Rain had been falling all morning,dropping through the old ceilings of Amelia Hart’s tiny apartment. The city outside was noisy as usual with the loud buzzing of cat horn and the Chatter of the rain drops on the ceiling.
She stared at the rejection email glowing on her laptop screen, the words blurring from how many times she had read them. We regret to inform you… It was the fourth rejection this month. Her bank balance was a joke, she couldn't even afford there meals a day, and she hadn't paid her rent, and her landlord was here yesterday banding on the door commanding she comes out with his money.
Amelia shut the laptop with a frustrated sigh, moved to her bed and collapsed in it, she was a degree holder in literature, with the dream of becoming a successful novelist, and here she was trying to atleast feed twice a day.
Her phone began to ring. She almost ignored it, expecting another debt reminder. But the message was… unusual.
Miss Amelia Hart, you are requested for an interview at Cross Enterprises. Confidential position. Immediate employment. Report at 10 a.m. tomorrow. Do not be late.
Amelia blinked. Cross Enterprises? Everyone knew that name. Damien Cross was the CEO of the company and practically everyone knew him for his wealth and untouchable power, he collaborated with so many other large companies in and out of the country, Amelia wondered to herself "why a nobody like me, what does he want from me? and how does he know me? She was in thought for a long time.
A chill crawled down her spine. There was no phone number, no sender ID, just that stark message.
She should delete it. Ignore it. It screamed danger.
And yet… what choice did she have?
---
The next morning, Amelia stood in front of the towering glass skyscraper, she had the thought of turning back when she saw how neat and expensive everyone's outfit looked compared to her worn out hand bag and old blouse, she took a deep breath and moved on.
Security asked her for her card but she had non so she just told them her name, and to her surprise they welcomed her like they were expecting her, one of the security then showed her to the elevator and told her she was heading for the top floor.
Her heart was racing as the elevator moved up from floor to floor untill it finally stopped to the corridor of the last floor, and at the end of the corridor a single door.
Her palms were sweaty when she knocked.
“Enter.”
His voice—deep, commanding—slid through the door and into her bones. She pushed it open.
The office was large, it was filled with gold accessories,with large glass windows, and long book selves with different books arranged on them, at the middle of the office sat a large golden table and behind it was mister Damien cross.
He was taller than she imagined, even seated. his broad shoulders, his perfectly sewed suit and his eyes gray coloured and very pretty, Amelia steered at him in silence.
He studied her in silence, and Amelia felt like a schoolgirl being examined.
“Miss Hart,” he said at last, his voice smooth but edged. “Sit.”
She obeyed, her knees brushing the leather chair.
“You’re probably wondering why you’re here.”
“That… would be an understatement,” she managed.
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “I need an assistant. Discreet, loyal, adaptable. You were recommended.”
Her brows furrowed. “Recommended? By who?”
He leaned back, steepling his fingers. “That’s not important.”
Her pulse quickened. Not important? Everything about this was strange. “Mr. Cross, I don’t understand. I—I have no real experience. Surely you could hire someone more qualified.”
“Perhaps. But qualifications aren’t what I require from you.” His eyes locked on hers. “I require obedience. Confidentiality. And a certain… resilience.”
Amelia swallowed hard. “And if I say no?”
“You won’t,” he said simply, with such quiet certainty that it unsettled her.
Her fingers tightened around her bag strap. “And what exactly would I be doing?”
He stood then, moving around the desk until he was standing near her. Too near. The faint scent of expensive cologne wrapped around her, intoxicating and dangerous.
“You’ll manage schedules, handle documents, accompany me to certain events. But more importantly—” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’ll follow rules. There is one in particular I want clear from the beginning.”
Her breath caught. “What rule?”
His gaze hardened. “The east wing of my estate. The locked study. You will never enter it. Do you understand?”
The words felt heavy, like chains clicking shut around her. “Yes,” she whispered, though she didn’t fully know why.
“Good.” He straightened, the air around him regaining that sharp edge of control. “You’ll start tomorrow. A driver will collect you at nine. The pay will be… generous.” He slid a sleek contract across the desk.
Amelia stared at it. This was insane. Dangerous. Nothing about this made sense.
And yet, her mind flashed to the overdue bills, the empty fridge, the rejection emails.
Her hand trembled as she picked up the pen.
“Excellent.” He said with a firm voice. "Welcome to my world miss Hart"
As she signed her name, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just stepped into a cage—one that gleamed like gold but locked tighter than iron.
---
That night, Amelia lay awake in her apartment, staring at the ceilings, she was meant to be happy but instead she was worried and felt unease like something was going wrong.
Damien Cross’s face kept appearing in her mind: those cold gray eyes, that unreadable smirk, that warning about the locked study.
Why choose her? Why the secrecy?
And why, when he had stood so close, had she felt something other than fear? Something darker, more dangerous… something like desire?
The rain began again outside, soft against the glass. Amelia shut her eyes.
Whatever she had just signed up for, she knew one thing with certainty.
Her life would never be the same again.
.
