The rain streaked down the glass walls of Markson Group, turning the city outside into blurry streaks of silver. Emilia Jones stood just outside the revolving doors, clutching her portfolio like it was a lifeline. Her reflection stared back at her tired eyes, carefully composed features, lips pressed thin. Losing her last job had shaken her confidence more than she wanted to admit. This interview wasn't just another opportunity; it was her chance to prove she still belonged.
She drew a deep breath and stepped inside. The lobby was massive, imposing, impossibly pristine. Employees passed her with calm precision, each step measured, each glance deliberate. Emilia adjusted her blazer, forcing herself to look composed. "Good morning," she said politely to the receptionist. I have an interview scheduled. Emilia Jones. The receptionist typed without looking up.
CEO will conduct it. Top floor, the receptionist added. Emilia blinked. CEO. Of all people… Her chest tightened. The elevator ride was slow enough to feel endless. Each passing floor reminded her of university—countless arguments with Ethan Cole, sharp words exchanged in lectures, stubborn pride neither of them would admit to.
Stepping into the silent hallway, her heels echoed softly. A woman gestured toward a large door. "He's waiting for you." Emilia's chest tightened. Her hand hovered over the door handle. "Come in," a deep voice called. Unmistakably familiar. She pushed the door open and froze. There he was. Ethan Cole.
Time seemed to stop. He looked nothing like the reckless, cocky student she remembered. Now, he exuded authority, dressed impeccably, composed in every way. But the eyes—the eyes were the same: sharp, piercing, impossible to ignore. "Well," he said, leaning back slightly with a smirk, "this is unexpected."
Emilia closed the door behind her, forcing herself to breathe. "Ethan," she said, voice steady though her heart raced. He studied her silently, memories of rivalry flashing between them. "I didn't think I'd see you here," he said. "Neither did I," she replied, holding her ground. The tension in the room was almost electric, almost unbearable.
You're the CEO? she asked, even though she already knew. He raised a brow, amusement flickering briefly. "Surprised?" she whispered. "Yes," she admitted. He gestured to the chair. "Sit." Emilia obeyed, trying to steady her pulse as he picked up her file.
His gaze lingered on her, reading more than her resume—her determination, her doubts, her tiniest vulnerability. He flipped through her papers silently, meticulous and precise. Out of all the companies she could have applied to, it had to be his. Her chest tightened. After a long pause, he closed the file.
You've done well for yourself, he said. "I worked for it," she replied evenly. He studied her, eyes sharp. "Here's the problem," he continued, leaning forward slightly. "I don't like you." Emilia's pulse spiked, but she held her ground. "That makes two of us," she shot back.
back.
A flicker of amusement crossed his face before vanishing. "But," he said carefully, "you're the most qualified candidate I've seen." Emilia's chest tightened again. "So?" she asked, voice steady. "So," he said, eyes locked on hers, "I'm offering you the job." Her breath caught.
You're serious? she asked. "Completely," he replied, tone calm and absolute. "Why? You just said you don't like me." His gaze didn't waver. "Because I don't let personal history interfere with business." Memories of university fights surged through her mind.
She swallowed hard. "I accept." His smile was slow, knowing, and it made her heart skip. He stood, circling the desk. Emilia rose as well, and the proximity made her pulse race. The faint scent of his cologne invaded her senses.
Welcome to Markson Group, Miss Jones," he said softly. She stepped back, regaining composure. "Thank you, Mr. Cole," she replied professionally. As she turned to leave, he called softly, "Emilia." She froze, hand on the door handle.
Try not to argue with me this time," he said, low and firm. A reluctant smile brushed her lips. "No promises," she whispered. Hours later, Emilia settled into her new office, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She had a job, yes, but something about the day felt off.
The ease with which Ethan had hired her, the lingering intensity in his gaze—it was thrilling, confusing, and dangerous all at once. Her instincts screamed this was far from ordinary. Long after the office emptied, Ethan remained by the glass wall, staring at the city lights. His phone buzzed.
A message appeared: She's in your company now. His fingers moved instantly. I know. Another followed: Good. Don't forget why you brought her here. He didn't reply, only stared at his reflection, unreadable. Quietly, he murmured to himself, voice low and certain:
I haven't forgotten. This time… she won't walk away without facing it.