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Katyana didn’t go to the club to dance.
She went to prove she was fine.
Black dress. Straight posture. A drink she barely touched. The music was loud enough to shake the walls, but she sat still at the bar like she was holding herself together by force.
Her ex’s words kept replaying. You deserve better.
The stool to her right was empty.
The one to her left wasn’t.
He didn’t belong there.
Charcoal suit. White shirt still crisp. Tie slightly loosened but neat. He wasn’t drinking. Just observing the room like it was a board meeting instead of a nightclub.
“You look lost,” she said dryly.
He glanced at her calmly. “I’m not. You are.”
That made her blink.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been staring at your phone for five minutes without unlocking it.”
Her jaw tightened.
Before she could respond, a drunk guy bumped into her hard enough to knock her glass off the counter. It shattered on the floor.
“Relax, sweetheart—” the guy leaned in too close.
Aaron stood.
He didn’t shout. Didn’t touch him.
“Step back,” he said quietly.
The tone was controlled. Final.
The drunk guy hesitated — then stepped back. Security quickly intervened.
Katyana looked at Aaron differently now.
“You didn’t even threaten him.”
“I didn’t need to.”
Her phone lit up.
Her ex. Calling.
Aaron’s eyes flicked to the screen, then to her.
“You don’t owe him access anymore,” he said.
No judgment. No curiosity. Just certainty.
Her thumb hovered.
Decline.
The bass dropped again, but everything around them felt muted.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“My colleague dragged me. He left.” A pause. “You?”
She inhaled slowly. “Breakup.”
“I assumed.”
A sleek black car stopped at the back entrance. A driver stepped out.
“Sir.”
Katyana noticed that.
Aaron adjusted his cuff. “You should go home.”
“That’s it?” she challenged. “No number?”
“No,” he said calmly. “You’re not in the state to decide who deserves it.”
Speechless.
Then he left.
—
Five days later.
Harrington & Hale Law Corporation.
Marble floors. Glass walls. Silence that felt expensive.
Katyana sat in the lobby for her final interview: Executive Secretary to the President Commissioner.
“Mr. Harrington will see you now.”
Harrington.
The office doors opened.
City skyline behind a massive desk.
And standing there —
Aaron.
Her breath caught.
“You—”
“President Commissioner Aaron Harrington,” he finished smoothly. “Please, sit.”
Everything clicked. The car. The “sir.” The composure.
“You knew I applied?”
“I recognized your name.”
“And you still let me come?”
“I wanted to see if you would.”
She steadied herself. “And?”
“You walked in composed,” he said. “The same way you walked out that night.”
Not broken.
Composed.
“This position requires discipline and discretion,” he continued. “You demonstrated both before you knew who I was.”
Silence stretched between them.
“The job is yours,” he said. “If you want it.”
Power didn’t need to be loud. It was standing right in front of her.
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll respect it.”
No pressure. No ego.
Just control.
Katyana lifted her chin slightly. “When do I start, Mr. Harrington?”
A faint, almost invisible smile.
“Monday.”
She went to the club trying to forget someone.
Instead, she walked into a future she never saw coming.