BEYOND THE FACADE.

CHAPTER ONE

Olivia Reed sat at the edge of her cramped apartment bed, gently rubbing her aching feet. The moment she kicked off her heels, her phone buzzed.

Her stomach twisted.

She didn't need to check the caller ID. She already knew.

"Yes, sir?" she answered, voice barely above a whisper.

"Come to the penthouse. Now."

Click.

No room for hesitation. No questions. Just orders.

She swallowed her exhaustion, grabbed her coat, and stepped into the freezing dark.

The mansion loomed like a warning.

Tall iron gates. A driveway too long.

The kind of silence money buys.

Inside, the scent of Chanel No. 5 and spilled wine clung to the air.

A woman lounged on the velvet couch, her silk robe slipping off one shoulder. A glass of red dangled lazily between her fingers.

Her gaze dragged across Olivia like she was an unwanted draft.

"Took you long enough," she murmured. "Go get a refill."

Olivia stiffened. "We're out, ma'am."

The woman tilted her head, a slow smile curling her lips.

"Then go get more."

Olivia blinked. "It's one in the morning."

The smile vanished. The voice dropped.

"Are you refusing a simple errand?" She leaned forward, her tone like velvet over glass. "You know what's at stake, don't you?"

Olivia turned toward Hayes, searching for any sign of backup.

He didn't even look at her.

"You heard her, Rose. Get the wine."

"...It's Olivia."

This time, his gaze lifted. Cool. Calculated.

Then, he smiled.

"Then get the wine, Rose."

Finding the wine was hell.

The first shop's bell jingled softly as she pushed open the door, breath fogging in the cold.

She muttered the name of the wine.

"We're out," the man said without even glancing up.

The second store wasn't better. The cashier looked confused.

"Never heard of it."

The third one-finally-an older man behind the counter raised a brow.

"You're searching for that now? At this hour?"

She nodded. He sighed.

"Five blocks south. Take a left. You'll see it."

By the time she returned, bottle in hand, her fingers had gone numb. Her coat clung to her like frost.

She stepped inside.

Silence.

Hayes was asleep. So was the woman.

She stood there.

The bottle heavy in her hand. Her jaw tight. Her heart hammering.

All that-for this.

She turned and walked back out. No words. Just frost and fury.

The streets were too quiet.

She tugged her coat closer, eyes scanning the dark. That's when she saw them.

Five men.

Lingering in a side alley. Watching.

Her steps quickened. She kept her head down.

But she could feel it. Their eyes. Like fingers against her skin.

Then-

A black car rolled up beside her.

Tinted windows. Low, slow motion.

The window dropped an inch. A man's voice floated out.

"Need a ride?"

She didn't look. Didn't stop.

"No, thank you."

The car kept crawling.

"You sure?"

She clutched her bag tighter. "I'm fine."

Her heart thudded as she walked past the alley-

And froze.

One of the men had his hand wrapped around a girl's wrist.

She couldn't have been more than sixteen.

The girl's eyes were wide with silent terror, her mouth forming words she couldn't speak.

Olivia kept walking.

She didn't see it. She didn't.

Except-she did.

She turned back to the car.

Knocked once on the glass.

The man inside raised a brow. "Changed your mind?"

"...Yes. Please."

She climbed in. Shut the door.

The car purred forward, swallowing the silence.

Inside, the leather was cool. The air smelled of cologne-and something metallic.

The man at the wheel didn't say much. She saw the edge of a tattoo peek from beneath his sleeve as he turned.

"Coming from a party?" he asked finally.

Olivia gave a tired laugh. "Work."

That was all. He nodded once.

When she reached home, the car eased away. No words. No goodbye. Just quiet.

She stepped toward her door. Her body ached. Her head spun.

Her phone buzzed.

Hayes.

She answered.

"You got the wrong flavor of wine." No hello. No thanks. Just venom.

Olivia's jaw clenched. "I was lucky to find any at all."

"It's wrong. Fix it."

She stared at her screen.

Then brought the phone to her ear.

"Hello? Hello? Ugh... bad reception-"

And hung up.

Just like that.

She waited.

No call back. No message. Nothing.

Good.

With that, Olivia went to bed.

CHAPTER TWO

Olivia was already awake.

Not by accident, but by force of habit now.

After last night's humiliating errand and the chill still lingering in her bones, she wasn't about to let Hayes catch her off-guard again.

By 6:30 a.m., she was dressed-crisp white blouse, sleek skirt, her heels giving her the illusion of power. Her hair was smoothed back, her lips pressed into a neutral line.

By 6:45 a.m., she was out the door, grabbing his usual coffee order from the café on 5th: black. No sugar. No room. No personality. Just like him.

By 7:20 a.m., she stepped into Haze & Co.

The building thrummed like a living thing. Phones ringing. Keyboards tapping. Shoes echoing across marble floors like gunshots. No one lingered. No one smiled.

