Emilia's POV
By the time Emilia made it home that evening, her legs felt like jelly. Her first week at Volkov International had drained every ounce of energy from her. She slammed the apartment door shut and let out a dramatic groan, collapsing face-first onto the couch.
From the kitchen, Lily—her best friend and roommate—peeked out with an amused grin. "Rough day, sunshine?"
Emilia mumbled into the cushion, "Kill me now."
Lily laughed, coming to sit by her. She tugged on Emilia's long hair playfully. "So… how's the new boss? Is he as devilishly handsome as the rumors say?"
Emilia rolled onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. "Handsome? Sure. Devilishly? Absolutely. But not in the good way. He's arrogant, rude, and thinks he owns the world. Ugh."
"Oh no," Lily teased, raising an eyebrow. "You hate him already? That bad?"
"I don't just hate him. I loathe him," Emilia declared dramatically, throwing her arm over her eyes. "He looks at me like I'm stupid every time I breathe wrong. And he's a total playboy. I'm pretty sure he's had three different women in his office this week alone. Not exactly inspiring."
Lily chuckled, but her expression softened. "Sounds awful. But hey… it's just an internship, Em. You don't need his approval to do well. Just keep your head down and survive."
Easier said than done. Emilia thought back to how her pulse betrayed her when his hand brushed hers. The heat that rose to her cheeks whenever his dark eyes lingered on her. She hated it—hated how her body seemed to respond to him even when her brain screamed run.
"I don't even want his approval," Emilia muttered, mostly to herself. "I just want to get through this without embarrassing myself any more than I already have."
Lily squeezed her hand. "You'll be fine. And if he gives you too much trouble, I'll march into that shiny skyscraper myself and set him straight."
That earned a laugh from Emilia, tension easing just a little. She loved Lily like a sister—steady, supportive, always her anchor. With her parents miles away in another state, Emilia couldn't imagine facing this city without her.
But still… her thoughts drifted back, unbidden, to a pair of dark eyes that seemed to see straight through her.
Adrian's POV
Across town, Adrian sat in the back of a dimly lit club, the bass of heavy music thumping in the distance, though the private room was nearly silent. The smell of whiskey and smoke hung in the air.
His younger brother, Marco, slammed a file onto the table. "We've got a problem."
Adrian leaned back lazily, a cigarette between his fingers, eyes narrowing. "When don't we?"
"This is bigger. The Vitale family's been moving in on our docks. Two shipments already went missing." Marco's voice was tight, angry. "That's millions lost, Adrian."
Adrian's jaw flexed as he exhaled smoke. "And the men guarding it?"
Marco hesitated. "Dead. Two shot. One's missing."
The room went colder.
Adrian stubbed out his cigarette and leaned forward, his sharp features carved in shadow. "They think they can test me." His voice was low, dangerous. "Then they'll learn the cost of crossing a Volkov."
Marco ran a hand through his hair. "You can't just storm in guns blazing. We need to think this through."
Adrian's lips twisted into a humorless smirk. "You worry too much, brother. That's why I lead, and you follow."
But even as he spoke, the weight pressed heavier in his chest. Rival families were always circling like wolves. The empire their father built was always under threat. It had made Adrian cruel, calculating—he had no choice.
The waitress came in with another round of whiskey, her eyes lingering on him. Adrian didn't bother returning the look. He had already fucked her once, maybe twice, he couldn't even remember. Women blurred together.
Except one.
For a split second, the image of Emilia Hart flickered in his mind—her clumsy hands dropping papers, the way her cheeks turned pink when he mocked her. She wasn't like this world, wasn't like these women. Too soft. Too breakable.
He shoved the thought aside, coldness snapping back into place.
"She's just an intern," Adrian muttered under his breath.
Marco glanced at him. "What?"
"Nothing." Adrian downed the whiskey in one sharp gulp, letting the burn wash away the weakness. There was no room for distraction.
Not when blood was about to spill.
Emilia's POV
Later that night, Emilia sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop glowing in front of her. Lily was painting her nails at the desk, humming softly.
But Emilia wasn't paying attention. Her thoughts wandered back, again and again, to Adrian Volkov.
Why did his presence crawl under her skin like that? Why did she notice how broad his shoulders were, or the way his voice dipped lower when he was annoyed? Why couldn't she just focus on her work like a normal person?
She shook her head and shut the laptop with a groan. "Nope. Not thinking about him. Not tonight."
But the harder she tried not to… the more his face lingered in her mind.