Lucian Ashford’s penthouse-level office was silent except for the faint hum of the city far below and the soft rustle of paper as he flipped through a stack of files. The late evening light cast long, cold shadows across the glass walls, framing him in a muted halo of silver and blue. He worked with his usual precision: page, note, signature, next. That was until one document refused to blend into the rest.

A resume. He paused, brows narrowing ever so slightly.

He recognized it after a moment: the candidate he’d interviewed briefly, then set aside during a chaotic week of partners breathing down his neck. Apparently, he’d signed the approval anyway. He exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh—he didn’t waste energy on those—but something close.

Right. The firm’s newest executive assistant, assigned directly to him. His workload had gotten… untenable, according to the board. Someone had decided he needed help. Lucian wasn’t sure whether to consider the hire a necessary concession or an unwelcome intrusion.

Probably the latter.

With a small flick of his fingers, he set the resume at the corner of his desk. It could wait. Everything could wait. He returned to the file in front of him, his expression settling back into its familiar, unreadable calm as he continued reviewing deposition records.

Minutes passed. The steady rhythm of his concentration rebuilt itself—until a sharp, unexpected knock cut through the quiet.

Lucian’s jaw tightened, a subtle flex of irritation. Visitors were not scheduled for this hour.

“…Come in,” he said, voice low, clipped, and far from welcoming.

His eyes lifted from the paperwork at last, settling on the person entering his office—you.