Amara's Point of View
Amara arrived fifteen minutes early. She always believed in showing up prepared, but today, it wasn't just about professionalism — it was about proving to herself that she could stand in this place and belong.
Blackwood Enterprises was even more intimidating during business hours. Executives moved with purpose, assistants clicked past her in heels, and the quiet hum of efficiency filled every corner. It was easy to feel invisible here — yet she didn't want to be. Not entirely.
She had never worked in such a high-pressure environment before, but she adjusted quickly. She took mental notes, memorized faces, understood routines. There was something calming about being useful — about having tasks that kept her mind too busy to wander back to heartbreak.
Still, she was hyperaware of him.
Mr. Blackwood barely spoke. He gave instructions sparingly, always short and sharp. But his presence was heavy — like a weight that filled every corner of the room when he entered. She felt it each time he passed behind her chair. She felt it in the stillness of his office, in the silence of his gaze.
He never looked at her for long. But she could feel his eyes on her, sometimes before she even turned. She didn't understand it — didn't want to overthink it. But deep down, something unfamiliar stirred. Not fear. Not discomfort. Something warmer. Something dangerous.
She wasn't trying to get his attention. Yet when he gave it, even briefly, her heartbeat changed rhythm.
He was her boss. And she needed this job. But already, she knew he was unlike anyone she'd ever worked for — and maybe, anyone she'd ever met.
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Adrian's Point of View
He watched her from behind the tinted glass of his office — not always directly, but enough to notice everything.
She was efficient. Focused. Faster than expected. She asked the right questions when necessary, stayed quiet when it mattered. And more importantly, she didn't try to impress him. She simply did the work. That alone made her stand out.
But it wasn't just her competence. It was the way she occupied space without demanding it. The way her hair caught the light when she leaned forward. The way her fingers moved across the keyboard, steady and graceful