The elevator doors slid shut with a soft ding, sealing me in a metal box with my misery.
I didn't care that I was in a corporate building. I didn't care that it was nine in the morning. I didn't care that my mascara was probably running down my cheeks like tiny rivers of humiliation.
I just needed to cry.
"Fucking bastard," I muttered, pressing my palms against my eyes. "Three years. Three goddamn years."
The image was still fresh—seared into my brain like a brand. Marco, my boyfriend of three years, tangled in bedsheets with my cousin. My cousin. In our apartment. In our bed.
"All men are the same," I said louder, my voice cracking. "Every single one of you. Liars. Cheaters. You're all the fucking same."
I didn't realize someone else had entered the elevator until a deep, distinctly male voice cut through my breakdown.
"Rough morning?"
I jumped, my eyes flying open. Standing in the corner, half-hidden in shadow, was possibly the most attractive man I'd ever seen in real life. Tall, probably over six feet, with perfectly styled dark hair and a face that belonged on magazine covers. He wore a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my rent, and his expression was a mixture of amusement and mild irritation.
Great. Just perfect.
"How long have you been standing there?" I demanded, not bothering to wipe my tears.
"Long enough to learn that all men are apparently trash." One dark eyebrow arched. "Eloquent."
"I'm having a private moment."
"In a public elevator."
"It was empty when I got in!"
"Clearly not anymore." He checked his watch—a Rolex, because of course it was. "And now we're stuck together for another fifteen floors."
I turned away from him, crossing my arms. "Fine. Pretend I'm not here, and I'll pretend you're not here."
"Difficult, considering you're sobbing loud enough to wake the dead."
"I'm not sobbing," I snapped, even though I totally was. "And if my crying bothers you so much, maybe you should learn some empathy. Oh wait, you're a man. You probably don't have any."
I heard him exhale—not quite a sigh, but close.
"Let me guess," he said, his tone dripping with boredom. "Boyfriend cheated?"
I spun around. "How did you—"
"It's always the boyfriend. Or husband. You're not wearing a ring, so boyfriend." He leaned against the elevator wall, somehow managing to look both relaxed and imposing. "Let me guess the rest. You caught him red-handed. Probably with someone you know. Friend? Coworker?"
"Cousin," I bit out.
"Ah. Extra messy. My condolences."
The way he said it—so casual, so detached—made my blood boil.
"You don't sound sorry at all."
"I'm not, really. I don't know you." He checked his watch again. "But I am sorry you're having a breakdown in an elevator I happen to be in. Terrible timing on both our parts."
"Wow. You're actually an asshole."
"So I've been told." He didn't even have the decency to look offended. "Multiple times. Usually by crying women in inappropriate places."
"This is an elevator, not a bedroom. It's perfectly appropriate."
"For crying? Debatable."
The elevator dinged—floor twenty-five. My floor. Finally.
I grabbed my bag and practically lunged for the doors, desperate to escape this infuriating, gorgeous stranger.
"Hey," he called out just as I stepped through. I glanced back. "Next time you want to curse out an entire gender, maybe check if you're actually alone first."
"Next time you want to be a decent human being," I shot back, "maybe try developing a personality beyond 'condescending jackass.'"
The doors slid shut on his face, and I could have sworn I saw him smirk.
Good riddance.
I tried to shake off the encounter as I made my way through the modern glass doors of Villafuerte Enterprises. The reception area was all sleek marble and minimalist design—the kind of place that screamed money and power.
I was here for a job interview. Secretary position. It wasn't my dream job, but after I'd stormed out of the apartment I'd shared with Marco this morning—homeless, heartbroken, and unemployed—I needed something. Anything.
My best friend Liv had sent me the listing last night: Immediate opening. Secretary to the CEO. Competitive salary. Apply ASAP.
Beggars couldn't be choosers.
"Amara Cruz?" A woman in her fifties with kind eyes and a professional smile approached me. "I'm Helen, the HR director. Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"Thank you for seeing me," I said, trying to sound more put-together than I felt.
She led me down a hallway lined with awards and framed magazine covers. I caught glimpses of the same face repeated in several of them—sharp features, intense eyes, that same dark hair.
"That's Mr. Villafuerte," Helen said, noticing my gaze. "Our CEO. He's... particular about his requirements."
"Particular how?"
"He's brilliant. Visionary. Built this company from the ground up before he was thirty." She paused. "But he's also demanding. Difficult. Some would say impossible."
"Sounds delightful."
Helen smiled sympathetically. "The last three secretaries quit within two months. That's why we're hiring so quickly. Mr. Villafuerte needs someone who can handle his schedule, his moods, and his... lifestyle."
"Lifestyle?"
"He keeps unusual hours. Lots of social events, business dinners, occasional travel. And he's very private about his personal life." She stopped outside a massive door—solid wood, probably mahogany. "But if you can handle it, the pay is excellent, and it looks incredible on a resume."
I needed excellent pay. I needed any pay.
"I can handle it."
"Good." Helen knocked twice. "Mr. Villafuerte? Your nine-thirty interview is here."
"Send her in," came the response from inside.
The voice was familiar. Deep. Smooth. Laced with that same bored tone I'd heard twenty minutes ago.
No.
No, no, no.
Helen opened the door, and there, sitting behind an enormous desk with floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, was the asshole from the elevator.
He looked up from his laptop, and for one brief, beautiful moment, I saw genuine surprise flicker across his face.
Then it was gone, replaced by that same infuriating smirk.
"Well," Radeus Xavien Villafuerte said, leaning back in his chair. "This should be interesting."