ARIA’S POV
Aria stepped off the elevator onto the 47th floor at exactly 7:45 AM, her shoulders squared with determination despite the exhaustion weighing down her bones.
She’d survived two days. Two brutal, emotionally devastating days of working beside the man she loved while he treated her like a stranger. Two days of glass walls and cold professionalism and the constant ache of being so close to him while feeling miles apart.
But she was still here. Still standing. Still fighting.
And today, she’d do better.
The office was still relatively quiet at this hour....just a few early arrivals scattered across the floor, their heads bent over laptops and coffee cups. Aria made her way to her desk, set down her bag, and imdiately headed for the executive break room.
Coffee. Black, no sugar, 180 degrees. Ready by 8 AM when he arrived.
She could do this routine in her sleep now. The machine was already warming up, the coffee beans waiting. She prepared it with the sa ticulous care she brought to every task.....because even the smallest mistake could an consequences.
Professional consequences during the day. Personal consequences after hours.
The thought made her shiver. She still didn’t fully understand what "personal consequences" ant. He’d ntioned punishnt, submission, complete control. But he hadn’t actually enacted any of it yet.
Maybe today would be different. Maybe today she’d make a mistake big enough to trigger that side of their arrangent.
The thought should terrify her. Instead, it made sothing low in her belly tighten with anticipation she didn’t want to examine too closely.
Stop it. Focus. Just get through today.
Coffee ready at 7:58 AM, she carried it carefully back to her desk and set it in the small warming station she’d discovered yesterday....a heated platform that would keep it at exactly the right temperature until he arrived.
With that done, she pulled up his calendar and started reviewing the day’s schedule. Board eting at 10 AM. Lunch with a potential investor at 1 PM. Video conference with the Tokyo office at 3 PM. Conference call with legal at 4:30 PM.
A full day. Which ant she needed to prepare briefing materials for the board eting, confirm the restaurant reservation for lunch, ensure the video conference technology was working, and pull the relevant contracts for the legal call.
She was halfway through compiling the board briefing when the energy on the floor shifted.
8:00 AM exactly.
Aria looked up to see Damien stepping off the private elevator, powerful and commanding in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than three months of her salary. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his expression focused and intent as he scanned the floor with those sharp, assessing eyes.
Eyes that landed on her for just a mont before moving on.
No acknowledgnt. No greeting. Just that brief, impersonal glance that said I see you, you’re where you’re supposed to be, carry on.
He walked past her desk without slowing, his presence so overwhelming that she felt the air shift around him. Other employees straightened in their seats, worked just a little bit harder, their body language screaming awareness of the boss’s arrival.
Damien Blackwood commanded a room just by existing in it.
He entered his office, set down his briefcase, and imdiately pulled out his phone. Aria could see him through the glass walls...already working, already focused, completely absorbed in whatever ssage he was reading.
She waited. Watching. Knowing what ca next.
Sure enough, thirty seconds later, his voice ca through the intercom system on her desk.
"Coffee."
One word. Not please. Not a request. A command.
Aria grabbed the perfectly prepared coffee and carried it to his office, knocked once.
"Co in."
She entered, closing the door behind her as he’d taught her to do, and set the coffee on his desk.
He didn’t look up from his phone. "Thank you."
Two words. Slightly better than yesterday’s single-word acknowledgnt.
She turned to leave.
"Aria."
She stopped, turned back. "Yes, sir?"
Finally, his eyes lifted to et hers. Dark. Intense. Unreadable.
"Board eting at 10. I want comprehensive analysis of Q4 projections, competitive positioning, and market trends. On my desk by 9:30."
Ninety minutes. Just like the first day. But this ti, she was prepared.
"Yes, sir. Anything specific you want to focus on?"
Sothing flickered in his eyes. Approval, maybe, that she’d asked instead of just assuming.
"European market trends. That’s where the board will have questions after last ti."
The reminder of her first-day failure stung. But she kept her expression neutral. "Understood. I’ll have it ready."
"Good." He returned to his phone, dismissing her.
Aria left his office and returned to her desk, already pulling up the files she’d need. Q4 projections. Competitive analysis. European market trends.
This ti, she’d get it right. This ti, she’d prove she was capable.
She worked steadily for the next hour, her fingers flying over the keyboard, her dical school training helping her synthesize complex information quickly. The key was finding the narrative....what story did the data tell? What were the trends? What questions would the board ask?
By 9:15, she had a solid fifteen-page briefing. By 9:25, she’d proofread it twice and formatted it perfectly.
At 9:28, she printed it and carried it to Damien’s office.
Knocked.
"Co in."
She set the briefing on his desk. "Q4 analysis. Comprehensive European section starting on page eight."
He picked it up, started reading imdiately. Aria stood there, hands clasped in front of her, waiting for his assessnt.
The silence stretched. He read carefully, thodically, his expression giving nothing away.
Finally, he set it down and looked at her.
"Excellent work. This is exactly what I needed."
Relief flooded through her so powerfully she felt lightheaded. "Thank you, sir."
"The European analysis is particularly strong. Good use of the Brexit impact data." His eyes held hers. "You’re learning."
"I’m trying, sir."
"I can see that." He glanced at the clock. "We have thirty minutes before the eting. Take a break. Get yourself coffee. You’ve earned it."
The praise....small as it was....made her chest warm. "Thank you, sir."
She left his office feeling lighter than she had in days. She’d done it. She’d anticipated his needs, prepared exactly what he wanted, gotten it done ahead of deadline.
Maybe....maybe.....she could actually do this job. Maybe she could prove herself worthy.
She was at her desk, savoring her small victory, when the elevator dinged and a man stepped off.
Aria recognized him imdiately. Julian Pierce....Damien’s best friend. She’d seen him at the estate during her ti there as "Sarah.
He was tall, handso in a different way than Damien, with sandy brown hair and an easy smile that probably chard everyone he t. He wore an expensive suit but with slightly loosened tie, giving him a more relaxed appearance than Damien’s rigid professionalism.
Julian walked directly to her desk, his expression curious and assessing.
" Aria, Is Damien available? I know he has a board eting soon, but I wanted to catch him for a few minutes."
"Let check." She buzzed Damien’s intercom. "Mr. Blackwood, Julian Pierce is here to see you."
"Send him in." A pause. "And Aria.....join us. Bring your notepad."
Her heart skipped. Why did he want her in there?
She grabbed her tablet and followed Julian into Damien’s office. He was standing by the window, looking out over Manhattan, his posture tense despite the casual stance.
"Julian." He turned, and the two n embraced briefly.....the kind of hug that spoke of decades of friendship.
"Damien. You look like hell."
"Thank you for that astute observation."
"I an it. When’s the last ti you slept more than four hours?" Julian’s eyes flicked to Aria, then back to Damien. "We need to talk. Privately."
"Anything you have to say can be said in front of Aria. She’s my assistant. She’ll hear everything eventually anyway."
Julian’s eyebrows rose slightly. "If you’re sure."
"I’m sure." Damien gestured to the sitting area. "Sit. Both of you."
Aria perched on the edge of one of the leather chairs, tablet in hand, trying to make herself invisible. Julian sat across from her, still studying her with that assessing gaze.
"So," Julian said, his eyes on Damien. "This is really happening. You hired her."
"Obviously."
"And you’re.....what? Torturing yourself every day by working beside her? Or torturing her? I can’t tell which."
"Both," Damien said flatly. "Now what did you want to discuss? I have a board eting in twenty minutes."
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