Amara's tongue felt heavy in her mouth, her throat dry as sand. She had no idea what to say. Adrian Kane stood in the doorway, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure against the glow of the city skyline behind him. The steel-blue of his eyes pierced her, demanding an answer.
"I—nothing," she managed, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it. "I wasn't listening."
He took a slow step closer, and for the first time, she noticed just how much taller he was. His presence seemed to fill the hallway, his shadow stretching long across the carpet.
"Don't lie to me, Miss Reyes," he said softly. That softness made it worse, a blade hidden inside velvet. "You were standing outside my office. You heard something."
Amara's pulse raced. She should apologize. She should bow her head and promise to forget everything. That was the smart move. The safe move. But something inside her rebelled. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was that same stubborn streak that had kept her afloat through years of struggle.
"I heard enough to know you're hiding something," she said before she could stop herself.
The air between them went still, heavy with unspoken danger. Adrian studied her for a long, tense moment. His jaw tightened, then relaxed. Finally, he gave a short, cold laugh. "You've got guts. I'll give you that."
He brushed past her, close enough that she caught a whiff of his cologne—something dark and expensive, cedarwood and smoke. "Go home, Miss Reyes," he said without looking back. "Be here tomorrow at seven-thirty. And remember—what you think you heard stays between us. If you value your job."
Amara's fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes had left no room for negotiation. She gathered her things quickly and fled the building, the words If you value your job echoing in her head the whole subway ride home.
Her apartment felt smaller than usual that night. Sofia was curled up on the couch, scrolling on her phone when Amara walked in.
"Hey, survivor," her sister teased. "How was the first day in billionaire land?"
Amara collapsed beside her with a sigh. "It was… insane."
Sofia grinned. "Insane good or insane bad?"
"Both." Amara kicked off her heels, wincing at the sore spots on her feet. "He's demanding. Rude. Arrogant. And terrifyingly smart. I've never worked so hard in my life."
Sofia tilted her head. "And yet you're smiling."
Amara blinked. Was she? She pressed her lips together quickly. "I'm smiling because I survived. Barely."
"Mm-hm." Sofia smirked, clearly unconvinced. "So what's he like? Hot?"
Amara shot her a look. "That's not the point."
"So he's hot."
Amara groaned and buried her face in a cushion. "He's impossible. And dangerous. I overheard something today—" She stopped herself abruptly.
Sofia's brows rose. "Overheard what?"
"Nothing. Forget it." Amara forced a casual shrug. "Company stuff. Not my business."
But as she lay awake that night, staring at the cracks in their ceiling, Adrian's voice replayed in her head. If he's the leak, I'll handle it personally. What did that even mean? And why did it make her stomach twist with both fear and curiosity?
The next morning, she was at her desk by seven twenty-five, coffee already in hand. She wasn't about to give him another excuse to call her late. At exactly seven-thirty, the doors opened and Adrian strode out, perfectly put together in a navy suit that fit him like it had been stitched directly onto his frame. His eyes swept over her, pausing briefly on the steaming cup.
"Learning," he said simply, taking it without breaking stride.
Amara bit back the urge to roll her eyes. Small victories.
The morning passed in a blur of tasks—calendar reshuffling, travel bookings, drafting emails for Adrian's review. Each time she thought she'd caught up, another demand dropped onto her desk like a grenade. By noon, Claudia appeared with a garment bag.
"You'll need to accompany Mr. Kane to the gala tonight," she said briskly.
Amara froze. "Gala?"
"Annual Chamber of Commerce fundraiser. Black tie. Guests are expected. Assistants handle the details." Claudia's gaze flicked over Amara's modest blouse and skirt. "You'll need something more appropriate."
Heat rushed to Amara's cheeks. "I can't afford—"
Claudia handed her the garment bag before she could finish. "This is company property. Wear it. Return it. Don't spill wine on it."
Before Amara could protest further, Claudia was gone.
That evening, Amara found herself in front of her tiny bedroom mirror, slipping into the dress. It was a sleek black gown, cut elegantly with just enough shimmer to catch the light. The fabric hugged her curves in a way that made her blush. She hardly recognized herself.
Sofia gasped from the doorway. "Ama. You look like—like you belong there."
"Do I?" Amara whispered, smoothing the gown over her hips.
"Absolutely. And if that billionaire boss of yours doesn't notice, he's blind."
Amara rolled her eyes, but her stomach fluttered anyway.
The gala was held in a grand ballroom glittering with chandeliers and filled with New York's elite. Adrian was already there when Amara arrived, tall and commanding in a tailored tuxedo. His eyes found her instantly, and for a fraction of a second, something unreadable flickered in them.
"Miss Reyes," he said smoothly, offering his arm. "You clean up well."
Her pulse jumped at the warmth of his hand against hers as he guided her through the crowd. Everywhere she looked, people whispered. Powerful men and women turned their heads, eyes lingering on Adrian Kane—and on her. She caught fragments of murmurs.
"New assistant?"
"Pretty little thing."
"Won't last long. None of them do."
The words stung, but Amara lifted her chin. She wasn't going to let them see her rattled.
At one point, a man in a rival company's colors approached, his smile dripping with malice. "Kane. Always a pleasure. And who's this? Your latest… project?" His eyes raked over Amara, dismissive and cruel.
Adrian's hand tightened on hers. His voice was calm but lethal. "This is my assistant, Amara Reyes. And she's more capable than half the men in this room combined. Watch your tone."
The man's smirk faltered before he backed off. Amara's breath caught. He'd defended her. Not because he had to, but because he chose to.
"Thank you," she murmured as they stepped away.
Adrian's eyes flicked to hers, something intense burning there. "Don't thank me. Just remember—this world will eat you alive if you let it. Stand tall, Miss Reyes."
Her heart pounded. For a moment, the noise of the gala faded, leaving only him, his voice, his gaze. The spell broke when a flash of light blinded her. She turned just in time to see a photographer lowering his camera. Another flash followed, then another.
Adrian cursed under his breath, shielding her slightly with his body as more cameras turned their way. "Stay close."
Amara's stomach twisted as realization sank in. To the outside world, those photos would look like more than boss and assistant. Much more.