirtatious, not even kind… just intense.
Then he looked away. "Start with the emails from the London branch. My assistant left mid-project, so I expect you to adapt fast."
Adapt fast.
That phrase would replay in my mind for weeks.
I spent the morning trying to look calm while my fingers trembled on the keyboard. Every time he spoke, I jumped a little. Not because he was cruel — he wasn't — but because he was so controlled. Every word measured. Every step silent. Like he ruled his world and expected everyone else to keep up.
Around noon, I forgot to eat. I didn't even realize it until he walked out of his office. His shadow fell across my desk.
"You haven't taken your break."
His tone wasn't harsh — more like an observation. But it startled me anyway.
"Oh— I'm fine, sir. I just wanted to finish sorting—"
"Take your break."
I blinked.
He looked down at me, eyes narrowing slightly, voice low but firm. "Don't argue. I need my staff functional."
It wasn't a request.
And yet, there was something quietly protective about the way he said it.
I stood up immediately, my legs shaky. "Yes, Mr. Knight."
As I walked toward the break room, I could feel his gaze on me — not in a way that made me uncomfortable, but in a way that made my skin aware of every inch of space between us.
That was my first day — the day I met the man who'd change everything without even trying.
And I remember thinking as I left the building that evening…
He scared me.
But I couldn't stop thinking about him.
The way he spoke, the control in his voice, the brief flicker of concern when he noticed I hadn't eaten — it all stayed with me.
Some part of me knew that stepping into his world meant losing a little piece of my own.
But what I didn't know then — what I couldn't possibly imagine — was that I wasn't just walking into a new job.
I was walking straight into his orbit.
And once you fall into Adrian Knight's orbit… you never really leave.
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