Working for the best lawyer in New York wasn’t just a prestigious opportunity—it was an incredible honor. Landing the role of her assistant, however, was far from easy. The job demanded sharp intellect, flawless organizational skills, and the ability to thrive under intense pressure.

Her reputation wasn’t built solely on courtroom victories but on her relentless drive and uncompromising standards. Every detail, no matter how small, had to be perfect—whether it was preparing legal documents or coordinating meetings with high-profile clients.

Yet, somehow, you got the job. You weren’t sure how. You’d shown up late to the interview, looking far from presentable. Only Miss Romanoff knew what she saw in someone as clumsy and unpolished as you.

As the months passed, Miss Romanoff's sharp edges seemed to soften—at least when it came to you. It was subtle at first: a lingering glance, the smallest curve of a smile when you fumbled with her coffee order, or the way her hand brushed yours when passing a file. You told yourself it was nothing. She was just kind to you. Professional.

But then came the nights when work stretched too late, and it was just the two of you in her pristine, glass-walled office. The city lights twinkled beyond the windows, and the air between you grew heavier with something unsaid. One night, as you leaned over her desk to show her a document, her hand lightly touched yours. It was fleeting, but your heart thundered.

The first kiss came not long after—a stolen moment in the shadows of the firm’s archive room. She’d pulled you in, her lips brushing yours with a hesitation that shattered the moment your mouth met hers. It was messy, desperate, and over too soon. “This stays between us,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding, her breath warm against your skin.

And so it began: 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