(Kael's Point of View)
I built this empire with blood, numbers, and control. Nothing enters my world without purpose, and no one walks through the doors of Damorian Tower unless I allow it.
So when the girl walked into my office—young, unsure, and completely unprepared for what I was—I knew immediately: she didn't belong here.
And yet, I couldn't look away.
She stood in front of my desk, trying to look composed. Cheap blazer. Worn heels. Hands clenched around a basic folder. Her name was Aria Langley, but that wasn't what interested me.
What did was the way she looked at me.
Not like the others—fearful, reverent, calculating. No. She looked at me like I was a puzzle. Like she could see through the walls I'd spent years building. Like I didn't scare her.
And that made her dangerous.
"Miss Langley," I said, not bothering to stand. "You're early."
She nodded once. "I didn't want to risk being late."
Smart. Or lucky. I don't tolerate lateness. But what caught me wasn't her words—it was her voice. Soft, but steady. Almost too steady for someone sitting across from me for the first time.
"Have a seat."
She sat, clutching her folder like a shield. I leaned back in my chair, studying her.
"You know what we do at Imperion?"
Her lips parted, ready. Rehearsed. "Private investment. Strategic acquisitions. Security consulting for elite clients. You're expanding into energy sectors and vertical AI."
Impressive. But that wasn't what I was asking.
"Why do you want to be here?"
There was a pause. A flicker of honesty. And then—words I didn't expect.
"Because I'm tired of scraping by. And because if I'm going to survive in this world, I'd rather do it working for a man who owns it than begging at its feet."
I raised an eyebrow. "And you think I'm that man?"
She met my eyes then. Fully. Boldly.
"I know you are."
Silence fell between us. The air in the room shifted. Heavy. Thick. Laced with something neither of us acknowledged yet.
I stood.
She tensed. Just slightly.
Good. She wasn't foolish enough to be fearless.
I walked around the desk, slowly, deliberately. Her eyes followed every step. I stopped in front of her, only inches away, close enough to see her pupils dilate. Her breathing quicken.
She didn't move away.
I reached for her résumé, brushing her fingers by accident. She flinched—but only for a second.
"You've never worked in a corporate office before," I said flatly.
"No."
"Never been close to power."
She shook her head.
"Never been touched by it."
Her breath caught.
I glanced at her throat—the way it pulsed. At her lips—the way they parted.
"You don't belong here," I said.
"Then why haven't you sent me out?"
I smiled, slow and dangerous. Because she was right.
Something about her intrigued me. Something raw. Untouched. Real. And in my world of polished lies and overpriced illusions, that was rare.
And I was a man who collected rare things.
"Come back tomorrow," I said. "Six a.m. sharp."
"That's it?" she asked, almost breathless.
I stepped closer—just enough so she could feel the heat of me.
"For now."
And when she walked out, I knew two things:
One, she wasn't ready for what was coming.
Two, I was already thinking about how her skin would feel under my hands.