She moved with the rhythm. Quick, efficient, silent.

At the front desk, Dana barely looked up.

"Mr. Hayes is waiting," she said, her tone clipped.

Of course he was.

Olivia smoothed the front of her skirt and made her way to his office.

Hayes didn't glance up when she entered.

His office was still intimidating-floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire city beneath him. Every piece of furniture screamed wealth without warmth.

He was flipping through a file, fingers drumming against the desk like a warning.

"You're late," he said flatly.

She blinked. "I-"

His hand lifted. Just that.

A single gesture. Enough to silence her.

She bit her tongue and approached, placing the coffee gently on the desk.

He took a sip.

And immediately spit it back out.

The sharp splash of hot liquid hitting polished wood made her flinch.

His jaw tensed. He set the cup down like it had insulted him personally.

"What the hell is this?"

Olivia swallowed. "I got it from the usual café-same barista, same order."

He leaned back, folding his arms slowly. "So now it's their fault?"

"No, I'm just saying-"

"I didn't ask what you were saying."

His voice was cold steel. Each word polished and unforgiving.

Then, without looking at her, he reached for a thick file on the desk and slid it toward her.

"Here. Read it."

Olivia hesitated. Then picked it up.

Her eyes moved across the first page.

Then the second.

And then she stopped.

Breath caught. Heart locked.

$100 billion.

Her voice cracked. "This... this can't be right."

"It is," Hayes said.

"This is more than the company's entire liquidity. If this doesn't go through-"

"It will."

"But if it doesn't-"

He looked up, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Do you think panicking helps?"

Her lips parted. "I just think we should be careful-"

"There are rules. Guidelines. Legal channels-"

"Rose," he interrupted. The name stung.

"It's Olivia," she said quietly.

But he continued, ignoring her correction.

"You're not here to challenge the deal. You're here to prep the papers and hand them to me before the meeting."

Her grip on the folder tightened.

"There are laws," she murmured.

Now he stood. Slowly. Deliberately.

Came around the desk. Stopped just short of her personal space.

"You're not a lawyer, Olivia. You're an assistant."

He smiled, cold and calculated.

"Don't forget your place."

The boardroom was already filled with men in tailored suits, their expressions unreadable.

No greetings. No warm-ups. No idle chatter.

Just silence.

Hayes slid the contract forward.

They signed.

Page after page. Without hesitation. Without reading.

Olivia stood stiffly beside him, her chest tight.

$100 billion. Just like that.

She turned to Hayes, trying to read his expression.

But he was already looking at her.

"You should get used to this," he said simply.

Her stomach twisted.

For the first time, she understood just how far out of her depth she really was.

After the meeting, there was no break. No breath.

Hayes leaned back against his desk, arms folded across his chest.

"Rose," he said.

She flinched. "It's Olivia."

"From now on, you'll be in every meeting. Every call. Every deal."

His tone made it sound like a punishment, not a promotion.

Her mouth went dry. "Sir, I-"

"You're not negotiating," he said flatly. "Your job is to make sure I never walk into a room unprepared. I don't do chaos. And neither do you."

She straightened. "Understood."

He nodded once, then waved her off. "You can go."

She pressed the elevator button, head spinning.

But as the doors opened, he stepped out.

The man from the car.

Tall. Dressed in black. Calm. Unbothered.

And that scar-just beneath the collar of his shirt.

Recognition slammed into her.

She froze, her mouth opening before her brain caught up.

"Hey," she called, voice unsure.

He didn't stop. But his eyes-dark and quick-flicked toward her for a split second.

She stepped in front of him.

"Wait-I know you. From last night."

He paused. Barely. Then:

"Do you?"

She folded her arms. "Yeah. You drove me home."

His expression didn't shift. "Right."

"That's it? Just... 'right'?"

He gave her a faint glance. "What else is there?"

Her pulse quickened. He wasn't rude, exactly-but he wasn't curious either. Like none of it mattered.

"Do you work here?"

He glanced around. "No."

Then just like that, he checked his watch.

"I've gotta go."

And walked past her like nothing had happened.

She stared after him, questions swarming. But there were no answers.

Not yet.

And something told her-this wasn't the last time she'd see him.

Or the last time she'd regret it.

CHAPTER THREE

After the meeting, Hayes didn't give her a break. He leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

"Rose. From now on, you'll be in every meeting. Every call. Every deal." Olivia straightened. Every meeting? She tried to keep her voice even. "Sir, I-"

"You're not negotiating. Your job is to ensure that every contract, every document, every file is prepped before I step into a room. I don't walk into meetings empty-handed, and neither will you."

Olivia straightened. "Understood."

He exhaled through his nose. "Good." Then, dismissively, "You can go."

Olivia adjusted the file in her arms as she approached the receptionist's desk. The morning had been chaotic, and her to-do list seemed to grow by the minute.

