The receptionist, Paige, shot her a sympathetic look as she passed, but it did nothing to calm her fury. That man—that arrogant, self-absorbed, insufferable man—had pushed her beyond her limit.
God, she'd never met anyone who could infuriate her so completely in such a short span of time.
Sure, he was gorgeous—fine, he was the most unfairly beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, his achievements were worthy of respect. But respect had limits, and arrogance was not sexy. Not even when it came wrapped in six feet of sculpted perfection and a voice that could melt steel.
By the time she reached her car, her hands were still shaking.
She had placed so many hopes on that interview. That was supposed to be her breakthrough.
The design world in Manhattan was brutal, and Dare to Dazzle was the pinnacle—her dream job, the one she'd been working toward since she was sixteen. The pay, the recognition, the exposure—it would've changed everything. And one pompous billionaire had taken it all away.
She sighed as she pulled into the parking garage beneath her Brooklyn apartment complex.
She'd never been the kind of woman who cried over anything. But as soon as she stepped into the apartment, her roommate Riley took one look at her and gasped.
"Oh no. What happened?"
She exhaled. "I had an interview with Asher Mitchell."
Riley's eyes widened. "The Asher Mitchell? The billionaire? The one Forbes called 'The Cold King of Manhattan'?"
"The very one."
Don't tell me he was ugly contrary to the pictures—no, worse, tell me he was married."
"Neither," Sam muttered, dropping her keys onto the counter.
Riley tilted her head. "You didn't… punch him, did you?"
Sam's eyes narrowed. "It was an interview, not a boxing match."
"So, you yelled at him?"
Sam groaned. "Worse. I told him off. Then I quit before I was even hired."
"Oh my God, Sam. You didn't tell him off. You committed career suicide."
Sam glared at her.
Riley bit her tongue. "That's… iconic?"
"It's stupid."
Her voice cracked, and before she could stop herself, tears pricked her eyes. Riley's teasing faded. She walked over and wrapped Sam in a tight hug.
"Hey," she said softly, rubbing her back. "You're allowed to cry. You've been holding your breath for months waiting on this job."
Sam sniffed, her pride stinging. "I worked my ass off for this, Riley. I thought this would be it. I thought I'd finally get my shot."
"You still will. Just… maybe not with Mr jerk-face who made you cry."
Sam managed a watery laugh. "He's not a jerk-face. He's worse."
Her gaze drifted toward the vision board above her desk. It was cluttered with design sketches, sticky notes, and one huge picture in the center—The Sterling Towers, a sleek high-rise overlooking Central Park.
That was her dream: to one day own an apartment there. It wasn't just about status—it was about security. Stability. A home her parents could visit from their small Midwest town and finally relax in.
She'd even been in touch with a real estate agent, saving every spare cent for a down payment.
She rubbed her temples. "I can't afford to lose more time. I need a job that pays what I'm worth. Not 'exposure' but 'actual money."
"Then we're manifesting it," Riley said, grabbing a scented candle and lighting it dramatically. "Universe, hear our girl out. Send her a job and a hot guy who isn't a narcissistic billionaire."
Sam gave her a look. "Please don't make the universe multitask."
Riley grinned, but the humor couldn't hide the ache in Sam's chest.
As she showered later, letting the hot water scald away her frustration, she whispered to herself, "Why did you let him get to you?"
But deep down, she already knew why. Because Asher Mitchell had looked at her like she was both a challenge and a mystery—and she'd hated how much her pulse had reacted to it.
"Damn you, Asher Mitchell," she muttered, shutting off the tap.
Across the city, high above Manhattan's skyline, Asher was pacing his office like a caged lion.
His office was all glass and marble, the kind of place that reflected power—but at the moment, it reflected nothing but frustration.
He couldn't stop replaying that interview in his mind.
She'd defied him. Twice. Then walked out.
Most people would've begged for the opportunity. Samantha Carter had looked him in the eye, called him arrogant, and walked away with her head high.
No one did that to him. No one ever had.
And yet… he couldn't shake the image of her. The fire in her voice. The way her hands had moved across the paper—confident, precise, alive. She had created brilliance out of sheer defiance.
She infuriated him.
She intrigued him.
And worse, she impressed him.
What the hell was that feeling in his chest? Respect? Admiration? Something dangerously close to curiosity?
He exhaled sharply and hit the intercom. "Ava."
His assistant's voice crackled through the line. "Yes, Mr. Mitchell?"
"Get in here."
A moment later, AvaHarper entered, her heels clicking across the marble floor. Petite, poised, and efficient to a fault, Ava had been with him since college—his closest friend, though she'd never admit it out loud.
She took one look at him and raised a brow. "You've been pacing for twenty minutes. Should I be concerned, or should I order tranquilizers?"
He shot her a glare that only made her smirk.
"Relax, boss. What's the damage?"
"I need everything you can find on Samantha Carter."
Ava blinked. "The woman who just walked out on you?"
"The same."
Her lips curved. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Ava sighed, muttering something under her breath as she retrieved the file. "You already have her résumé. What else do you need?"
"Not qualifications. I want everything. Where she lives, what she likes, what she dreams of. Her goals. Her priorities. I want to know what drives her."
Ava crossed her arms. "You're either hiring her or hunting her. Which one is it?"
He didn't answer.
"Right," she said dryly. "So both."
Ava turned toward the door. "I'll get Jason. He's better at digging into the personal stuff."
"Jason?"
"My fiancé, your other best friend…ring a bell?" she said with a proud smile. "You know—the six-foot-four hacker who terrifies HR."
Right on cue, Jason Reyes walked in—tall, broad-shouldered, and annoyingly charming. "You rang, he said pulling her into a kiss?"
Asher rolled his eyes. "Behave."
Jason winked at him before asking, "What's up, boss man?"
Ava smiled remembering the good old days. The three of them had been best friends since college and even though Asher was an expressionless, hard headed idiot Ava and Jason had gotten used to his lack of emotions. What he lacked in emotions he made up in other ways.
"I need intel. On someone named Samantha Carter." Asher said bringing Ava out of her thoughts.
Jason whistled low. "You're not usually the 'background check' type unless someone stole a company secret."
"She walked out of an interview."
Jason blinked. "You want me to investigate someone because she quit?"
"She didn't quit," Asher said tightly. "She challenged me."
Ava stifled a laugh. "Oh, this is rich."
Asher shot her a glare. "You're still on payroll, right?"
"For now," she teased.
Jason leaned against the desk. "So, what exactly are we looking for? Hobbies? Bank accounts? Dream vacations?"
"Dreams," Asher said simply. "Find out what she wants most."
Jason and Ava exchanged glances.
"Wow," Jason said. "You're either planning to hire her or ruin her life."
"Neither," Asher replied. "I just need a designer, and she fits the bill."
Ava smirked. "So why did she walk away? Leaving you all broody and harmonal?"
Asher ignored her and sat back, his mind already calculating. Samantha Carter had walked away from him like she meant it—but everyone had a weak spot.
Everyone.
He just needed to find hers.
*******************
"She's stubborn," Ava's voice said from behind him, handing him a folder. "Independent. Lives in Brooklyn with a roommate. Graduated top of her class. Works for the second best design company in all of Manhattan second only to Dare to Dazzle. And…" she hesitated, "she's got a dream board full of jewelry sketches and an apartment building, Sterling Towers which is an interesting find since you...,"
Asher's gaze sharpened, cutting her off.
"Anything else?"
"She's never been fired. Never quit a job before today." Ava said hiding her smile.
He turned back to the window, the city lights gleaming like scattered diamonds below.
"Everyone has a price," he murmured. "You just have to know where to look."