The shrill buzz of Aria Monroe's alarm dragged her out of another restless night.

She stared at the cracked ceiling above her for a moment, willing herself to find a reason to get up. The tiny apartment was quiet except for the hum of the old refrigerator and the distant sounds of traffic already filling the city.

Her phone vibrated.

Final Reminder: Loan Payment Due Today.

Her stomach tightened.

Another notification followed before she could even lock the screen.

Your electricity bill is now overdue.

Aria let out a slow breath and rubbed her temples.

"One problem at a time," she whispered to herself.

She pushed the thoughts aside, slipped into her neatly pressed cream blouse and black pencil skirt, then tied her dark hair into a low ponytail. The clothes weren't new, but they were spotless. If today went well, no one would know she'd spent the last three months stretching every naira she had.

As she reached the front door, a sleepy voice stopped her.

"You're leaving already?"

Her younger brother, Lucas, stood in the hallway, his school bag hanging from one shoulder.

"You should be asleep," Aria said with a smile.

"I couldn't."

He hesitated before speaking again.

"Is this... the big interview?"

She nodded.

Lucas forced a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Then they're the lucky ones."

Aria laughed softly.

"You've been watching too many motivational videos."

"I'm serious."

He stepped forward and straightened the collar of her blouse.

"They'd be stupid not to hire you."

Her chest tightened.

No matter how difficult life became, Lucas always found a way to believe in her.

She gently squeezed his shoulder.

"I'll bring home good news."

"You have to."

"I know."

---

Blackwell Holdings towered above the city like it owned the skyline.

Glass walls reflected the morning sun while luxury cars glided through the entrance one after another. Employees walked in with effortless confidence, their designer suits and polished shoes making Aria suddenly aware of how tightly she was clutching her worn leather folder.

She stopped just outside the revolving doors.

You belong here.

The thought sounded almost convincing.

Inside, the lobby looked more like a five-star hotel than a corporate office. Marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, and a living wall of greenery stretched from floor to ceiling.

A receptionist greeted her with a professional smile.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." Aria returned the smile. "I'm here for an interview."

The receptionist checked the schedule.

"Name?"

"Aria Monroe."

A brief pause.

Then a nod.

"Thirty-second floor."

Aria thanked her and stepped into the elevator alongside several sharply dressed executives.

No one spoke.

The silence somehow felt louder than conversation.

When the elevator doors opened, she found herself standing in a waiting area overlooking the entire city.

Four other candidates were already seated.

One confidently reviewed notes on a tablet.

Another adjusted an expensive watch.

A woman in a navy suit glanced at Aria's folder before looking away with the faintest hint of amusement.

For a split second, doubt crept in.

Maybe she wasn't qualified enough.

Maybe this had been a mistake.

The office doors opened.

A woman with silver-rimmed glasses stepped out.

"Miss Monroe?"

Aria stood so quickly she nearly dropped her folder.

"That's me."

"Follow me."

The woman led her through a corridor lined with framed awards, photographs of international business summits, and magazine covers featuring one name over and over again.

Adrian Blackwell.

Youngest CEO to lead Blackwell Holdings.

Visionary.

Billionaire.

The Man Who Never Lost.

Aria swallowed.

The stories she'd heard painted him as brilliant, demanding... and impossible to impress.

They stopped in front of a pair of tall walnut doors.

The assistant turned to her.

"Mr. Blackwell values punctuality."

"I understand."

"He also values honesty."

Aria nodded.

"And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"If he asks you a question..."

The assistant's expression remained perfectly calm.

"...think carefully before you answer."

Before Aria could ask what she meant, the woman knocked twice.

A deep voice came from inside.

"Come in."

The assistant pushed the doors open.

"Mr. Blackwell," she said. "Your final candidate has arrived."

Aria stepped into the office.

The room was breathtaking—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, shelves of leather-bound books lined one wall, and a sleek black desk dominated the center of the room.

Behind it sat a man in a charcoal suit.

He didn't look up.

Instead, he signed another document with unhurried precision, as though the person standing in front of him wasn't worth a glance.

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes.

Aria resisted the urge to fidget.

Finally, he set down his pen.

His gaze lifted.

Sharp. Calm. Unreadable.

Those dark eyes met hers for the first time, and the silence in the room suddenly felt heavier than words.

Without offering a greeting, he leaned back in his chair.

"So..."

His voice was smooth, controlled, and impossible to ignore.

"Tell me, Miss Monroe."

"What makes you think you're qualified to work for me?"