Elena Hart was already late when the elevator stopped working.

Of course it was.

She stared at the numbers above the doors as they remained stubbornly frozen on twelve.

“Come on,” she whispered.

She pressed the button again.

Nothing.

Her phone vibrated in her hand.

8:47 a.m.

Her interview was at nine.

Blackwood Enterprises occupied thirty-two floors of one of the most expensive buildings in the city. Elena had spent forty minutes on a crowded bus, walked six blocks in shoes she immediately regretted buying, and rehearsed her answers so many times that she was beginning to hate the sound of her own voice.

She couldn’t afford to be late.

Not today.

Not when her mother’s rent was overdue.

Not when the final notice from the electricity company was sitting unanswered on their kitchen table.

And definitely not when this job could be the difference between Elena finally getting ahead and falling even further behind.

She exhaled sharply.

“Great.”

The elevator doors opened.

A man stood inside.

He was dressed in a dark suit, one hand holding a phone against his ear. He looked completely unbothered by the fact that the elevator had just trapped him between floors.

His eyes moved toward Elena.

For half a second, neither of them spoke.

Then he glanced at the time on his watch.

“You’re late.”

Elena blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

She stepped inside.

“Good morning to you too.”

The man’s expression didn’t change.

“Interviews start at nine.”

“And I know that because I’m the person being interviewed.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Then you should probably hurry.”

Elena stared at him.

Something about his calmness irritated her immediately.

“Thank you for the advice.”

She turned toward the doors.

He stepped in behind her.

The elevator began moving again.

Silence filled the small space.

Elena could feel him standing behind her, and she hated that she was suddenly conscious of everything—the loose strand of hair near her cheek, the uncomfortable shoes, the folder pressed against her chest.

Then he spoke.

“Marketing?”

She looked over her shoulder.

“How do you know?”

“Your folder.”

She glanced down.

The Blackwood Enterprises logo was printed across the front.

Right.

Of course.

“Yes. Marketing.”

“Experience?”

“Three years.”

“Why leave your current company?”

Elena frowned.

“Is this part of the interview?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not answering.”

For the first time, something resembling amusement appeared in his eyes.

The elevator doors opened.

Elena stepped out quickly.

“Good luck,” he said.

She turned around.

He was still inside.

“Thanks.”

The doors closed.

Elena stood there for a moment.

Then she shook her head.

“Who does he think he is?”

She had no idea that she had just spoken to Adrian Blackwood.

The man whose name appeared on every floor of the building.

The man whose photograph was regularly featured in business magazines.

The man who owned Blackwood Enterprises.

And, unfortunately, the man who would soon become her boss.

⸻

The interview room was colder than necessary.

Elena sat opposite two women from the human resources department and tried not to fidget.

“You have strong experience,” one of them said, looking through her résumé. “But your previous company was considerably smaller than ours.”

“I know.”

“So why do you think you’re ready for this position?”

Elena swallowed.

Because I need the money wasn’t exactly the answer they wanted.

“I’ve learned how to work without having everything handed to me,” she said. “At my previous company, I wasn’t just responsible for one part of a campaign. I had to understand the client, solve problems quickly, work with limited resources, and make decisions when nobody else was available.”

The woman looked up.

“And pressure doesn’t bother you?”

“It bothers me.”

The woman smiled.

Elena continued.

“But I don’t let it decide what I do.”

For the first time, both interviewers seemed interested.

The questions continued.

Her experience.

Her strengths.

Her weaknesses.

Her salary expectations.

Why Blackwood.

Where she saw herself in five years.

Elena answered everything carefully.

When the interview finally ended, she walked out feeling as though she had just completed an exam she couldn’t afford to fail.

She reached the lobby and checked her phone.

Three missed calls.

Her mother’s name.

Elena immediately called back.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

“How did it go?”

“I think okay.”

“You think?”

Elena smiled despite herself.

“I’m trying not to get excited.”

There was a pause.

“Your landlord came again.”

The smile disappeared.

“What did he say?”

“He said we have until Friday.”

Elena closed her eyes.

