I wasn't there to apply for a secretarial position, no sirree, Bob! I was down for annihilation, and Mr Sebastian Knight had no idea what hit him... or rather would soon be hitting him.
The weight of my father's memory pressed heavily on my chest as I walked through the revolving doors, each step deliberate and purposeful. It had taken me years to get here.
Countless sleepless nights planning, manipulating, climbing my way back to a place where I could strike the Knights where it hurt most.
And today.... today was my first day as Sebastian Knight's newest assistant.
The lobby was a pristine white, sleek and modern, much like the man who owned it all. Sebastian Knight. Even saying his name in my head made my jaw clench.
Sebastian wasn't just a billionaire; he was a puppeteer, the unseen hand behind the curtain, wielding power unseen as his choices impacted lives.
He was brutal. Focused. Controlled. And exactly the type of man deserving of watching his world crumble.
Still, no matter how much anticipation I'd braced myself for, it hadn't been enough for him.
The private elevator slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped inside, my heart racing a little more with each floor it ascended.
The mirrored walls threw back a reflection of myself I barely recognized. My skirt was tight enough to be tattooed on, my dark brown waves cascading over my bare shoulders in loose ringlets, my hazel eyes predatory and sharp.
I pressed the button leading to the penthouse, the Devil's lair. I knew he would be there waiting for me. A jolt of something hot skated under her skin at the mere thought of seeing him in person.
The doors slid open with a nearly inaudible hiss, and there he was. The atmosphere felt like it changed the second I crossed the threshold into his office.
He was looking out over the city through that glass wall, talking on the phone. But even with his back to me, I swear I could feel the force of will coming off of him.
Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing one of those clean-cut suits that looked like they were tailored just for him.
If you wanted an image to represent dominance and control? That man would have been it.
And at that moment, I'm not even sure how to explain it, but I think I hated him more completely than anyone or anything that had ever existed before as part of my world.
I knew as soon as he turned and looked at me, I would have to do it properly. The assistant. Harmless and ignorant.
He hadn't seen me yet, but I felt the magnetic pull of him, the raw, masculine energy that seemed to hum in the air between us.
When he finally turned, icy blue eyes locked with mine. And for a tiny second, I couldn't fucking breathe.
He was beautiful.
I had seen pictures of him, of course. Read every article, every interview. But still, nothing could have ever prepared me for the sheer force of actually being in his presence.
His jet-black hair was disheveled like he'd constantly been running his hands through it in frustration.
The stubble outlining his sharp jaw made my insides coil tightly, and mouth-watering, full lips were pressed into a hard line as he continued to speak on the phone without even acknowledging me.
But it was those eyes...those piercing ice blue eyes that I felt drilling into mine even though our gazes hadn't exactly locked.
Fire licked at the apex of my thighs as I did my best to take him in. To absorb anything other than their focused gaze and be swept up by how seamlessly his body moved with all the power and elegance of a predator.
Not by his power. Not by his looks. And certainly not by the low hum of sexual tension that seemed to spark between us even from across the room.
Finally, he ended his call, slipping his phone into his pocket before his eyes locked onto mine. And when they did, I felt the air leave my lungs.
"You're late." His voice was smooth and dangerous as he appeared from the shadows; it sent a chill down my spine.
Startled, I blinked at him in surprise. His presence consumed the room, but despite how hard my heart hammered against my ribs, I smiled and stepped forward.
My heels clicked effortlessly along the shining floor. "I was merely taking in the view."
I couldn't afford to lose my focus.
His eyes trailed over me, slow, steady, like he was taking my measure or something.
"Admire on your own time. Here, you work."
I fought back the urge to roll my eyes at him. Asshole.
But I tipped my chin up instead and let a little smile play on my lips. "Of course, Mr Knight. I'm here to work. And I have no doubt we'll be seeing plenty of each other."
His gaze darkened, lingering on my mouth for a beat longer than necessary. "That remains to be seen."
The words were cold, but his eyes... God, his eyes were burning into me, dark and full of something dangerous. Lust. I could see it, feel it crackling between us.
And then suddenly, he took a step forward. In an instant, he had closed the distance between us, and I felt the heat of his body. The force of him made me gasp, and then his hand was on my wrist.
I swear to God he nearly broke it.
It felt like a steel shackle transformed into molten lava on contact with my skin.
My breaths came hard and fast as the charged air around us sparked with energy.
"You think you know what you're walking into, Miss Morgan," he said softly, his voice dropping an octave, making my thighs clench together. "But you're playing with fire."
I let out a slow breath, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to let him see how much he affected me. "I'm not afraid of getting burned, Mr. Knight."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, dark and knowing, as his grip tightened ever so slightly. "Good. Because in my world, you either burn... or you burn everything down."
His words were a challenge, a warning. But I was ready for it. What he didn't know was that I wasn't here to just survive the fire.
I was here to start it.