NATALIE'S POV
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I know what you're doing to Adrian. Stop now, or I'll tell him everything you've been hiding. You have 24 hours to decide.
I stare at the message, my hands shaking so badly I almost drop my phone.
Someone knows. Someone else knows what I'm doing.
But who? And how?
My mind races through possibilities. Marcus wouldn't threaten me—he needs me. Elias already confronted me but gave me a chance. So who else could possibly know?
I'm about to call the number when my phone rings. It's Simone.
"Thank God," I breathe, answering immediately. "Simone, something's happening—"
"Forget whatever drama you're dealing with right now," she interrupts. "I just overheard something at the bar. There's a woman asking questions about you. Expensive clothes, cold eyes, asking if anyone knows Natalie Cross who works at Steele Industries."
My heart stops. "What kind of questions?"
"About your past. Your family. Your father." Simone's voice drops. "Natalie, who is this woman? And why is she looking for dirt on you?"
"I don't know," I whisper. But I have a terrible feeling I'm about to find out.
That's when my memory crashes back to three months ago. To the night everything changed. The night a simple mistake led to a conversation that transformed my entire world.
THREE MONTHS AGO
I sat in Adrian's empty office at nine PM, waiting for him to return from his dinner meeting.
My stomach churned with anxiety. I'd made a mistake. A big one.
I'd scheduled two important meetings for Adrian at the exact same time tomorrow. One with investors from Tokyo. One with the mayor's office. Both critical. Both unmovable.
And it was completely my fault.
I'd been distracted lately. Marcus had been calling more frequently, demanding better information, pushing me to access files I couldn't reach. The pressure was getting to me, and I'd slipped up.
Now I was going to pay for it.
The office door opened. Adrian walked in, loosening his tie. He stopped when he saw me sitting in the chair across from his desk.
"Ms. Cross. I wasn't expecting you."
I stood up quickly. "I know. I'm sorry. I just—I needed to talk to you about tomorrow's schedule."
"It's nine o'clock at night."
"I know. But this couldn't wait." I took a deep breath. "I made a mistake. A serious one. I double-booked your morning. The Tokyo investors and the mayor's meeting are at the same time."
Adrian's expression didn't change. He walked to his desk and sat down, studying me with those penetrating gray eyes.
"I see. And you waited here for three hours to tell me this in person instead of sending an email?"
"I wanted to apologize face-to-face. And to tell you I understand if you need to fire me."
"Fire you?" One eyebrow raised slightly. "Why would I fire my best assistant over one scheduling conflict?"
I blinked in surprise. "Best assistant?"
"You think I don't notice? You're here before I arrive every morning. You anticipate what I need before I ask for it. You've streamlined systems that my previous three assistants couldn't figure out." He leaned back in his chair. "One mistake in three months doesn't erase three months of excellence."
Relief flooded through me, but it was mixed with guilt. He thought I was excellent. He trusted me. And I was betraying him every single day.
"Thank you," I managed to say. "I'll fix it. I'll call both offices first thing tomorrow and—"
"It's already fixed. I rescheduled the mayor myself when I noticed the conflict this afternoon."
My mouth fell open. "You knew? This whole time?"
"Of course I knew. I check my own calendar, Ms. Cross." A small smile played at his lips. "I wanted to see if you'd notice. And more importantly, I wanted to see what you'd do about it."
"So this was a test?"
"Everything is a test." He stood and walked around the desk, stopping directly in front of me. "The question is—why are you really here? You could have sent an email. You could have told me tomorrow morning. But instead, you waited alone in my office for hours. Why?"
Because I'm terrified of disappointing you. Because for some reason I don't understand, your approval matters more than it should. Because working for you is the only thing in my life that feels real right now, even though it's built on lies.
"Because I respect you," I said instead. "And I don't take this job lightly."
Adrian studied my face for a long moment. Then he asked the question that would change everything between us.
"Do you know what I do with people who disappoint me, Ms. Cross?"
My breath caught. There was something different in his voice. Something darker. More intimate.
"No, sir."
"I give them a choice." He moved closer, and I could smell his cologne—something expensive and masculine. "They can accept my standards and rise to meet them. Or they can leave and find somewhere with lower expectations."
"I want to rise to your standards."
"Do you?" His eyes searched mine. "Even if those standards are... demanding?"
"Yes."
"Even if they extend beyond typical office hours and typical office... arrangements?"
My heart pounded. What was he asking?
"I don't understand."
Adrian was quiet for a moment. Then he walked to a cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a folder. He placed it on the desk between us.
"I have certain expectations for the people in my inner circle. Expectations that go beyond professional performance." He opened the folder. "This is a contract I offer to select individuals. People I trust. People who understand the value of structure, discipline, and mutual benefit."
I looked down at the papers. My eyes caught phrases that made my pulse race.
Consensual power exchange. Negotiated boundaries. Safe words. Complete discretion.
My face burned hot. "This is—you're asking me to—"
"I'm not asking you anything tonight. I'm simply giving you information." His voice was calm, professional, like he was discussing a business deal. "Read the contract. Think about it. If you're interested, we'll discuss terms. If not, we never speak of this again, and your job remains exactly as it is."
I couldn't breathe properly. "Why me?"
"Because you're strong enough to handle it. Because you're honest—you came here tonight to confess a mistake you could have hidden. Because you need something I can provide, and I need something you can offer."
"What do you need from me?"
"Trust. True trust. The kind where someone surrenders control completely because they know it's safe to do so." His eyes held mine. "And I think you need that too. A place where you can stop fighting. Stop holding everything together. Stop drowning."
That last word hit me like a punch. Drowning. The same word I'd used in my interview.
He remembered.
"I don't know if I can," I whispered.
"That's why I'm giving you time to decide. No pressure. No expectations." He closed the folder and handed it to me. "Read it. Think about what you truly want—not what you think you should want. Then give me your answer."
I took the folder with trembling hands.
"You have one week," Adrian said. "After that, the offer expires."
I nodded, unable to form words.
As I walked to the door, his voice stopped me.
"Natalie?"
I turned back. He'd never used my first name before.
"Whatever you decide, it doesn't change the fact that you're an exceptional assistant. This contract would be separate. Additional. Not a requirement for your employment."
"Okay," I breathed.
I left his office and made it to the elevator before my knees went weak. I leaned against the wall, clutching the folder to my chest.
What had just happened?
Adrian Steele—my boss, the man I was supposed to destroy—had just offered me something I didn't fully understand but instinctively craved.
I took the folder home that night. Read it cover to cover. Read it again. And again.
And I realized two terrifying things.
First: this contract would give me access to his private spaces. His penthouse. His personal files. Everything Marcus wanted me to find.
Second: I wanted to sign it for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with my father's revenge plan.
My phone buzzes, yanking me back to the present.
Another text from the unknown number.
UNKNOWN: Time's ticking, Natalie. 23 hours left. Choose wisely—your secrets or your lies. Either way, someone's getting hurt.
Then a photo loads below the text.
It's me. Outside Adrian's building. From
tonight.
Someone's been watching me.
And they're about to make my whole world explode.