Today was Tuesday.

“Okay.”

“Elena—”

“I’ll handle it.”

“You don’t have to handle everything.”

“I know.”

But she did.

Because someone had to.

She ended the call and slipped the phone into her bag.

“Ms. Hart?”

She turned.

A young man in a black suit stood behind her.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Blackwood would like to see you.”

Elena frowned.

“Mr. Blackwood?”

“Yes.”

Her stomach tightened.

“Why?”

“I wasn’t told.”

She almost laughed.

“That’s reassuring.”

The man didn’t react.

“This way.”

⸻

The executive floor was nothing like the rest of the building.

Everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

The walls were glass. The furniture was dark and expensive. Even the air smelled expensive.

Elena followed the assistant toward a large office overlooking the city.

He knocked once.

“Come in.”

That voice.

Elena stopped.

The assistant opened the door.

And there he was.

The man from the elevator.

Adrian Blackwood sat behind a large desk, reading something on his tablet.

He looked up.

Recognition flashed across his face.

“Elena Hart.”

She stared at him.

“You’re Mr. Blackwood.”

“Yes.”

She looked toward the assistant.

He was already leaving.

The door closed.

Elena turned back.

Adrian gestured toward the chair.

“Sit.”

She sat.

He placed the tablet down.

“I reviewed your interview.”

“You were there?”

“No.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because I read your résumé.”

Elena waited.

Adrian leaned back.

“You’ve been recommended for the position.”

Relief began to rise in her chest.

Then he continued.

“But I have a problem.”

The relief disappeared.

“What problem?”

“You’re overqualified for the position you applied for.”

Elena stared at him.

“That sounds like a good problem.”

“It isn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because people who are overqualified usually leave when something better comes along.”

Elena folded her hands in her lap.

“Maybe I don’t want something better.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Everyone wants something better.”

“Not everyone wants the same thing.”

Silence.

For some reason, she felt as though she were being tested.

Adrian picked up her résumé.

“You’ve changed companies three times in four years.”

“Because I wanted to grow.”

“And now?”

“Now I want stability.”

Something shifted in his expression.

It was subtle.

Almost impossible to notice.

But Elena noticed.

“Why?” he asked.

She hesitated.

Because my family needs me.

Because we’re drowning.

Because I’m tired of pretending everything is fine.

Instead, she said:

“Because I’m tired of starting over.”

Adrian studied her for several seconds.

Then he closed the résumé.

“You start Monday.”

Elena froze.

“What?”

“You’re hired.”

Her heart jumped.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She stood too quickly.

“Thank you.”

Adrian’s expression remained unreadable.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Elena paused.

He looked directly at her.

“I’m difficult to work for.”

She gave him a small smile.

“I noticed.”

For the first time, Adrian looked genuinely surprised.

Elena turned toward the door.

Her hand had barely reached the handle when his voice stopped her.

“Ms. Hart.”

She looked back.

“Yes?”

“Welcome to Blackwood Enterprises.”

Elena nodded.

“Thank you.”

She walked out.

The door closed behind her.

Adrian remained still.

His assistant entered a few seconds later.

“You hired her?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never interviewed someone personally for that position.”

“I didn’t interview her.”

His assistant looked confused.

“Then what did you do?”

Adrian glanced toward the closed door.

“I tested her.”

“And?”

A faint smile appeared.

“She didn’t know she was being tested.”

⸻

Downstairs, Elena stepped into the lobby and released the breath she’d been holding.

She had the job.

She actually had the job.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from her mother.

Any news?

Elena smiled as she typed.

I got it.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Then:

I’m proud of you.

For the first time that morning, Elena allowed herself to smile.

She had no idea that getting the job at Blackwood Enterprises would be the easiest part of what was coming.

Because upstairs, Adrian Blackwood was staring at her résumé again.

And beside her employment history was a file he had not mentioned during their conversation.

A file containing a name Elena had never heard before.

Her own.

Adrian’s expression hardened.

“Interesting.”

Then he made a phone call.

“Find out everything about Elena Hart.”

He paused.

“And I mean everything.”