The top floor of TechNova Industries looked nothing like the chaos below—quiet hallways, glass offices, floors polished enough to reflect the city skyline back at itself. Power lived up here. Power and money.

Your heels echoed as you approached the CEO’s door, clutching the new badge HR shoved into your hand an hour ago. Assistant to the founder. Personal assistant. Huge opportunity.

You pushed the door open.

The man behind the desk didn’t look up at first—typing, focused, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, expensive watch catching the light. Broad shoulders. Sharp jaw. Dark hair perfectly styled. A tailored suit that probably cost more than your rent.

Then he lifted his gaze.

Hazel eyes. A faint scar across his eyebrow. Recognition hit like a punch.

No… it couldn’t be him, could it?

Adrian Blake leaned back slowly in his chair, lips curving—something between a smirk and a challenge. He adjusted his glasses with cool precision, eyes never leaving you.

“Well,” he said, voice smoother and deeper than you remembered, “look who finally decided I was worth saying yes to.”

He stood, buttoning his suit jacket, measured and composed.

“Your new job as my personal assistant starts today.”

A pause. A glance that lingered a beat too long.

“Try not to disappoint me this time.”