Chapter 1: Meeting the Devil
The rain had no mercy that morning.
It washed the streets, blurred the traffic lights, and soaked through Amara Collins' thin jacket as she stood in front of Raven Group Headquarters—a towering glass building that reached into the clouds.
To her, it wasn't just a company.
It was her last hope.
Amara took a shaky breath, clutching her worn folder against her chest. Inside were her certificates, letters of recommendation, and every dream she had left. If she failed this interview, she didn't know what would come next.
Inside the lobby, the world felt too perfect for her. The floors gleamed like mirrors, and everyone looked too busy, too polished. The receptionist barely looked up.
> "Name?"
> "Amara Collins," she said softly.
The receptionist typed a few keys, then looked up with a faint smile.
> "You're here for the personal assistant position with Mr. Damien Raven. Top floor. Good luck."
The name made her pause.
Damien Raven.
The CEO everyone in the city called The Devil in a Suit.
Stories about him were endless—cold, ruthless, untouchable. Some said he ruined lives with a single word. Others said he never smiled.
Still, she couldn't afford to turn back now.
The elevator doors closed behind her, and her reflection stared back — nervous eyes, trembling lips, soaked hair. She whispered to herself,
> "You can do this, Amara. Just... breathe."
When the doors opened, silence greeted her.
His office was massive—floor-to-ceiling windows, black marble floors, and one man sitting behind a sleek desk.
Damien Raven looked up from a file. His eyes were cold, sharp, and unreadable.
> "You're late."
Her heart jumped.
> "I—I'm sorry, sir. The rain—"
> "Excuses," he cut in smoothly, his voice deep and steady. "I don't like them. Sit."
She obeyed.
He flipped a page, still not looking at her.
> "You graduated top of your class. Impressive. Yet, you've been unemployed for almost a year. Why?"
She swallowed hard.
> "Because... I don't have the right connections, sir."
He looked up then, his gaze locking with hers.
Something in his eyes — power, control, danger — made her skin prickle.
> "Good," he said quietly. "That means you'll know how to value opportunities."
He slid a document across the desk.
> "This isn't a normal assistant job. It's a contract. If you accept, you'll follow my rules — completely."
Amara blinked.
> "Rules?"
> "Yes. I don't mix business with emotion. I don't tolerate lies. And I expect loyalty, no matter what happens. If you can't handle that, walk out now."
Her chest tightened.
The offer felt strange, even wrong—but her mother's hospital bills flashed in her mind. Her little brother's face. Their small apartment.
> "When do I start?" she asked softly.
For the first time, his lips twitched — not a smile, but close.
> "Sign the contract, Miss Collins. Then we'll see if you can survive working for the devil."
And with trembling fingers…
she picked up the pen.