The elevator doors slid open and I stepped into the marble lobby, clutching my folder so tightly the edges bent against my palms. Interviews never scared me. I'd done dozens before. But this one felt different. Bigger.
Mensah Group wasn't a company you worked at to pass the time. It was the kind of empire people built careers on. And at the top of it sat Damian Mensah—the CEO I had only heard about in articles, whispered conversations, and rumors that carried more fear than admiration.
I told myself it didn't matter. I wasn't here for him. I was here for the job.
I glanced at the directory board on the wall and turned the corner too quickly, the heel of my shoe clicking against the polished floor.
And that's when it happened.
I crashed straight into someone. My folder flew from my hands, papers scattering across the floor like white feathers. My shoulder slammed against a chest that felt more like stone than flesh.
"I—" My voice caught. "I'm so sorry."
I crouched down to gather my documents, cheeks burning. A large hand reached the floor at the same time, picking up a sheet before I could.
"Interview?" His voice was deep, calm, but edged with impatience.
I looked up. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. Dark eyes locked on mine, steady and unblinking. His suit was tailored to perfection, not a crease out of place. His expression carried the kind of authority that didn't need an introduction.
"Yes," I managed, forcing my voice steady. "Secretary position."
He handed me the paper. Our fingers brushed, and I pulled back too quickly. His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary.
"Be careful next time," he said. Not unkind, but not gentle either. Then he walked past me, his stride measured, confident, as though the entire building bent around his presence.
I watched him disappear into the elevator. My chest tightened. Something told me that wasn't the last time I'd see him.
Minutes later, I was led into the executive office on the top floor.
The same man sat behind the desk.
Damian Mensah.
He didn't look surprised. He didn't look amused either. He simply gestured to the chair across from him. "Miss Torres."
So he remembered my name.
I sat, smoothing my skirt. My pulse hammered in my ears.
"Your résumé is impressive," he said, scanning the folder I'd placed on his desk. "You've worked under demanding executives before."
"Yes, Mr. Mensah," I said. "I don't shy away from responsibility."
His eyes lifted from the paper to me. The intensity in them was sharp enough to make me grip my hands together under the desk.
"And loyalty?" he asked.
"I value it," I replied. "Both giving and receiving."
Something flickered in his expression. Approval? Amusement? I couldn't tell.
The interview went on, each question sharper than the last. He didn't waste words. He tested me, pushed me, searched for cracks. But I didn't give him any. If he wanted to break me down, he'd have to try harder.
Finally, he set the folder aside.
"You start Monday."
Relief surged through me, but his next words cut through it.
"Understand this, Miss Torres." His tone lowered, his gaze steady. "Working for me is not easy. You will see things, hear things, be placed in situations that test you. I don't need perfection. I need loyalty. To me, and only me. Do you understand?"
I held his stare. "Yes, Mr. Mensah."
For a moment, silence filled the space. Then the corner of his mouth lifted, almost like a smile, but too faint to be called one.
"Good."
He dismissed me with a nod. I stood, gathered my folder, and walked toward the door.
When I opened it, someone else was waiting in the hall. He leaned casually against the wall, a grin on his face, his posture relaxed in a way that immediately contrasted the man behind the desk.
"New hire?" he asked, his voice warm, teasing.
"Yes," I replied cautiously.
"I'm Cory." He extended his hand. "Damian's brother."
I shook it. His grip was firm, but his smile was lighter than his brother's stare. "Welcome to Mensah Group. You'll need luck."
Before I could respond, Damian's voice came from behind me.
"Cory."
The warmth in the hallway froze. I turned slightly, caught between the two brothers, one with a piercing gaze, the other with a disarming smile.
Cory winked at me. "See you around, Miss Torres."
I stepped into the elevator, my folder clutched tightly again. My reflection in the polished steel doors stared back at me, wide-eyed and unsteady.
This job was supposed to be about work. Nothing more.
But the way Damian had looked at me… and the way Cory's smile lingered…
I already knew this wasn't going to be simple.