Chapter 3 VHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

The First Day

Aria Hartwell.

I was boiling with anger as I dressed up on Monday for work.

How dare he say that nonsense to my face?

I arrived at Hartwell Industries at six-thirty in the morning, a full hour before Cassian's usual start time. The executive floor was empty, silent except for the hum of air conditioning and the distant sound of cleaning staff in the lower levels.

My small victory felt petty but satisfying as I unlocked my new office. The space was smaller than I expected, but the view was spectacular— floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. I had never been to the upper levels of this company, and I could say the view was impressive. My desk was already equipped with a computer, phone, and a stack of files which I'm sure Cassian ordered to be put there.

I shed my coat and got to work immediately. By the time Cassian arrived at seven-thirty, I was already able to identify three problems with the Chicago property acquisition he was pursuing. How terrible! And I'm sure he prided himself with being smart and being the best head in this division. How pathetic! The issue alone could cost millions if not addressed immediately, and I wished today was the day where we'd have a board meeting so I'd embarrass him for being mediocre and careless. I'm sure it would even boost some people's egos in the boardroom. I had notes spread across my desk, multiple browser tabs open, and a growing sense of vindication.

Let him underestimate me. Let everyone underestimate me.

I heard his footsteps in the hallway, that distinctive confident stride that made my pulse quicken despite my best efforts. My newfound sense of vindication and hatred came from the fact that he didn't know it was me a week ago, under his sheets with him. He paused outside my door and I didn't look up from my laptop, even when I felt his presence like a physical weight.

"You're here early." His voice was cold as he pushed the door open and took quick steps until he was in front of my desk.

"I work here now." I continued typing. "Or did you forget the terms of the will?"

Silence ensued between both of us, and I had no choice but to acknowledge him. He looked unfairly good in a charcoal suit that fit him like a second skin, his dark hair still slightly damp from a shower. The memory of running my fingers through that hair made heat crawl up my spine.

I stood, using the desk as a barrier between us and folded my hands across my chest. "The Chicago deal has problems and I intend to let the board know how you almost signed off on a deal that would lead this company to losing millions of dollars.."

His eyebrows rose slightly, maybe surprised that I was talking about work, or that it was just my first day and I bested him. "I'm listening."

I walked him through my findings, citing specific zoning codes and recent precedents. With each point, I watched his expression shift from skepticism to surprise to something that looked almost like respect.

"That's good," he said finally. "How did you..."

"I have a business degree from NYU, sir. With honors." I met his eyes directly. "I've also been working in this company's philanthropic division for three years. But you never bothered to ask, did you?"

Something flickered across his face. "No. I didn't. Why should I bother? Are you special?"

I almost died on the spot with anger coursing through my veins at the smug look on his face.

"Well, I wonder what the board would say..." I arranged the files on my desk and continued. "You assumed I was vapid. A trust-fund princess wasting my father's money on parties and shopping." My voice was sharp with old hurt. "You've made that very clear over the years."

The corners of his mouth lifted into an amused smile and he shook his head. "It is surprising that you could actually spot the mistake in that file, but what is more amusing to me is the fact that you didn't read the top of the file which says that it is meant for the trash." He leaned in closer to me, and I almost stumbled backwards, "It was already worked on, the mistake was already found, and underneath the files you've been working on for almost two hours were the corrected versions. You only needed to sign those ones off and send them to the assistant."

"What?" My eyes went back to the files I had spent so much time working on, and I found out that he was right.

"I'm wondering whether that degree was useful or not, or maybe you should have taken comprehension classes. But I'm still impressed you found that out, which means I can trust you with some works that require analytical thinking."

"You!" I pointed a finger at him, and all the despicable words in my mind that I had for him refused to come out.

"Me what?" He taunted, and I hated how attractive his lips were when they were curved like that. "Act more maturely, you're way past your teenage years of throwing tantrums because I was just making a suggestion."

It took everything in me to be the bigger person in this case and let everything slide because instead of me to be extremely angry, I was getting attracted to his morning look.

"Well, thank you for your insight. We're colleagues now, and no longer the kids who used to argue over nothing important. Let's keep this professional."

"Professional." His lips twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Yes." But my voice wavered slightly, betraying me. "Not calling, but it is what it is."

He moved closer, circling the desk with predatory grace. I should have stepped back and maintained some distance between us, but my feet refused to cooperate. Within seconds, he was close enough that I could smell his cologne. I could even see the silver flecks in his grey eyes.

"You want to pretend that night never happened," he said softly, dangerously.

"What night?" I almost died. Did he remember? Did he go back to find out? I thought he didn't remember. I thought...

His mouth twitched upwards as if my words amused him, and he took another step forward. I backed up instinctively and hit the wall behind my desk.

"If there was 'no night', then tell me why your heart is racing right now." His hand came up to rest against the wall beside my head, caging me in. "Tell me why you're breathing faster. Tell me why you can't quite meet my eyes."

"You're imagining things." But my voice was barely a whisper.

"Am I?" His free hand lifted, hovering inches from my face. Not touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin. "Tell me to back away, and I will. Tell me you feel nothing, and we'll never speak of this again."

I wanted to, but the words stuck in my throat because I knew I would be lying to myself, and my treacherous body swayed toward him.

"That's what I thought." His voice was rough with satisfaction.

"B...but... you said... you said you didn't remember..." My voice was coming back out in gasps.

"I didn't. You made me to." His hands had gone to my waist now, and I felt the heat of his hands on that spot. It burned. I let out a gasp when his intense grey eyes held mine, and his other hand reached out to trace my bottom lips.

"What... what are you doing?" I was still whispering, but his gaze had turned unfocused as they lowered to my lips. And my heart began to anticipate...

The door to the outer office opened with a sharp click, and we quickly sprang apart like guilty teenagers as Margaret, our new shared assistant, walked in carrying coffee and looking supremely unbothered by the tension thick enough to choke on. I mean, I sprang apart. Cassian's way was more calm and deliberate, like he wasn't doing anything wrong. And I hated him for that.

"Good morning, Mr. Kent, Miss Hartwell. The board meeting is in thirty minutes." She set down the coffee cups with careful precision. "I've prepared the quarterly reports you requested."

"Thank you, Margaret." Cassian's voice was perfectly controlled, showing none of the heat that had been there moments before.

She left, closing the door behind her with a soft snick, and Cassian followed behind her. He turned and gave me one last look before closing the door.

A look that told me that this one year was going to be the longest year of my life.