Chapter 2 The First Meeting

The First Meeting

"Emma Comes across Alexander Drax-Whoosh There Goes the Tension and Chemistry.-

---

1. Ticking Clock

I was yet to get myself settled on the desk when my phone went off.

A single message.

DRAX. NOW.

Nothing pleasant, no instructions.

Just his name: a command.

My heart pounded in my chest. My first official meeting with Alexander Drax. This morning I had spent thirty-six minutes in his office, and from then I understood perfectly that he was a man who would not stand for inefficiency.

And now he was wanting me back to his office.

I grabbed my notebook and took a deep breath. Concentrate. Don't overthink it. Just go.

By the time I reached the frosted glass doors, my hands had steadied, though my heart was racing.

A single knock.

A pause.

Then-

"Enter."

---

2. The Man at the Chair

The air in Alexander Drax's office always seemed to carry a certain weight compared to the rest of the building. It's not only the silence or the way the city behind him just seemed to stretch for eternity. It was him.

He sat back in his chair behind a sleek black desk that gleamed under the overhead lights. His suit was impeccable, and every inch of him was composed and controlled. The man who never hesitated on the validity of any of his decisions.

Except now he was looking at me with curious intensity as if I had done something unexpected.

I shut the door unhurriedly behind me and said after me, "You called for me, sir?"

A slow nod. "Sit."

I moved toward the chair across from him, forcing myself to keep my gait slow. Again, if he tested me, I wouldn't fail.

Seating myself in the chair, he leaned forward slightly, storm-gray eyes regarding mine.

"You made it longer than I expected," he said.

I kept my expression neutral. "It's been three hours."

"And most don't make it past one."

I arched an eyebrow. "I assume you love watching people fail."

Something flickered in his eyes-interest, amusement?

"I enjoy seeing who's worth keeping," he corrected. "I don't tolerate wasted space."

The tension between us tugged and pulled. Again, he was testing me, I could feel it.

"So," I said, keeping my voice calm, "am I wasting space?"

An instant of silence.

Then-

"Not yet."

---

3. The First Challenge

Drax leaned backward in his chair and surveyed me with an expression I still couldn't decipher.

"Tell me," he asked, "what do you know about Leonard Blackwell?"

The name sent a ripple of alarm coursing through me. Leonard Blackwell was a corporate giant, a man who realized his fortune by buying out tech companies in a killer market, medium park cause vested by competitors. Ruthless. Cutthroat. Dangerous.

I met Drax's gaze. "He's a venture capitalist with a reputation for hostile takeovers. He's currently circling two major firms, both in AI development."

Drax's lips curled slightly. "Good. What more?""

I hesitated. Another trap?

I weighed my words carefully. "There are rumors he's targeting Drax Industries."

That one wordly utterance made him stiff, and now he stooped slightly, the tension shifting gently from his shoulders to his expression.

"You were actually paying attention," he murmured.

I resisted the urge for a significant swallow. "I guess I have to be if I am to be of any use as an assistant."

For a moment, he just watched me. The way he studied people was unsettling-like he was peeling off layers, looking deep beneath the surface for the cracks.

Then, he slid a folder across the desk.

"Blackwell is on the move now," he said. "Find out what leverage he actually has for me, within the hour."

My hands tightened convulsively on the folder.

One hour.

It couldn't fail.

"I'll have your report on the desk before the deadline," I reassuredly announced.

Something flickered in his eyes once again. Approval?

Then, a slow smirk. "We'll see."

---

4. The Chemistry

I got off the chair, with the folder ready in my hand. But when I went for the door, his voice rang through.

"Miss Sinclair."

I turned back. "Yes?"

He let his gaze sweep over me-an almost embarrassing, heated sense under his gaze.

"Not what I expected," he almost mused.

I cocked my head. "And what did you expect?"

"Someone predictable."

I swallowed. "Disappointed?"

A pause.

Then-a slow, almost dangerous smile.

"Not yet."

I turned and walked out before he could see me shudder to withhold my breath.

---

5. The One-Hour Countdown

I hurried against time, flipping through financial records, legal filings, and industry reports. My head was running in overdrive at the last moments with a picture of Leonard Blackwell's strategy forming.

At last, by the forty-five-minute mark, I had my answer

Blackwell wasn't just making a move; he was setting up a corporate coup. He had insider connections, backdoor dealings, and sabotaging networks working in his favor.

And in his sights was Drax Industries.

At fifty-nine minutes and twenty seconds, I walked back into Alexander Drax's office and laid the completed report on his desk.

He, however, didn't look right away at the report.

He looked at me.

"That was fast," he said.

"You gave me a deadline," I said casually. "And I met it."

He smiled a little. "Impressive."

An electric moment of silence hung between us. The kind of silence at once pregnant with meaning, speaking of an unvoiced challenge, of unbreakable attraction.

I could feel the change in the air hissing and bubbling with furious energy.

And then-

He finally opened the folder.

The smirk disappeared from his lips.

---

6. The Shift in Power

His visage became hardened as the report was scanned. His jaw tensed, the flex of the muscle spent conspiring against meet there underneath.

I could perceive what was consuming his thoughts. The pattern of deceit, crafted snares choicely placed, the moves Blackwell was making behind the curtain.

Drax's fingers curled slightly over the edge of the page.

He looked up at me.

His gray eyes were sharper than ever.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," I replied with no hesitation at all.

A long silence, measured and awful.

Then-

"That bastard," he muttered under his breath.

I stiffened. That was the first time I had seen a seam rip open in his armor. A mere shadow of something primal just behind the ice.

And just that quick, the mask returned.

He folded the file and leveled his fingers onto the desk. "Miss Sinclair," he started slowly, "I think I've underestimated you."

The shivers ran down my spine, but maintaining my voice steady, I replied, "That makes two of us."

He exhaled low-a sharp, bark-like sound, almost not like a laugh.

Suddenly he leaned back in his seat.

"Congratulations," he said. "You've just assured you will work for me more than a week."

The tense connection between us felt electric and undeniably there.

I held his gaze, my heart pounding like a drum.

"And what will happen beyond that week?"

His smirk came back slow and knowing.

"We'll see."

And for the first time since I walked into his office, a realization washed over me.

I hadn't just passed his test.

I had captured his attention.

And that might be far more dangerous than failing.