POV: Alexander Kane
The ocean roared below the cliff, a restless beast clawing at the rocks, but inside my study, silence reigned. I leaned back in my chair, the tablet's glow casting shadows across the mahogany desk. Elena Vasquez's resume stared back at me: sparse, raw, real. No Ivy League polish, no connections to leverage. Just a woman who'd kept a sinking restaurant afloat until life kicked her legs out. I liked that. Too much, maybe.
The phone vibrated, Victor Lang's name flashing like a warning. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. The man was a vulture, circling my empire with those cold, calculating eyes. I hit accept, keeping my voice like steel. "What now, Victor?"
His laugh slithered through the line, all silk and venom. "Just checking on our little wager, Kane. Found your mark yet? Or are you still dodging my challenge?"
I glanced at the resume again, Elena's name in bold. The bet was a stupid impulse: cocktails at a Manhattan club, Victor's taunts about my "ice king" reputation, his smug claim I couldn't charm a woman who wasn't after my money. Three months to make her fall, or he'd take the merger that'd lock Kane Innovations as the top AI security firm. Lose, and I'd be handing him half my board's loyalty. Reckless? Sure. But I never backed down from a fight.
"I've got her," I said, voice flat. "She starts tomorrow."
Victor chuckled. "Spicy one, I hope. I'd hate for this to be too easy. Who's the lucky girl?"
"None of your business." I kept it vague, but my mind flicked to Elena's interview this morning. That fire in her dark eyes, the way she'd called me out without flinching. Most candidates groveled. She didn't. It stirred something I hadn't felt in years; not since the crash that took Mom and Dad, leaving me to build this empire alone.
"Careful, Alex," Victor purred. "You sound invested. Don't fall for your own con."
I hung up, tossing the phone onto the desk. Asshole. He thought he knew me, thought I was still the kid who'd watched his father's fraud tank my parents' company. Victor's dad got prison; mine got a gravestone. That was the real score he wanted to settle, not some merger. But I'd play his game. And win.
The butler, Charles, knocked softly. "Ms. Vasquez has arrived, sir."
"Send her in." I stood, smoothing my shirt, catching my reflection in the window. Thirty-two, and I looked like I carried a decade more in my jaw. Too many late nights, too many deals. Too many walls.
Elena stepped into the study, and the room felt smaller. Her black skirt hugged curves I hadn't let myself notice this morning, but now? Damn. Her hair was pulled back, exposing the stubborn set of her jaw. She clutched a worn duffel bag like a shield, but her eyes scanned the room: taking in the bookshelves, the ocean view, me. No fear, just assessment.
"Mr. Kane," she said, voice steady but laced with something sharp. "Nice castle. Where's the dungeon?"
I smirked. "Basement. I'll show you later if you misbehave."
Her laugh was quick, unguarded, and it hit me harder than it should've. "I'm here to work, not play prisoner. Where do I start?"
I handed her the tablet, our fingers brushing. A spark: static, probably made her flinch. Or was it me? "Your first task. My calendar's a nightmare. Meetings, flights, investor calls. Fix it by dinner."
She raised a brow, scrolling the screen. "This isn't a calendar; it's a war zone."
"Exactly. Think you can handle it?"
"Watch me." She sank into the chair across from me, already tapping away, her focus razor-sharp. I watched her for a moment too long; her lips pursed, a stray curl falling loose. Focus, Kane.
I turned to the window, the ocean's churn matching my thoughts. The bet was supposed to be simple: hire her, charm her, win. But Victor's call lingered, and so did Elena's presence. She wasn't like the socialites who threw themselves at me, all fake smiles and agendas. She was... real. Dangerous.
"Dinner's at eight," I said, heading for the door. "Don't be late."
"Wouldn't dream of it, boss," she called, not looking up. That word boss sounded like a challenge.
I strode down the hall, the mansion's silence swallowing my steps. Charles was waiting, all crisp efficiency. "Anything else, sir?"
"Keep an eye on her. Discreetly." I didn't trust Victor not to pull something. He'd been too smug on that call, like he had a card up his sleeve.
"Of course." Charles vanished, and I headed to my office upstairs, where monitors glowed with code and contracts. Kane Innovations wasn't just a company; it was my armor. After the crash, I'd built it from nothing: coding at sixteen, deals by twenty, billionaire by twenty-five. But it came at a cost. No family, no friends, just power. And now, this bet.
My phone pinged: an email from Victor. A single line: Hope your new hire's worth the risk. I'm watching. A chill ran through me. He knew about Elena already? Impossible. Unless someone on my staff was feeding him intel. I'd built my empire on paranoia, but this felt too close.
I pulled up the security feed, Elena's figure on the study monitor. She was hunched over the tablet, muttering to herself, organizing my chaos with a speed that impressed me. A pang hit my chest: guilt? No, couldn't be. This was business. A game.
But as I watched her, I wondered if I'd already miscalculated. Elena Vasquez wasn't just a mark. She was trouble. And for the first time in years, I wasn't sure I wanted to win.
Dinner was a test. I'd set the table in the dining room: crystal, silver, the works. If she could handle lobster bisque and my questions without crumbling, she'd survive the job. Maybe more.
She walked in at eight sharp, wearing a simple black dress from the closet I'd had stocked. It fit her like it was made for her, and I hated how much I noticed. "You're punctual," I said, pouring wine.
"You're demanding," she shot back, sitting across from me. "Calendar's done. Color-coded, even. You're welcome."
I raised a glass. "To efficiency."
She clinked hers, eyes narrowing. "To paying my bills."
Direct. I liked it. We ate, talked: her family's restaurant, and my early coding days. She didn't pry about the crash, and I didn't offer. But her stories about her dad, her abuela's recipes, hit a nerve. I hadn't talked like this in years. Not since the crash left me alone, building walls higher than this mansion.
"You're not what I expected," I said, leaning back.
"What, not a gold-digger?" Her smile was sharp but warm. "You're not exactly a fairy-tale prince either."
"Fair." I laughed, surprising myself. "But you're fearless. That's rare."
She shrugged, but her cheeks flushed. "Gotta be, in my world."
Midnight came too fast. I walked her to her suite, the hall dim, her scent, something floral and fierce lingering. "Sleep well, Elena."
Her door closed, and I stood there, heart pounding like a kid. This wasn't part of the plan. The bet was supposed to be cold, calculated. But Elena? She was fire. And I was already burning.
Back in my office, Victor's email glowed on my screen. I deleted it, but his words echoed. I'm watching. Let him. I'd win this game, merger, Elena, all of it.
Or so I thought.