TERESA'S P.O.V.
Three months at Blackwood Creations, and I was finally feeling like I belonged here. The soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint scent of polished oak and leather from my office—I'd co to recognize the slls and sounds as a second ho. It wasn't exactly cozy, but in a towering glass building full of ambition, it felt... powerful. And even though I'd only been appointed CEO a few months ago, I was starting to believe I'd earned it.
Most days, I walked through the halls with my head held high, ignoring the whispers. I'd heard the rumors—the side comnts behind my back. "She must have... you know, spread her legs for Lucian." It was crude, ignorant, and a little laughable. If they only knew how intimidating Lucian Blackwood was, with his scary green gaze that could slice through steel. The man barely acknowledged human emotions, let alone... affection.
Still, I worked harder than I ever had in my life, determined not to let Lucian regret giving this job. And it paid off. I had gained the board's respect, and even Lucian had praised once or twice. It was surreal and rewarding beyond words.
But, of course, corporate life wasn't without its surprises.
I was on my way to the lobby when I nearly crashed into a familiar face—Mark. My ex. The one who had once sweet-talked his way into my life just to siphon off company information for his journalism career. He'd used , dumped , and left jobless. My heart skipped, but not in the good way. No, it was the kind of jolt that told to run—except, for once, I didn't need to.
"Teresa?" His tone dripped with condescension as he crossed his arms, eyeing up and down. "What are you doing here? Don't tell you've co begging for a job here as well."
If it had been a few months ago, I might have turned and fled. But now? Now I felt an unexpected calm wash over , like Lucian's silent, watchful presence was hovering just over my shoulder. I tilted my head, mustering a small smile.
"I could ask you the sa, Mark." I glanced down at the portfolio he clutched to his chest. "Didn't know you were looking for work. Things not working out as you'd hoped?"
He smirked, obviously missing the insult. "Actually, I have an interview here. Pretty much got my foot in the door, thanks to my uncle. Connections, you know." He winked at like we were sharing so inside joke, but all I felt was this odd sense of triumph bubbling up inside. The man who once used as a stepping stone was now trying to claw his way up in my company.
"But you... Teresa, please, this place doesn't hire nobodies." He added.
"Oh, really?" I replied sweetly, biting back a laugh. I didn't need to defend myself; he'd find out soon enough.
And right on cue, my secretary Linda hurried over, a sheaf of papers in hand. "Ms. Ter—uh, Teresa, the board needs your signature on the new hires for the journalism team." She handed a folder. "They said it's urgent."
I smirked and nodded. "Just leave it on my desk. I'll review it when I'm back from my eting."
Mark's face went from smug to... puzzled, like a dog who just lost his favorite chew toy. He glanced between and my secretary, trying to piece it together.
"Wait, why are you asking her for that?"
Linda gave him a look, clearly puzzled. "Because she's the CEO?"
"Excuse , sir... and you are?" Linda asked, her tone polite but cool, clearly oblivious to the tension crackling between us.
Mark blinked at , his mouth hanging open like he'd just been smacked across the face with a cold fish. I watched the wheels turning, his brain sputtering and stalling in shock.
"Th-the CEO?" he stamred. His face went pale, the color drained right out of his smug expression.
And then, as if on cue, two of Lucian's bodyguards strode up beside , nodding in greeting. They always showed up when Juliette was off on one of her mysterious "missions," never letting in on the details. One of them casually took my handbag—a routine by now—while Mark just stood there, looking like he'd seen a ghost, his jaw practically on the floor, face pale as ash.
I glanced over my shoulder, flashing Mark my sweetest, most wicked smile. "Good luck with your interview, Mark," I said, voice syrupy sweet. "I'm sure your... connections will co in handy." I gave him a little wave as I headed toward the door.
The sll of victory was as sweet as the perfu I wore, lingering in the air as I walked away. The second I stepped outside, the crisp autumn breeze wrapped around , and I couldn't help but laugh softly. It felt... freeing. Empowering.
Yet, as I headed toward the car, a pang of uncertainty crept in. I had one month left at Lucian Blackwood's estate. Just one month before I'd have to leave this life behind and go back to... what, exactly? A tiny apartnt, an old car, and Luke's motivational speeches? A life that felt a hundred miles away from who I was becoming?
And then there was Lucian himself. Always composed, always a mystery, he never failed to keep on my toes. He was private, sarcastic, infuriatingly calm in every crisis. And yet, with all his confidence, I had the strangest feeling he was hiding sothing even bigger than his fortune. It was there in the way he looked at sotis like he knew more than he let on—as if he could see right through .
But that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, I leaned back in the car seat and inhaled the rich scent of leather and the faint trace of Lucian's cologne lingering on the seats.
For the ti begin, I wasn't going to let doubts ruin the life I'd built. I will let tomorrow take care of itself.
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