I knew I was in trouble the moment the elevator doors opened.
Not because anyone stopped me. Not because anyone threatened me. Because everything beyond those polished steel doors screamed power.
A woman behind a sleek black desk glanced up. "Miss Carter?" I nodded. "Mr. Vaughan is expecting you."
Of course he was.
The words sent another wave of nausea through me. Everyone in the city knew the name Tristan Vaughan. Billionaire. Investor. Corporate predator. Connections to the Underworld. Depending on who you asked, he was either a genius or a monster. Neither description made me feel better.
The receptionist gestured toward a set of double doors. "Please go in." I swallowed. Then stepped forward. The doors opened with barely a sound. The office beyond was enormous.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire city. Dark furniture. Minimal decoration. The kind of room designed by someone who didn't need to prove he was wealthy because everyone already knew.
And standing near the windows was Tristan Vaughan.
For a second, I forgot why I was there. He was younger than I'd expected. Broad shoulders. Dark suit. Dark hair.
He wasn't looking at me. Instead, he was staring out over the city with one hand in his pocket. The silence stretched until I thought he hadn't noticed me.
Finally, he turned. And those eyes found mine. He had that gaze. The kind of gaze that made me feel like every secret I'd ever had was suddenly visible. I hated that my breath caught.
"Sit." No hello. No introduction, just a command. Yeah, I hated him already.
The leather chair felt far too soft beneath me as Tristan remained standing, watching and suddenly I felt like prey. "Your brother owes me three million dollars." Straight to the point. A painful lump formed in my throat. "He's trying to pay it back."
"No." His voice was calm. Almost bored. "He was trying." I flinched. The distinction wasn't lost on me. My brother disappeared three days ago. Which was exactly why I was sitting in front of one of the most powerful men in the city.
He walked toward the desk slowly, deliberately each step making my pulse beat harder. When he reached the chair opposite me, he sat while still watching. "I have a proposal." My stomach dropped. Of course he did.
Men like Tristan Vaughan never invited desperate women into their offices out of kindness. "What kind of proposal?" His fingers tapped once against the armrest. "If your brother does not return," he said, "the debt becomes yours." My heart nearly stopped. "That's not legal." I blurted out. One dark eyebrow lifted. "Neither was how he acquired the money." Fair point and I hated that it was.
He slid a document across the table.
It stopped directly in front of me. I looked down then blinked at it. Personal Assistant Contract. Housing Included. Live-In Position. Confidentiality Agreement. What the hell? I frowned. "What is this?"
"A solution." He said flatly. I looked back up, his gaze never leaving mine. "You work for me."
I stared. "You're serious." I said, a slight tone in my voice like he was crazy which he probably was. "Entirely." He replied smoothly. I flipped through the pages. The salary alone was ridiculous. None of it made sense.
Tristan smiled, actually smiled like some fucking psycho, before returning to the table. "Your brother's debt disappears." My pulse jumped. "You work exclusively for me." I said nothing. "You live at the Vaughan estate." My stomach dropped, but I remembered that I didn't exactly have a lot of options to compain.
Minutes passed. Then I reached for the pen. The movement was small but his eyes followed it instantly and something dark flashed across his face. Gone so quickly I almost imagined it. Satisfaction. Damn him. I signed my name. The ink looked permanent, final, like a trap snapping shut. When I finished, Tristan took the contract and closed the folder.
"You move in tomorrow." He said as I stood. "That's it?" I asked hesitantly. "That's it." He said, like it was obvious. I should have felt relieved. Instead, unease settled deep in my chest. God help me.