Aria

couldn’t focus the entire evening.
My hands moved on autopilot—cleaning the counter, stacking cups—but my mind kept drifting back to him. The way he spoke. The way his eyes held mine for a second longer than normal. It wasn’t fear exactly… more like a strange pull that made my chest feel tight.
“Aria, come on,” my colleague called, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Let’s go home. You’ll burn your brain at this rate.”
I forced a smile, nodded, and followed her out—but even then, the feeling didn’t leave.
The next morning, everything changed.
My manager called me into her cabin, her tone unusually formal.
“You need to submit your report today,” she said.
I nodded. “To the head department?”
She paused. “No. Directly to the CEO.”
My stomach dropped.
That didn’t make sense. The CEO never looked at employee reports. Everyone knew that. He barely showed his presence at all. Something about this felt… off. But I nodded anyway, my heart already racing.
His floor was nothing like the rest of the building.
Restricted access. Silent corridors. Polished black marble that reflected the ceiling lights like water. At the far end was a massive boardroom, and beside it—his office. Dark, imposing, elegant. A receptionist sat outside, perfectly composed.
I clutched the file tighter.
While waiting, I caught fragments of a conversation—his secretary speaking to someone about me. I couldn’t hear clearly. Before I could process it, he looked up, noticed me, and smiled.
“Sir is waiting for you,” he said politely.
My breath hitched. I nodded, smiling back even though my hands were trembling.
I knocked softly.
“Come in.”
The office took my breath away.
It was dark yet warm, luxurious but restrained. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A bookshelf filled with rare volumes. The scent—espresso, leather, something deeper—wrapped around me instantly.
And then I saw him.
For a second, I forgot how to speak.
He stood near his desk, tall, composed, impossibly calm. On the bookshelf behind him was a small decorative piece shaped like a bow. My eyes lingered on it for reasons I couldn’t explain.
I swallowed. “Sir… you called me?” My voice shook despite my effort. “My report?”
He hummed softly, turning fully toward me.
The way his grey eyes narrowed—not cold, but curious—made my pulse spike. He walked closer, slow, deliberate. Not invading, but close enough that I felt seen.
“How are you?” he asked, quietly.
I froze.
Everyone knew he never spoke like that. Never smiled. Never softened. I had researched him for years—no relationships, no scandals, no warmth. Powerful, distant, untouchable.
And yet… here he was.
“I—I’m fine,” I managed, handing him the report.
He didn’t even look at it.
Minutes passed. Real minutes. His gaze stayed on me, as if the paper didn’t exist. My throat went dry. I coughed lightly, nerves getting the better of me.
Only then did he look away.
“Sit,” he said calmly.
I obeyed instantly.
He leaned against the desk, studying me again.
“Are you new to this company?”
The question seemed simple—but something about his tone told me it wasn’t.
And for the first time since entering his empire, I realized this wasn’t just a report submission.
This was the beginning of something I didn’t understand…
and couldn’t escape.The question lingered in the air longer than it should have.
“Are you new to this company?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. A few months.”
My fingers twisted together in my lap, betraying my nervousness. I hated that he could probably see it. I hated even more that he didn’t look away.
“Hm.”
Just that. One sound. Yet it made my spine straighten.
He walked around his desk, unhurried, picked up the report at last—then placed it back down without opening it. His attention returned to me, full and heavy, as if I were the only thing in the room worth examining.
“You seem… different,” he said. Not a compliment. Not an accusation. Just an observation.
I blinked. “Different?” I repeated softly.
“Most people are afraid when they enter this office,” he continued. “You’re nervous—but not afraid.”
I didn’t know how to answer that. I was scared. But there was also curiosity, something I didn’t want to admit even to myself.
“I respect rules,” I said carefully. “And spaces like this.”
His lips curved slightly. Not quite a smile. Something quieter. More dangerous.
“Respect,” he murmured. “That’s rare.”
Silence fell again. My heart beat so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I noticed details without meaning to—the faint scar near his knuckle, the way his sleeves were rolled just enough to show strength, control. Everything about him felt deliberate.
“You researched this company before joining,” he said suddenly.
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “I like to be prepared.”
His eyes sharpened. “And me?”
The word hit me like a shock.
I hesitated a second too long. “Everyone knows about you, sir.”
“Only what I allow,” he replied calmly.
My throat tightened. Had I said too much? Too little?
He straightened, moving back behind the desk, creating distance that somehow made the tension worse.
“You can go,” he said.
I looked up, startled. “That’s… all?”
“For now.”
I stood, smoothing my clothes, forcing my legs to work. “Thank you, sir.”
As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
“Aria.”
My name on his lips felt wrong. Too intimate. I turned back slowly.
“Yes?”
His gaze locked onto mine again, intense, unreadable.
“Be careful,” he said softly. “This place changes people.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and left the office.
The moment the door closed behind me, my knees felt weak.
I didn’t understand what had just happened. Why me? Why that attention? Why did his eyes feel like they could see through layers I didn’t even know existed?
As the elevator doors slid shut, one thought echoed relentlessly in my mind:
Nothing about this meeting was normal.
And somehow… I knew this wouldn’t be the last time he called me into that office. is he suspicious