Her ID badge still smelled of new plastic. Temporary Assistant – Research & PR.
Zara clipped it onto her blazer and stepped off the elevator into the heart of ValeCorp's twenty-second floor. Polished white floors. Minimalist desks. Expensive silence. She looked like she belonged—just enough to stay invisible.
"Your desk is here," said Lila, a junior assistant with a fake accent and real attitude. "You'll mostly be handling filing, calendar updates, and coffee runs."
"Got it," Zara said with a polite smile. She sat down and immediately began assessing.
Every screen she passed, every conversation she overheard—everything was data.
Names. Departments. Patterns.
It wasn't just a job. It was reconnaissance.
By noon, she'd memorized two floor plans and mapped five possible weak links.
At 1:14 PM, she saw him.
Ethan Blackwell.
She froze for half a second. Only half.
He was taller now. Still had that smug, golden-boy look. Her ex-fiancé. The man who'd left her during the scandal, then testified against her father in court. His betrayal had been the final blade.
He strolled into the glass conference room like he owned the place. Technically, he almost did—now head of Acquisitions.
He didn't notice her.
Of course he wouldn't.
He'd buried Zara Raine years ago.
But her hands tightened around the coffee tray she carried, knuckles white.
Not today. Not yet. But soon.
Back at her desk, she slipped on her earpiece and opened a shared drive she'd "accidentally" been added to by Lila's lazy admin mistake.
Inside: internal memos, scheduling logs… and one folder labeled "M&A-PRIVATE."
Password-protected, but not encrypted.
Child's play.
She inserted the flash drive tucked in her blazer pocket—a silent little thing with no name and a hidden purpose.
Within seconds, she copied key meeting logs and contact lists—just enough to start understanding the structure. Just enough to open cracks.
Her first cut.
She was about to log off when a shadow passed her desk. She looked up.
Lucien Vale.
Sharp suit. Untouchable energy. And this time… he was looking at her.
His gaze lingered a second too long.
"New?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Zara Winters," she replied, standing quickly. Her voice was even.
He didn't respond right away. His eyes moved—first to her ID badge, then to the screen she was minimizing, then to her face.
Not recognition. Not yet. But curiosity.
"Well, Ms. Winters. Welcome," he said quietly. "ValeCorp only keeps the useful ones. Hope you're planning to be… useful."
A slow smile touched his lips. And then he walked on.
Her heart didn't flutter. It burned.
Not because he was handsome.
Because he was dangerous.
And he was starting to see her.