Ammie didn't realize how tightly she had been holding her breath until she stepped out of the building.
The glass doors closed behind her with a soft sound, but her heart was still racing.
That man.
Who was he?
She stopped just outside, adjusting her bag as she tried to steady herself. People walked past her without a second glance, cars moved, the city continued as usual…
But for her, something felt different.
That gaze.
The way he had looked at her like he could see straight through every answer she gave.
She shook her head slightly.
Focus, Ammie.
An interview was just an interview.
Nothing more.
Still…
"I need it."
Why had she said it like that?
She exhaled slowly and began walking away from the building, her thoughts tangled.
That night, sleep didn't come easily.
Ammie lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in her head.
Her mother's words.
The unpaid rent.
The deadline.
And then—
Him.
His voice. His presence. That single word.
Interesting.
She turned to her side, pulling the blanket closer.
"This is not the time to be distracted," she whispered to herself.
What she needed right now was stability.
A job.
Money.
Not… whatever that was.
The next morning, her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Ammie frowned slightly before answering. "Hello?"
"Good morning. Is this Miss Ammie?"
Her back straightened immediately. "Yes, speaking."
"This is from Crestline Group."
Her heart skipped.
"I'm calling to inform you that you've been selected."
For a moment—
She couldn't speak.
"I… I got it?" she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes. You are to resume tomorrow. Details will be sent to you shortly."
Ammie's grip on her phone tightened.
"Thank you so much," she said quickly. "Thank you."
The call ended.
And for a few seconds, she just stood there.
Then—
"Mama!" she called out, her voice filled with excitement. "Mama!"
Her mother rushed in, alarmed. "What happened?"
"I got the job!"
Silence.
Then her mother's face lit up, relief washing over her features as she pulled Ammie into a tight embrace.
"Thank God," she whispered.
And in that moment, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.
It wasn't.
The building felt even bigger when she returned the next day.
This time, she wasn't a visitor.
She was part of it.
Ammie stood at the front desk, her ID card hanging neatly around her neck. Her outfit was simple but carefully chosen—professional, modest, clean.
She had made sure of that.
"First day?" a voice beside her asked.
Ammie turned to see a young woman smiling at her.
"Yes," she replied.
"I'm Clara," the woman said warmly. "I'll be showing you around."
"Thank you."
Clara led her through the office floors, explaining departments, procedures, expectations.
Ammie listened carefully, taking everything in.
This world was fast.
Precise.
Demanding.
But she was ready.
Or at least… she thought she was.
"—and this," Clara continued, stopping in front of a sleek office door, "is the executive floor."
Ammie's steps slowed slightly.
Something about the atmosphere here felt… heavier.
Quieter.
More controlled.
Clara lowered her voice slightly. "You don't come here unless you're called."
Ammie nodded.
"Why?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Clara gave a small smile.
"Because the CEO doesn't like unnecessary movement."
Ammie's heart skipped.
The CEO.
Her mind immediately flashed back to the interview room.
To him.
Before she could say anything—
A voice spoke behind them.
"Miss Ammie."
Her entire body stilled.
Slowly… she turned.
And there he was.
Standing just a few steps away.
Just like before—perfectly composed, unreadable, powerful.
Up close… even more intimidating.
Clara immediately straightened. "Sir."
Ammie followed quickly. "Good morning, sir."
His eyes didn't leave hers.
"Come with me."
Not a request.
A command.
Ammie hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yes, sir."
Clara gave her a quick look—half surprise, half curiosity—as Ammie followed him.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears with every step.
They entered his office.
The door closed behind them.
Silence.
Ammie stood there, unsure whether to speak or wait.
He walked past her, setting a file on his desk before turning to face her.
"Sit."
She obeyed.
Her hands rested on her lap, fingers slightly tense.
He studied her for a moment.
Then—
"I don't usually involve myself in recruitment," he said calmly.
Ammie swallowed. "Okay…"
"But you," he continued, his tone measured, "are different."
Her heart started racing again.
"I—"
"You said you need the job," he cut in.
She nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
"How badly?"
The question hit differently.
Ammie hesitated.
But only for a second.
"Very badly."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
He reached for a document on his desk.
"I have something better than a job," he said.
Ammie's brows furrowed slightly.
Better?
He placed the document in front of her.
"A contract."
Her eyes dropped to it.
Then back to him.
"I don't understand…"
His gaze remained steady.
"You will," he said.
A pause.
Then, clearly—
"I want you to marry me."