Lena had signed worse things in her life.
Unpaid internships. Sketchy freelance agreements. A lease she could barely afford but signed anyway because she had no choice.
So when the man in the black suit pushed the paper toward her, she didn't hesitate as long as she probably should have.
"Just sign at the bottom," he said calmly, tapping the page once.
Lena glanced down at the document.
Employment Agreement.
That sounded normal enough.
Still, something about the situation felt… off.
The office was too quiet. Too polished. The kind of place where everything looked expensive but no one seemed relaxed.
She shifted slightly in her seat. "What exactly is the job again?"
The man gave a small, polite smile. "You'll be working directly under Mr. Volkov. Details will be explained once you begin."
That wasn't an answer.
But Lena didn't push.
She needed this.
Rent was overdue. Her phone bill was hanging by a thread. And her landlord had already started knocking a little too often.
Normal questions could wait.
Survival couldn't.
"…Right," she muttered.
Her fingers tightened around the pen.
"Everything here is standard?" she asked, skimming the page without really reading it.
"Of course," the man replied smoothly.
That should have been her second warning.
But desperation had a way of making red flags look… manageable.
Lena exhaled softly, then signed her name at the bottom.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A strange feeling ran through her hand.
Sharp. Brief. Almost like a spark.
She frowned, pulling her hand back slightly. "Did you feel that?"
The man simply reached forward and collected the paper.
"No," he said.
Something in his tone made her pause.
Too calm.
Too certain.
"…Okay," Lena muttered, shaking her hand once as if to get rid of the sensation.
Probably just nerves.
"Congratulations," he continued, sliding the document into a folder. "Mr. Volkov will see you tonight."
"Tonight?" she repeated, blinking. "That's… fast."
"He prefers efficiency."
Of course he did.
Billionaires probably didn't have time to waste.
Lena stood up, adjusting her jacket. "Where do I go?"
"You'll receive the address shortly."
That was it.
No explanation. No details. No normal on boarding process.
Just show up.
She walked out of the building with a strange feeling sitting heavy in her chest.
It didn't make sense.
Nothing about today did.
But she had a job now.
That was what mattered.
By the time night fell, Lena found herself standing in front of a building that didn't look like any workplace she'd ever seen.
Glass. Steel. Lights stretching into the sky.
It didn't feel like an office.
It felt like something else entirely.
She hesitated at the entrance for a second.
Then shook her head.
"Stop overthinking," she whispered to herself.
And stepped inside.
The lobby was even worse.
Too quiet.
Too clean.
Too… controlled.
"Name?" the receptionist asked without looking up.
"Lena."
A pause.
Then the woman finally lifted her gaze—and something in her expression shifted.
Recognition.
"Of course," she said quickly. "He's expecting you."
That again.
He.
No name needed.
Lena swallowed slightly. "Right…"
She was directed to a private elevator.
No buttons.
No instructions.
Just a smooth, silent ride upward.
Her reflection in the mirrored walls didn't help.
She looked normal.
Too normal.
Like she didn't belong here at all.
The doors opened with a soft sound.
And everything changed.
The room was dimly lit, the city glowing through the massive windows behind him.
He stood there, facing away from her.
Tall. Still. Completely unmoving.
"Sir," someone said quietly from behind Lena. "She's here."
A pause.
Then he turned.
And Lena's breath caught.
It wasn't just that he was attractive.
He was.
Sharp features. Dark hair. The kind of presence that filled the room without trying.
But it was his eyes.
There was something wrong with them.
Not obvious.
Not at first glance.
But the longer she looked, the more it felt like he wasn't just seeing her—
He was reading her.
"Come closer," he said.
His voice was low. Controlled. Impossible to ignore.
And before she could stop herself—
She did.
Great.
Already making excellent life choices.
"You signed the contract," he continued.
"Yeah," she said quickly. "About that—what exactly am I supposed to be doing?"
Silence.
Then—
"You belong to me now."
Lena blinked.
"…I'm sorry, what?"