I was caught off guard when number four showed up for her interview. I'd seen her on the screen earlier, and she did what most applicants couldn't—she improvised, right on the spot. At first, I couldn't make out her face clearly, but something told me if I didn't hire her, it'd be my loss. We need minds like hers—sharp, quick, adaptable. I'd expected her to walk in barefoot after what I saw, but there she was, striding in confidently, mimicking the grace of high heels though she had none. It was oddly impressive.
But then she introduced herself—and her voice. That voice. It sounded just like Kiara. I didn't mean to snap at her, but hearing her talk lit something inside me. Rage. Unchecked and sharp. In my mind, she morphed into the woman I couldn't forget or forgive. I thought she'd flinch, back down. But no—this girl was all fire and tongue. She left the room with the same composure she came in with, and I... I felt like I'd just lost a battle I didn't plan on fighting.
Afterward, I could tell some of my associates were taken with her. Emma. Even I couldn't deny she was more qualified than the others—quietly competent. They admired her confidence, that strange aura she had, like she belonged wherever she went. But I wasn't fooled. It was all an act, a performance to win them over. Still, I couldn't shake the unease in my chest, so I did what I always do—called my boys and went drinking.
We hit one of the clubs I owned. Josh and Justin Miller—fashion industry kings, notorious womanizers—tagged along. But I was too consumed by my thoughts to enjoy anything. Eventually, the twins excused themselves, claiming they were headed to the restroom. I knew better. They'd found some eye candy, no doubt.
They were taking longer than usual, though, which made me curious. Just as I stood to check, my phone rang.
"Mother," I answered, already impatient.
"Well, is that how you greet your elders now, Alex? I see you've grown wings. Listen, I overheard your father talking to Mr. Blossom," she said, her tone more serious than usual.
"Can we skip the drama today? Just tell me what they were discussing," I replied, my patience wearing thin.
"They're planning to announce your engagement to Lucy next week at the company's annual celebration," she said. "You know I want you to be happy. I don't think this arrangement is right, but please, just play along for now. I'll try to talk your father down."
"Don't worry, Mom," I said with a bitter smirk. "If he wants to play games, then so be it. Lucy will regret ever being matched with me. Seems like Dad's in a rush to get me tied down."
"You know how he is. The older he gets, the more stubborn he becomes," she said with a sigh. "Just go along with it for now."
"Alright, Mom. I'm hanging up."
"And Alex," she added, "find someone you want to be with. I want grandbabies to spoil and brag about at tea parties."
She hung up, leaving me half amused, half furious. I headed toward the main dance floor—and that's when I saw the twins again, seated with three women. They were laughing, clearly enjoying themselves. That's when I heard it—her voice again. Kiara's.
My chest tightened. What the hell was she doing at my club?
I stormed closer, only to realize the voice was coming from the woman sitting with Josh and Justin—the same woman whose face I hadn't seen yet. Emma. That damn girl. So it wasn't Kiara, but that voice… it messed with my head. I heard my name in their conversation. My blood was boiling.
Then one of her friends called me an arrogant bastard—the devil, even. I snapped.
I lost it.
All control vanished as I lunged at Emma, my hands around her neck before I even realized what I was doing. I wanted to see the fear in her eyes, the helplessness. But she didn't flinch. Not once. She looked me in the eye, fierce and unbothered, and told me to let her go.
And I did.
Then she punched me. Hard.
Blood gushed from my nose. No ordinary woman could've thrown a punch like that. She and her friends left, while Josh and Justin scrambled to get me to the hospital. The doctor said I was lucky—no fracture, but it was swollen and would need ice for a few days.
By the time we got back to my apartment, I was fuming. I locked myself in my study—my usual hideout when I didn't want the Miller twins poking into my thoughts. A few minutes later, I heard the car pull out. They were gone. I texted them a quick "travel safe" and sat alone, brooding.
My mother's words echoed in my head. My father was really serious about this marriage crap. He's always been controlling. Hell, he sent Thomas overseas just because he didn't want to study finance. Now look at him—thriving in the art world, running his own business.
As I sat there, one thing became clear—Lucy Blossom was going to hate me. I was going to make sure of it. I wasn't ready to get married, especially not to someone like her. Just as I was about to get up and shower, my phone buzzed again.
"Father," I greeted him, tone flat.
"You no longer call or visit. Don't tell me you've abandoned your own blood for some woman," he started, as expected.
"I've just been busy with work. I'll come by this weekend for dinner, alright?" I offered.
"That reminds me. Mr. Blossom was over today. We struck a promising deal, and it got us talking. You and Lucy should get married—perfect way to seal the partnership. We'll announce the engagement at the company event."
"What?" I asked, stunned.
"It's simple. You've known each other for years. This is good for both families," he said casually.
"You promised you'd never interfere in my relationships."
"Don't raise your voice at me," he snapped. "You'll get engaged to Lucy and that's final. Otherwise, I'll sell the company and take your mother traveling around the world."
"Father, listen—"
"No. Tomorrow, take the day off. Lucy will visit you. Take her out. Be civil. Don't disappoint me," he ordered, and then hung up.
Fuming, I grabbed a whiskey bottle and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, glass flying, the alcohol soaking into the sofa below.
Just as I tried to calm down, my phone buzzed again. This time it was from HR.
Emma Stone has been officially hired as your new secretary.
I stared at the message, trembling with rage.
That voice, that attitude... She reminded me too much of Kiara.
But now she's under my roof. And that confidence? I'll tear it apart piece by piece. Emma Stone thinks she's clever. But I'll show her just how brutal hell can feel.