AYLA
This felt like a dream. A bad dream. The kind the villain chases his victims everywhere to make them livid with fear.
Except this wasn't.
This office. Those dangerous black eyes staring at me with nothing but murderous intent.
Everything was real.
BLOODY REAL!
My throat felt clogged and dry.
Be brave, Ayla Thorne!
I inhaled deeply, trying on a professional smile as I sat straight in the chair.
His gaze warmed my face and my body's unwilling reaction infuriated me more.
His expression didn't shift or change. He just stared at me lazily as heat framed my temple.
His calloused hands tapped gently on the table.
I wondered if those hands had ever killed a man because they looked so scarred not to have.
My gaze drifted to the window, but I could hardly see anything because I was suddenly hyper aware of him.
He picked up a file from the table. A part of my brain felt like it was the resume I'd submitted during the online application.
"Ayla Thorne."
Again, he said my name with that cadence that felt wrong and inappropriate.
"Twenty two. College graduate. No skills indicated. No experience."
I bit down my lower lip.
What was the point in reading out some details on the file?
I thought the mail said this was an interview? Wasn't he supposed to ask me questions and have a proper 'interview'?
"You're not qualified for the position of a personal secretary." He said dryly, slamming the document on the table.
I stifled the anger building up.
I held the file in my hand tightly,
I didn't want to believe I'd spent fifty bucks on a cab coming here just to hear this shit.
"Then why did I get an email asking me to come for an interview?" I asked, tone clipped…
"Probably a mistake. You're not fit for any role in this company. Not even the role of a cleaner." He said, mockingly.
If I ever thought he looked like the devil, right now, I hated him for sounding like one.
"Very well. I'll take my leave." I stood up to leave
"Sit!" He said with that tone that was used to offering offhanded orders to people.
I didn't.
I was nobody's fucking flock of sheep to be tossed around.
Before I took another step, two armed men appeared through the door.
Incredible. Just fucking incredible!
Danger dressed in a white shirt was still danger.
Hollow eyes stared at me with guns in their hands like they could kill me and have my body incinerated within minutes and no one would ever find me.
Not Millie.
Not Dad.
Not Ricco—my boss at the coffee shop.
Not even Matteo —if he ever decided to do right by me.
Okay.
I turned back and sat down.
I wasn't ready to have my life ended.
"Good girl." He said like I was some fucking animal he'd successfully tamed.
I muttered an expletive.
"You don't qualify for the position of being my personal secretary."
"I heard that before. Got something new?" I asked smoothly.
He smiled briefly, straightened from his seat, circled the table and came to stand behind me.
My breath faltered when his scent hit my nostrils.
He bent slowly, and stopped right behind my ears. He whispered, "don't fucking talk to me in that tone again."
I swallowed.
He stood, walked back to his table and sat down. "Now that I've got your attention, I've got a proposition for you."
Just great.
I'm fucking sure whatever he had to say had nothing to do with this job.
One of the men behind moved towards him and muttered something and I saw a muscle flinch in his face.
He pulled out another document from a drawer and shoved it towards me.
"Read."
I didn't pick it.
"You said you have an offer. I never said I was interested." I said with equal sass.
One of the men moved towards me.
He held a hand, "Leave the red-hair alone."
"Don't call me that!"
He held my gaze. "I'll call you whatever I want. Now read!"
It wasn't a suggestion.
I picked up the document and read.
"I'm not doing this!" I spat, taking my gaze off the document.
"Read!" He ordered, watching me.
I did and finally lowered the document. "A personal secretary and surrogate mom?"
Holy Mary!
I knew one thing I wasn't bloody hell getting myself involved into was this deal.
"Yes or Yes?"
"None. I'm not signing anything and you can't force me "
He stroked a hand on his chin.
"I could force you but that's not the point." His tone was dark but somehow it awoke a thrill beneath my skin.
"The perks are quite tempting if you should consider. Didn't you mention you needed a raise? Those college loans won't pay themselves off. And I believe your father's medical bills are quite a lot…" he sucked a tooth.
"How do you know that?" I gave him a cynical stare, "why am I even surprised? Men like you can get anything you want."
He simply stroked his lower lip with his ring finger. He didn't respond to me.
"This is against the law!"
"The law?" He chuckled darkly, "There are no laws to doing what's in the contract. And don't try to convince yourself that you're special."
"I am special." I breathed.
His gaze came down to me. "I could triple the money if you want. How much do you need for college loans?."
I thought about his offer. It felt like nothing but a fucking trap.
"It's none of your business." I hissed.
"I think you'll need Nico to show you what I can do to people who make me repeat myself."
A brief pause followed.
"Two hundred and fifty six thousand dollars." I blurted,
"The medical bills?"
"Two hundred and ninety three thousand. That's besides insurance."
He stood from his seat, came around and sat half-assed on the desk, one hand in his pocket, the other stroking his lips like he was savoring the advantages of my situation.
I think it was an unconscious habit he'd grown into anytime he thought about how to make people sell their souls to him.
I really did not like this man—I really did not.
I needed money for dad's medical bills and college loans but was any of it worth my life?
Cassian Moretti was asking me not just to be his personal secretary but to carry his child! The fucking bastard was trying to buy me into his bed!
God knew I wasn't cheap. But trying to buy me? It was off the limit.
"I'd clear your entire debt. Make sure your dad gets proper medical attention. It's really easy and nothing for me." He smirked, "Plus, you get five million dollars after the job's done."
"I'm not for sale." I said through clenched teeth.
The fuck! I couldn't even save that much if I had to work for years clearing college loans and dad's medical bills.
This man was really the devil.
"Yes or Yes?" Cassian's cold indifference pulled my attention to his face.
I held his gaze. "None."
I wasn't going to let anyone cajole me into doing anything stupid.
"You do realize once you step out of this premises you can't get any job offer from anyone."
The perfect trick.
He was bluffing.
I definitely would get another job, and I could tell this was just a ploy to make me accept his stupid offer.
"I'm just…concerned for you and your dad."
"I don't think you should concern yourself with whatever happens in my life or with my dad." I said, holding my file closer to my body and getting up.
He didn't ask me to but as far as I was concerned, this conversation was over.
One of the men at the door had his cold eyes at the back of my head, like he wanted to fucking have my brains out. I know this because I could see his reflection from the glass panelled into the sides of the table.
"One week, Ayla." He said my name in a professional tone; the way he should have from the beginning. "You have one week to make a decision."
I turned and walked out of the office, looking over my shoulders as I walked, my heart was pounding too fast. I didn't hear the footsteps approaching until I bumped into something solid and warm.
I stepped back and met a pair of stormy-hazel eyes gazing into mine.
"Sorry." I muttered, stepped aside, and ran for the elevator.
Once outside the building, I released air I didn't know I'd been holding.
If there was ever the gut feeling I'd had when I met Cassian Moretti, this meeting was the sign he was clearly a danger I needed to avoid.