The Ceo silent bride

Lena Carter tightened her grip on the folder in her hands, her nerves strung tighter than a violin string. Her first day at *CrossTech*, and she was already five minutes early-which, according to online forums about the company's CEO, *Damien Cross*, was still considered "late."

She smoothed her blouse, adjusted her glasses, and stepped out of the elevator onto the 47th floor.

The office buzzed with quiet urgency. Sleek furniture, muted colors, and staff that looked like they were trained not to breathe too loudly. She swallowed. This was another world.

And then it happened.

Turning a corner too fast, she collided with a wall-or so she thought-until the wall growled.

"Are you blind?"

Papers flew from her arms. She stumbled back, heart racing, and looked up into steel-gray eyes. Damien Cross himself.

Tall. Cold. Immaculately dressed. And glaring at her like she'd just spilled coffee on his million-dollar suit.

"I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Cross," she said quickly, kneeling to gather her papers. Her hands shook.

"You're in my way," he snapped. "And in my office, people don't apologize. They don't make mistakes."

She stood, flustered. "I'm your new assistant. Lena Carter."

He looked her over once. "Figures."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't look like you belong here."

She blinked. "I didn't realize you judged competence by clothing."

The silence that followed was thick. A junior staffer gasped nearby.

Damien's lips curved into something between a smirk and a warning. "Watch your tone, Miss Carter. You won't last a week."

"I'm not here to impress you, Mr. Cross. Just to do my job."

He stepped closer, invading her space. She didn't move.

"You're bold. That'll either keep you employed... or get you fired."

Then he turned and walked away, not bothering to look back.

Lena exhaled. Welcome to hell.