Dana, the receptionist, barely looked up. "Mr. Hayes wants this organized before noon," she muttered, sliding a folder toward her.

Olivia took it with a nod. "Got it."

Just as she turned to leave, the office doors swung open.

A woman strode in, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. She was tall, glamorous, and exuded an air of confidence that seemed to part the office crowd.

She stopped at the desk, tapping her fingers on the surface impatiently. "I'm here to see Hayes.

Dana didn't flinch. "Do you have an appointment?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. "I don't need one. I'm his girlfriend."

Olivia's eyebrows shot up. Girlfriend?

Dana glanced at her screen, unfazed. "I don't see your name on his schedule."

The woman folded her arms. "Give him a call."

Dana sighed but picked up the phone. A moment later, she hung up. "You can go in.Sorry ma'am."

The woman smirked and strutted toward Hayes's office.

Olivia shook her head, gripping the file tighter. She shouldn't be surprised. Hayes never seemed to be the commitment type.

As she turned to head down the hallway, the elevator doors slid open.

A man stepped out.

He was tall, light-skinned, with an effortless posture that made him seem untouchable. His presence filled the space around him, and for a split second, the noise of the office faded into the background.

Olivia's heart skipped. She knew that face. That jawline. The scar near the base of his neck.

It was him.

The guy from last night. The one who had driven her home.

She wasn't sure if it was her nerves or the unexpectedness of it all, but she couldn't help herself.

"Hey," she called out, her voice unsure.

He didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge her, but there was a flicker in his eyes as he glanced her way.

She stepped closer, blocking his path. "Wait-I know you."

He paused for a second, barely. His eyes flicked over her, unreadable. "Do you?"

She crossed her arms, trying to steady her voice. "Yeah. You drove me home last night."

A faint look of recognition, but it quickly vanished. He gave a slight nod. "Right."

Olivia frowned. "That's it? Just 'right'?"

His gaze met hers, indifferent. "What else is there?"

She swallowed, feeling the awkwardness settle in. She had expected something more-an acknowledgment, maybe an apology for his coldness-but all she got was this disinterested version of him.

"Do you work here?" she asked, her tone a little sharper than intended.

He glanced around the office, as if the question didn't quite make sense. "No."

That was all. No explanation. No interest. Just a single word.

Olivia blinked. "Well, okay then."

Silence stretched between them before he checked his watch. "I've gotta go."

And with that, he walked past her, leaving her standing there, more confused than before.

She shook her head and headed to Jasmine's desk, her mind still reeling from the interaction. She dropped the file onto Jasmine's desk with a heavy sigh.

Jasmine looked up, her eyes immediately scanning Olivia's face. "What happened to you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Olivia exhaled sharply. "Not a ghost. Just... a guy."

Jasmine's lips curled into a grin. "A guy? Ooh, sounds intriguing."

Olivia slumped into the chair. "He drove me home last night. I ran into him just now, but he acted like he barely remembered.

Jasmine leaned forward, interested. "Barely remembered? How?"

"I don't know. He seemed like he couldn't care less, like it didn't matter. It was like I was just some random person to him."

Jasmine's eyebrows shot up. "That's cold."

Olivia shook her head. "I didn't expect anything, but still-"

Jasmine's curiosity didn't seem to wane. "So, was he cute?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Jas, that's not the point."

Jasmine gave her a knowing look. "Oh, but it is. You're not going to leave me hanging, are you? Was he cute?"

Olivia hesitated, but the image of him-the sharp jawline, the way his eyes briefly met hers-kept replaying in her mind. "He was... fine."

Jasmine leaned in dramatically, eyes wide. "Fine? Is that code for 'he's so hot, I can't talk about it'?"

Olivia laughed, the tension slowly melting away. "Okay, okay. He's hot. But that's not why it's weird."

Jasmine leaned back, satisfied. "Well, now that's out of the way, let's talk about the weird part. What's his deal?"

Olivia exhaled. "I don't know. He's just... distant."

"Maybe he's shy," Jasmine suggested.

Olivia scoffed. "No. Not shy. Just... cold."

"Hmm," Jasmine mused. "Sounds like someone's playing hard to get."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Right."

Jasmine chuckled. "Yeah, well, you don't get to choose with guys like him. But don't worry, I'll be here for the next chapter."

Olivia gave her a look. "You read too many romance novels."

Jasmine grinned. "Maybe. But it doesn't make me wrong."

Olivia laughed despite herself, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something about her encounter with him was far from over.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I need a break."

snacks? Jasmine asked

"Definitely".

But as she left for lunch, her thoughts drifted back to him. How could someone who looked like that act so indifferent? And why had he barely acknowledged her?

Was he really that detached? Or was there something else going on?

She shoved the thoughts aside. For now, she'd focus on work. But something told her this wasn't the last time she'd be running into Logan.