Chapter 5 First Moves...

The morning sunlight poured through the glass walls of Grey Enterprises, casting sharp reflections on the polished floors. Arya sat at the large conference table in Kian's office, her fingers drumming lightly against the smooth surface. Around her, the room was immaculate-sterile even-with sleek black furniture and minimalist art. A far cry from the cozy, cluttered spaces she once rearranged in her childhood home.

She glanced out at the city skyline, the jagged peaks of skyscrapers glowing in the soft dawn light. It was beautiful-but cold. Just like the man who owned this building.

Her phone buzzed quietly, pulling her back to the present. A message from Lara flashed on the screen: *"Be careful. You're diving into deep waters."* Arya smiled faintly, fingers tightening around the device. She needed this. No matter the risk.

Her first day on the job was a blur of introductions and briefings. The design team was professional, competent, but guarded. She caught a few curious glances, the silent question lingering: who was this new woman, and how had she landed such a prestigious project?

Arya stayed quiet, taking mental notes while making sure her enthusiasm showed just enough to inspire confidence without drawing suspicion. She kept her gaze steady and her answers precise.

The project manager, a sharp-eyed woman named Simone, handed her a thick folder of preliminary plans. "We're working on a full penthouse renovation. Security is tight, so everything must be vetted through me first."

Arya nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle on her shoulders. This was her chance to get close to Kian. To the company. To the truth.

---

At lunch, Arya found a quiet corner in the company cafeteria, pulling out her phone to scan news articles and company reports. She jotted down names, dates, and snippets of information she could weave into her story. But the deeper she searched, the more she realized how tightly controlled the narrative around Kian Grey was.She still wonders who the man was,what the man said that night that made Kian so mad to get drunk that way.

Publicly, he was flawless-successful, philanthropic, private. No scandals, no gossip. The perfect billionaire.

But Arya had learned long ago that every polished surface hid cracks beneath.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night at the bar, to Kian's intense, distant eyes. He hadn't recognized her then-or maybe he was pretending not to. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

---

Afternoon arrived faster than she expected, and just as she was gathering her notes, the door to the office swung open. Kian stepped in, his tall frame filling the doorway.

"Arya Snow," he said crisply, using her last name like a brand stamp. "How's the penthouse redesign coming?"

Arya's heart hammered, but her voice was calm. "I've started drafting some initial layouts and gathered ideas that reflect the company's brand-strong, modern, and elegant."

He studied her for a moment, expression unreadable. "Good. This project needs to embody the future we're building here. No frivolous details, no wasted space."

She nodded. "I understand."

He walked closer, eyes sharp as a hawk's. "You'll be working out of this office for the next two months. That way, I expect regular updates and quick turnarounds."

"I'll make sure the deadlines are met," Arya assured him.

For a fleeting second, his gaze softened-a vulnerability she barely caught before it was replaced with his usual cool demeanor.

"Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything," he said before turning to leave.

Arya's chest tightened as the door clicked shut behind him. She was in deeper now than ever before.

---

That evening, back in her modest apartment, Arya stared at the glowing screen of her laptop. The design files she'd accessed through Simone's system were locked tight behind encrypted layers and complex passwords.

She tapped her fingers on the keyboard, frustration creeping in. How was she supposed to uncover company secrets hidden in digital fortresses?

Her gaze drifted to the small framed photo on her desk-a childhood picture of her and Lara, carefree and dreaming. The memory grounded her.

She had to find another way.

---

The next few days passed in a swirl of meetings, site visits, and subtle observations. Arya moved through the building like a ghost, noting security badges, employee badges, and the patterns of people's comings and goings. She learned which floors were restricted, which offices had cameras, and where she might find a moment alone with a computer or filing cabinet.She still haven't found herself in Kian's office which he mostly keeps under lock.

Each encounter with Kian was brief but charged. He was always polite but distant, his eyes sharp for any sign of weakness-or deception.

Yet, every time their gazes met, Arya felt a strange pull, like they were both circling the same secret, neither willing to reveal it first. Well maybe it was just her and guilt was creeping in.

---

One afternoon, while reviewing color swatches in the conference room, Arya overheard two executives discussing an upcoming board meeting-something about a new partnership that could change the company's direction. She filed the detail away, sensing its importance.

Later, she found herself staring out the window, the city lights flickering as dusk fell. This was more than a design project now-it was a delicate dance on a knife's edge.

How much could she risk? How far would she go?

---

Before leaving the office that night, Arya paused by the elevator and caught a glimpse of Kian standing alone in his glass-walled office. His back was to her as he spoke quietly on the phone, voice low but tense.

She couldn't hear the words, but the furrow in his brow told her something was wrong.

For the first time, Arya felt the weight of the man behind the legend. Not just the billionaire, but a man carrying burdens no one else saw.

---

Back home, she opened her journal and began to write-not for her editor, not for the world, but for herself.

*Two months. Two months to find the truth. Two months to survive the game.*

Arya Snow was ready.

Or so she thought.