The rain came without warning that morning, turning the city's glass towers into blurred silhouettes behind a curtain of silver. Lena Hart clutched her umbrella as she stepped out of the taxi in front of Blackwood Holdings, her heart thudding so loudly it almost drowned out the thunder.
She was here again.
This time not as a trespasser, but as someone about to enter a world she still didn't understand.
Inside the lobby, the air smelled of citrus polish and quiet money. She approached the receptionist's desk, clutching the letter from Adrian Blackwood like a shield.
"Good morning," she said. "I'm here to see Mr. Blackwood."
The receptionist smiled knowingly. "Miss Hart. He's expecting you."
That still sounded strange to Lena—someone like him expecting someone like her.
---
The private elevator whisked her upward in silence. She watched the floor numbers light up one by one until the doors slid open to the top floor. Adrian's assistant, Mr. Reed, was already waiting.
He was tall, composed, his expression unreadable. "Miss Hart. This way."
The walk to Adrian's office felt longer than before. When Reed opened the door, Adrian stood behind his desk, a sleek pen poised above a document.
"Right on time," he said without looking up.
"I was nearly late," Lena admitted.
"You weren't," he replied, signing the paper. "That's what matters."
He gestured to the chair opposite him. "Sit."
Lena obeyed, trying not to fidget as Reed placed a thick folder before her. The Blackwood logo gleamed in silver ink across its surface.
"This," Adrian said, tapping the folder, "is your employment contract."
Lena opened it and immediately frowned. "This is… a lot of pages."
He nodded. "You'll be dealing with confidential information. My schedule, personal affairs, financial data—things I don't want becoming dinner gossip."
"Understandable," she murmured, flipping through the dense legal text. "But what's this part about… discretion outside of work hours?"
Adrian's gaze lifted from his desk. "It means that anything you learn about me—business or personal—stays between us."
"That sounds like a lifetime commitment," she said with a nervous laugh.
He smiled faintly. "It's renewable annually."
Lena hesitated. There were terms she didn't understand, clauses that made her uneasy, but the salary figure printed at the bottom made her chest tighten. It was more money than she had ever seen in her life.
"I can have a lawyer read it first," she said cautiously.
"You could," Adrian replied. "But I need an answer today."
She blinked. "Today? That's hardly fair."
"Life rarely is, Miss Hart," he said softly. "The offer expires at midnight."
The challenge in his voice stirred something defiant in her. "Why me?" she asked again.
"Because I don't hire people who waste time," he said simply. "I hire people who trust their instincts."
"And if my instincts tell me to run?"
"Then you're free to run," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But something tells me you won't."
The silence between them stretched. Lena stared at the paper, her pulse echoing in her ears. Then, with a deep breath, she picked up the pen.
Her signature trembled slightly, but she didn't stop until the final stroke was done.
Adrian nodded once. "Welcome to Blackwood Holdings."
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
Mr. Reed led her through endless hallways lined with glass offices and quiet power. She met department heads, memorized faces, and tried to keep her nerves under control.
By noon, she was sitting at a sleek desk just outside Adrian's office—her new workspace. The view from the window took her breath away; the city stretched endlessly beneath her.
A message popped on her computer screen:
> A.Blackwood: Coffee. No sugar. One spoon of cream. Ten minutes.
Lena almost smiled. So it begins.
---
At exactly ten minutes, she entered his office. He was on a call, speaking in that smooth, controlled tone that made everything sound inevitable. She placed the cup on his desk silently and turned to leave.
"Miss Hart," he said without looking up.
"Yes?"
"You'll learn that timing isn't everything," he said, ending the call. "Presentation matters too."
She frowned. "Presentation?"
He gestured toward the cup. "Handle facing me. Napkin on the right. Consistency breeds excellence."
Her irritation sparked, though she hid it well. "Understood."
He looked at her then, amusement flickering briefly in his eyes. "Good. Most people get offended by correction."
"I'm used to being corrected," she said.
He studied her for a moment. "I doubt that's true."
Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, his expression hardening. "Cancel the board meeting," he told Reed through the receiver. "If they can't wait, they can walk."
He hung up and turned back to her. "I hope you don't scare easily."
"Should I?"
He leaned forward slightly. "You'll find out soon enough."
---
That evening, as Lena packed her things, she passed by a glass conference room where Adrian stood alone, staring out at the stormy skyline. Something about the image made her pause.
He wasn't the cold, untouchable man she'd assumed. There was tension in his shoulders, a heaviness in the way he held himself—as if he carried ghosts no one else could see.
When his eyes shifted and met hers through the glass, she startled. For a brief second, the air between them felt charged, alive with something unnamed.
Then he turned away, breaking the moment.
Lena exhaled slowly and walked toward the elevator, unaware that her reflection lingered faintly on the glass wall behind her—watched, measured, remembered.