RULE NUMBER ONE: DON'T ANNOY THE BOSS
Emilia's desk sat directly outside Alexander Blackwood's office—close enough to hear his footsteps, but far enough that she couldn't pretend she wasn't terrified of him.
The receptionist, who had insisted Emilia call her Maya, gave her a quick survival guide before leaving her at her station.
"Rule number one," Maya whispered dramatically, "don't annoy the boss."
Emilia exhaled. "That sounds… reasonable."
"No, honey. I don't mean normal annoyance."
Maya leaned closer like she was revealing state secrets.
"I mean don't breathe too loudly. Don't knock on his door unless the building is literally on fire. And for the love of God—don't bring him coffee he didn't ask for."
"Got it," Emilia said softly.
Maya gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "You seem sweet. Try not to cry by lunchtime."
Then she walked away, leaving Emilia alone with her computer, a stack of files, and the awareness that the world's iciest man was ten feet behind her.
She took a deep breath and opened the first file.
You can do this, she told herself.
This job pays well. You need this. For Mom.
She began organizing schedules, replying to emails, and scanning documents. It wasn't difficult—just intimidating, knowing who she was working for.
Thirty quiet minutes passed.
Then the office door opened.
She jumped slightly as Alexander stepped out, talking to someone over the phone.
"No. I said no," he said calmly, his voice low and controlled.
"I don't want excuses. Restructure the entire proposal."
Even angry, he sounded… composed. Dangerous, but composed.
He ended the call and turned toward Emilia.
His gaze landed on her, and she straightened in her seat so quickly her spine cracked.
He walked toward her desk slowly, like a man used to people trembling.
"Miss Grace."
"Yes, sir?" She tried to sound professional, not nervous—but her voice betrayed her.
"I have a meeting in ten minutes. Bring me the quarterly reports."
"O-Of course."
She stood up so fast her chair rolled back and hit the wall.
He blinked once, expression unreadable.
"Sorry," she whispered.
He said nothing.
Emilia hurried to the cabinet where the files were kept, scanning the labels. Quarterly reports, quarterly reports, quarterly—
Her fingers closed around the folder. She turned quickly—
And collided with a solid chest.
Again.
Her heart dropped.
Alexander Blackwood stood behind her, close enough that she could smell his cologne—clean, cold, expensive.
She froze.
He didn't move either.
For two seconds, they stood there, way too close, staring at each other.
Then he stepped back, face unchanged, voice cool.
"You need to pay attention to your surroundings, Miss Grace."
"I—I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."
"That much is obvious."
Her cheeks burned, but she handed him the documents with both hands, trying not to appear as shaken as she felt.
He took the file and turned away, heading toward the elevator at the end of the corridor.
Emilia exhaled a long breath of pure relief.
But then something unexpected happened.
As the elevator doors began to close behind him, he glanced back at her—just for a moment.
No glare.
No coldness.
Just… a look.
Brief. Sharp. Curious.
And then he disappeared behind the closing doors.
Emilia stared at the empty space, confused.
"What… was that?" she whispered to herself.
Because for the first time since she met him, Alexander Blackwood hadn't looked at her like a mistake.
He looked at her like a question.