The city hummed with noise, but inside the sleek glass tower of Blackwood Enterprises, it was silent enough to hear her own heartbeat.
Elena Blake smoothed the front of her navy blouse for the third time and adjusted the strap of her tote bag. This was it. The biggest interview of her life—and her last shot at staying in the city. Rent was due. Her savings were nearly gone. And if she didn't get this job, she'd be on the next bus back to her small hometown.
She stepped into the elevator, nodding politely at the receptionist, her palms sweating despite the cold steel around her. Floor 27—executive level. Her stomach twisted.
The doors opened with a soft ding. Minimalist decor, clean lines, and silence greeted her. A woman in a tight black dress and a Bluetooth headset gave her a polite nod.
"Miss Blake?"
"Yes," Elena replied, her voice tighter than she expected.
"Mr. Blackwood will see you now."
She blinked. *Mr. Blackwood?* The CEO himself?
Before she could ask questions, she was led down the hall to a massive office with floor-to-ceiling windows. And that's when her world stopped.
Behind the desk stood a man she hadn't seen in four years—but could never forget.
*Damon Blackwood.*
Her first love.
Her greatest heartbreak.
He looked even more intimidating than she remembered—tailored suit, sharp jaw, cold eyes that used to burn with warmth when they looked at her.
He didn't flinch when their eyes met.
"Elena Blake," he said, cool and professional, like her name meant nothing to him. "Have a seat."
She sat, gripping her bag tight, trying to hide the shake in her hands. *He doesn't recognize me,* she thought. Or maybe he was pretending not to.
"I reviewed your résumé," he continued, flipping through the pages. "Impressive GPA. No corporate experience."
She swallowed. "I had to take care of my mother during college. I worked part-time."
"Blackwood Enterprises doesn't usually take chances on people without experience," he said flatly.
Ouch.
"But I'm not asking for a chance," she replied, forcing strength into her voice. "I'm asking for a test. Let me prove myself."
For the first time, something flickered in his expression.
He looked up, really looked at her. Recognition flashed in his eyes—and then it vanished, replaced with ice.
"You start Monday," he said.
She blinked. "Wait... what?"
"You have one week to prove you belong here," Damon said. "Don't waste it."
She stood slowly, nodding. "Thank you... sir."
As she turned to leave, her heart pounded. So he *did* remember her. He just didn't care.
But as the door clicked shut behind her, Damon leaned back in his chair, jaw clenched.
He remembered everything.