Lucian's POV
I should have forgotten her the moment the door shut.
I had dismissed a thousand applicants in my life, and she was no different—unqualified, fragile, desperate. My world didn't have room for weakness. And yet…
The pastries.
They sat on my desk long after she left, an unwanted reminder of a girl who didn't know her place. I should have thrown them away, but instead, I ate every single one. Slowly. Carefully. Like a man starving for something he couldn't name.
I didn't know why.
It wasn't just the taste—it was the effort, the quiet defiance in leaving them when I'd already rejected her. That… unsettled me. Most people grovel. She left something of herself behind.
That night, I couldn't get it out of my head. Not the food. Not the girl. The way her eyes had tried to mask humiliation but failed. The way her voice trembled but didn't break.
I told myself it was curiosity when I ordered my secretary to find her. Nothing more.
By the time she walked back into my office, I had convinced myself of it. Curiosity. Nothing else.
She stood there in that plain dress, looking so out of place against the polished walls of my world. Her hands were folded tightly in front of her, as if she was bracing herself for another rejection.
"Miss Elara Hayes," I said, letting her name linger on my tongue. "You're punctual. Good."
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to ask why she was here, but thought better of it.
I studied her for a long moment, letting the silence stretch. Her file sat on my desk, thin and unimpressive. And yet, she had already given me something no one else had in years—surprise.
"You don't belong in an office," I said finally. Her shoulders stiffened, shame flashing across her face. I let it hang there for a beat before continuing. "But there may be another place where your… talents are of use."
Her brows furrowed, hope flickering in her eyes despite her attempt to hide it.
I leaned forward, steepling my fingers. "I require additional staff at my private residence. It's demanding work. Long hours. Absolute discretion. If you fail me there, there will be no second chances."
I saw her inhale sharply, saw the war in her eyes between pride and desperation.
And for reasons I refused to name, I wanted her to say yes.