Chapter 3 The Stepmother's Game

Two days into the job, Ariana was beginning to see how the machine worked - and where it could break.

Every minute was controlled. Every task calculated. Blackwood Empire didn't just demand efficiency - it devoured it.

She sat at her desk, double-checking the flight arrangements for Damien's upcoming business trip to Geneva when the elevator chimed behind her. A woman's voice cut through the sterile quiet like a knife.

"My, my. You must be the new darling."

Ariana turned to see a woman who looked like she belonged on the cover of a luxury fashion magazine. Slender, poised, dressed in an emerald green suit that matched her predatory smile.

"I'm Caroline Blackwood," the woman said, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "Damien's stepmother."

Ariana shook her hand cautiously. "Ariana Greene."

"Oh, I know who you are." The smile sharpened. "Your father's little legacy."

Ariana's stomach twisted but she kept her expression neutral. "I'm Mr. Blackwood's assistant."

"Of course you are." Caroline's gaze swept over Ariana's modest outfit, her simple ponytail, her faint makeup. "How refreshing. He usually prefers... shinier ornaments."

The veiled insult hung in the air.

Ariana responded with a polite smile. "I'm here for the job, not the jewelry."

Caroline's eyes glittered. "For now, dear."

Before Ariana could reply, Damien's office door opened.

"Caroline," Damien said coolly. "What do you want?"

His tone was polite but distant - the way one might address an unwanted guest at a private party.

Caroline's smile never faltered. "I was simply welcoming your new hire. She's... charming."

Damien's eyes flickered briefly to Ariana, then back to Caroline. "I'm busy."

"Of course," Caroline purred, already turning toward the elevator. "I'll see you at dinner."

As the doors closed behind her, the air seemed to warm again.

Ariana returned to her screen but felt Damien's gaze lingering on her.

"Be careful with her," he said quietly.

"I can handle myself, Mr. Blackwood."

He nodded, but his eyes darkened. "People who believe that are often the first ones broken."

There was something in his voice - not arrogance, not threat. A warning laced with experience.

As he disappeared back into his office, Ariana sat in the silent room, her hands suddenly colder against the keyboard.

This world is colder than I thought, she realized.

And the real game has only begun.