They warned her about working at Valen Corp.
High turnover. Ruthless leadership. A CEO with a reputation for being cold, brilliant—and impossible to read.
No one warned Lana Hart about the way he looked at you. Like he could see straight through your clothes… and straight into your soul.
She was only here for the interview.
She didn't expect to end up in his office alone.
Didn't expect him.
Kieran Valen.
He sat behind a sleek black desk, no clutter, no emotion. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind him cast shadows over his sharp features. His gaze flicked up when she entered—and didn't move.
He didn't speak. Didn't gesture for her to sit. He just… watched her.
Lana's fingers curled tightly around her resume.
"Miss Hart," he said finally. His voice was low, steady, with the kind of control that made her legs tense. "You're five minutes early."
"I like to be prepared," she answered, her voice too soft for her liking.
He smiled—but it didn't reach his eyes. "Good. I value efficiency."
He still hadn't looked away.
Or blinked.
"I've read your application. You've worked under demanding executives before?"
"Yes, sir."
"Were they all men?"
She hesitated. "Some."
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze sliding over her like heat. "And how did you handle being... under them?"
The words weren't exactly inappropriate. But the way he said under sent something dark rippling through her.
"I handled my job professionally," she replied, lifting her chin.
He stood slowly. Lana's breath caught. He was tall, taller than she expected, and when he stepped around the desk, she realized she'd made a mistake.
She should've walked away the second he looked at her like that.
Because now she was trapped under that stare.
He came closer, stopping just in front of her. She could smell his cologne—clean, masculine, intoxicating. His hands slipped into his pockets as he studied her with quiet hunger.
"You'll find I'm very particular, Miss Hart," he said smoothly. "I like things a certain way. My coffee strong, my files color-coded, and my assistant…"
He paused, eyes dropping to her mouth.
"…obedient."
Her lips parted.
"I understand, sir."
His gaze burned into hers. "I don't think you do. But you will."
The interview lasted ten minutes.
She was hired on the spot.
---
Day One.
Lana's heels clicked across the marble floor, nerves fluttering like moths in her stomach.
His office was at the top of the tower. Floor 58. Accessed only by private elevator.
No one else was allowed up unless he approved it.
And today, she had been summoned.
She adjusted her skirt and pressed the button.
The doors opened.
He was already inside.
Kieran Valen.
He didn't smile. "Miss Hart."
"Sir."
She stepped in. The doors slid shut.
Silence.
The floor didn't move.
"Going up?" she asked.
His gaze slid to hers. "We're already there."
The air between them was electric. Dangerous.
"Tell me something," he said, voice low. "Have you read your contract?"
"Yes."
"All of it?"
She hesitated. There was a clause—personal discretion. She'd skimmed it.
Kieran moved closer. "That clause gives me full authority over what happens behind closed doors. As my assistant, that includes this elevator."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Sir—"
He backed her into the mirrored wall with no effort. One arm braced beside her head. His scent wrapped around her like a spell.
"You're not stupid, Miss Hart," he said softly. "You knew who I was before you stepped into this office."
Her breathing was shallow.
"And yet," he murmured, "you showed up. In that skirt. With that mouth."
Her lips parted to argue, but he wasn't done.
"You think I don't see it?" he whispered, his mouth near her ear. "How your eyes flick to my hands. How your thighs press together when I speak."
She gasped—but didn't deny it.
"Tell me to stop," he said.
She didn't.
He didn't either.
His hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing just hard enough to make her body ache.
"You're mine now, Lana," he said against her throat.
Then, as quickly as it started—he stepped back.
The elevator dinged.
She was breathless. Shaken. Wanting.
He adjusted his cufflinks like nothing happened. "We have a 9:15 meeting. Don't be late."
And then he walked out, leaving her against the wall, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest.
---
Later that night, Lana sat on the edge of her bed, replaying the moment over and over.
She wasn't stupid.
That wasn't a flirtation. That was a warning.
This wasn't going to be an ordinary job.
Not with a man like Kieran Valen.
He didn't want a secretary.
He wanted something else entirely.
And somehow, she knew—
He'd already decided she was going to give it to him.