The Blackwood building loomed like a glass dagger against the morning sky. Natalie stood across the street, watching the polished professionals stream through its rotating doors. Each one looked like they belonged, sharp, confident, purposeful. She smoothed the wrinkles from her only business dress, a simple black shift she'd worn to Adrian's charity events. Today, it felt like a costume from someone else's life.
Her phone showed 7:45 AM. Fifteen minutes early. Perfect.
The lobby was a cathedral of cold elegance, polished black marble floors, walls of dark glass, silent except for the whisper of elevators. A security guard directed her to a private elevator without smiling. "Penthouse suite. Mr. Black is expecting you."
The elevator opened directly into his office. No receptionist. No waiting area. Just Lucas Black standing at a wall of windows, his back to her, watching the city awaken below.
He turned slowly. "Ms. Evans." His voice was deeper than she'd expected, with a rough edge that sounded rarely used. "You're early."
"Natalie," she corrected, her voice echoing in the vast space.
He gestured to a single chair facing his desk. "Sit."
She sat, her knees trembling. He remained standing, circling her like a predator examining new prey. He was taller than she'd imagined, with sharp features and eyes the color of winter ice, pale, penetrating, missing nothing.
"Your application was... unconventional." He stopped behind her chair. She could feel his presence like physical pressure. "Most people submit resumes. You submitted corporate espionage."
"It's not espionage if it's from memory," she said, forcing her voice steady.
He moved to face her, leaning against his desk. "Why would the wife of Adrian Steele want to help me destroy him?"
"Ex-wife," she corrected. "And he's trying to destroy me first."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "The pregnancy."
So he knew. Of course he knew.
"He called it an impediment," she said, meeting his gaze directly. "I call it motivation."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "And what do you want from me, Natalie Evans?"
"A job. A chance. And a front-row seat when you take him down."
He picked up a tablet from his desk, scrolling through data. "Steele Industries' shipping division. Their Q2 projections are overstated by 18%. How did you know?"
"Adrian bragged about it at a dinner party. He said his accountants were geniuses for hiding the supply chain issues."
"And the HR complaints against his operations VP?"
"He told me he was keeping them quiet until after the merger. He said the VP was too valuable to lose."
Lucas placed the tablet down. "You had an interesting marriage."
"Had."
He resumed his circling. "Let's say I hire you. What stops you from running back to him when he offers to forgive you?"
"He scheduled an abortion without asking me." The words hung in the air, cold and sharp. "There's no coming back from that."
For the first time, something shifted in his expression. Not sympathy, calculation. "And if I ask you to target his shipping division first? The one he built from scratch?"
Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was the test. "I'll give you every weakness I know."
"Even if it means putting thousands of people out of work?"
"Adrian should have thought of them before he leveraged their jobs against risky expansions." She parroted his own business philosophy back at him, the words tasting bitter. "Isn't that what you'd say?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "You've done your homework on me."
"I don't walk into battles unprepared."
He stopped in front of her, his gaze intense. "Why me? There are other competitors."
"Because you're the only one he fears." She leaned forward, her hands gripping the chair arms. "He calls you a shark. He has meetings about how to contain you. He loses sleep over you."
"And that appeals to you?"
"Right now, everything that keeps him awake at night appeals to me."
The room fell silent. She could hear her own breathing, could feel the weight of his assessment. This wasn't just about her knowledge, it was about her nerve. How far would she go? How much of herself was she willing to sacrifice for revenge?
"Tell me about the Zurich Trust loan," he said suddenly.
She didn't hesitate. "It's collateralized against Steele Industries' main headquarters. If the shipping division fails, he loses everything."
"And you're willing to be the one to push it over the edge?"
She thought of the baby growing inside her. Of the motel room. Of Adrian's cold dismissal. "Yes."
He studied her for a long moment, his eyes tracing the lines of her face, the tension in her shoulders. She felt laid bare, every secret exposed.
"You're afraid," he observed.
"Of course I'm afraid. I have everything to lose."
"Good." He nodded once. "Fear makes people careful. And I need someone careful."
He walked to his desk and picked up a single sheet of paper. "This is a standard employment contract. With one addition." He slid it across to her.
She scanned the document. The salary was more than generous. The benefits extensive. But at the bottom, a handwritten clause stood out: Employee agrees to complete loyalty to Blackwood Global and its CEO. Any breach of confidentiality will result in immediate termination and legal action.
"It's rather vague," she said.
"Intentionally." He handed her a pen. "This isn't a job, Natalie. It's an alliance. And alliances require trust."
She took the pen. It felt heavy in her hand. Signing this meant burning every bridge back to her old life. It meant accepting that she was now a soldier in Lucas Black's war.
She thought of Adrian's face when he found out. The shock. The betrayal. The rage.
She signed.
Lucas took the contract, his fingers brushing against hers. A current passed between them, sharp, unexpected. He looked as surprised as she felt.
"Welcome to Blackwood," he said, his voice low. "You start Monday. Eight AM. Don't be late."
He turned back to the window, dismissing her. As she stood to leave, he spoke again without looking at her.
"Oh, and Natalie?" His voice carried across the room. "Don't mistake this for a rescue mission. You're not a damsel in distress. You're a calculated weapon. And I intend to use you as such."
The elevator doors closed, leaving her alone with the echo of his words. She had gotten the job. She had her weapon. But as the elevator descended, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just agreed to become exactly what Adrian always accused her of being: someone's pawn.
The thought should have terrified her. But as she stepped out into the bright morning light, she felt something else entirely: the first stirrings of power.