The sun lit up the glass walls of Sterling Tower, the steel giant casting its shadow across half the block. The building always looked intimidating, but today, to Amara Blake, it looked almost menacing.
She clutched her coffee a little too tightly as she stood on the sidewalk, watching the way the revolving doors spun with a ceaseless rhythm. Men and women in sharp suits swept in and out, their strides purposeful, their conversations clipped. None of them hesitated. None of them doubted.
Amara forced herself to move forward.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she entered the lobby, the polished surfaces gleaming beneath the morning rush. The security guard nodded at her, and she gave a small, polite smile before stepping into the elevator.
As the steel doors closed, she caught her reflection in the mirrored panel: poised on the outside, yet her eyes betrayed nerves. She pressed her lips together, inhaled slowly.
Today wasn't just another day. Today was her first time in the boardroom the inner sanctum of Sterling Enterprises.
And she could already feel the wolves sharpening their teeth.
The boardroom was a vast space of glass and dark wood, perched high above the city. A full view stretched behind Damian Sterling as he sat at the head of the table, skyscrapers sprawling beneath him like subjects bowing to a king.
He didn't look at Amara when she slipped inside with her notepad and tablet, but she felt his presence immediately. It was impossible not to his silence commanded more than most people's words ever could.
Executives filled the long table, their conversations low and edged with calculation. And at Damian's right, lounging with the ease of a predator who knew his territory, sat Adrian Cole.
Amara's stomach clenched.
Last night in the garage, his casual observation had unsettled her. Today, in daylight, with that polished smile and watchful gaze, he was far more dangerous.
"Let's begin," Damian said, his voice cool steel.
The chatter silenced instantly.
For the first thirty minutes, Amara managed her role with practiced precision. She typed notes as discussions volleyed around the table, memorizing faces and voices, catching the way Damian tilted his chin when he wanted her to highlight a particular point.
But when the conversation shifted toward a potential merger with a European firm, the air changed. The table turned restless, voices clashing. Some executives pressed for aggression; others warned of overreach.
It was then Adrian struck.
"We all know the Sterling way," he said smoothly, lounging back in his chair. "Push fast, push hard, hope the fall doesn't come too soon. But reckless ambition costs more than it earns. Isn't that right, Miss Blake?"
The room stilled.
Every eye turned to her.
Her pulse spiked, fingers stiff over the keyboard. He had dragged her in deliberately she wasn't supposed to speak. She was here to observe, not to offer opinions.
Damian's gaze flicked to her, dark and unreadable. The challenge was in his silence.
Her throat tightened. She could remain quiet and look weak, or she could answer and risk misstepping.
Amara's voice came out steadier than she felt. "I think ambition only becomes reckless when it isn't backed by preparation. Sterling Enterprises doesn't make impulsive moves. Every risk is calculated."
A hum rippled through the table. Some raised brows. Adrian's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing.
Damian's jaw ticked once, but his voice remained calm. "Noted."
And just like that, the meeting rolled on. But Amara knew the balance had shifted. She had been seen.
When the session finally adjourned, she exhaled sharply, gathering her tablet. The buzz of departing executives filled the room. She kept her eyes low, praying to slip out quietly.
"Miss Blake. Stay."
The command froze her mid step.
Slowly, she looked back. Damian remained seated, his gaze pinned on her like a hawk.
The others filed out, Adrian among them. He lingered at the door, lips twitching in a smile that promised more trouble, before disappearing.
Now it was only her and Damian.
"Do you make it a habit of speaking out of turn?" he asked, his tone smooth but edged.
She straightened. "He addressed me directly. I didn't want to"
"You didn't want to embarrass yourself," Damian cut in. "But what you did was put yourself on the board's radar. They'll dissect every word, every gesture."
Her pulse hammered. She hated that he was right.
But pride stiffened her spine. "Would you rather I let him undermine you? Without defense?"
A pause. Silence stretched, taut.
Then, to her shock, Damian's mouth curved into the faintest, most dangerous smile. "Clever. But don't confuse cleverness with control. You're in my world now. And in my world…" He leaned forward, eyes locking hers. "Every move you make belongs to me."
Her breath caught.
Before she could reply, the door clicked open again.
Adrian leaned casually against the frame. "Am I interrupting?"
"No," Damian said flatly. "We're done."
Amara slipped out, acutely aware of both men's eyes burning into her back one a warning, the other a promise.
The day only worsened from there.
By noon, Damian had buried her desk beneath a mountain of assignments: research briefs, correspondence drafts, scheduling conflicts to resolve. Each task carried impossible deadlines, as if he wanted to test how long she could last before breaking.
She typed furiously, fingers cramping, coffee cooling untouched.
Every so often, Adrian would appear, leaning on her desk like he belonged there. "You've got fire," he murmured once, voice pitched low. "Be careful not to let him burn it out of you."
She forced a tight smile, ignoring the heat crawling up her neck.
By three o'clock, exhaustion dragged at her bones. By five, her head throbbed. But she finished every last demand.
When her phone pinged with a new message, her stomach dropped.
Damian Sterling: My office. Now!
His office was dimly lit, the city skyline glowing behind him like a crown. Damian stood at the window, hands in his pockets, broad shoulders outlined by the fading light.
"Sit," he said without turning.
She obeyed, clutching her notepad though she didn't know why.
He finally turned, eyes sweeping over her face. "You kept up today."
She swallowed. "I handled what you asked."
"You survived." His voice was like a blade, sharp enough to cut. "But survival isn't the same as victory. You think quick, Miss Blake. I'll give you that. But quickness without discipline is dangerous."
Frustration flared, breaking through her fatigue. "What do you want from me, Mr. Sterling? To fail? To break? Or to prove myself?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then Damian stepped closer, shadows deepening the sharp planes of his face. "What I want…" His voice dropped, velvet and steel. "…is to see exactly how far you'll go."
Her heart thudded painfully.
And in that moment, with his gaze consuming hers, Amara realized her worst day wasn't ending anytime soon.
It was only just beginning.