Empire of Desire

Power has a sound. It’s the low hum of tinted glass doors sliding open as if the world itself bows for whoever’s walking through. And today, that sound was followed by the man everyone in Blackstone Corporation called “The King of Cold”. Nathan Blackstone. He moved like the room belonged to him — which it did, technically. Even if it weren’t his, he would’ve still claimed the room regardless. His aura was intimidating, the one that makes you want to lower your voice, and question your worth. I finally understood why he was feared by so many people the first time I saw him. It wasn't about his net worth or the expensive suits that he wore to the office or even about the fact that he could easily end your career with just a sentence. It was his silence. He would blatantly stare at you— like he could see beyond your appearance, like you're hiding something. And I stared at him, trying to analyze the man who is deeply feared by people. I shouldn't have done that. But I did it regardless. It was Monday morning, and I was sleep-deprived. My eye bags were visible enough to tell. I was barely surviving on coffee and a prayer. My ex had called the night before with the same threat of ruining my life. I wish I could dig a hole and bury the thoughts that unravelled. But I couldn’t afford to show that I was weak. Not in the office nor in front of my boss. I headed into the conference room. Pretending to be energized, I put up a stern look. The room smelled of fresh ink and a wood-like cologne. He was already seated, leaning back in his chair, a pen balanced between his fingers— tapping on the table. As if he had been waiting for me. “Miss Cole,” he said, like he was summoning me. “You’re late.” “I’m not,” I answered softly. “You’re early.” His brows lifted — the smallest flicker of surprise — and I caught it. That rare, dangerous thing: his curiosity. Nathan didn’t like to be challenged. He liked control, accuracy, and submission wrapped in politeness. And yet, something about me seemed to make him pause. Maybe it was because I didn’t bow the way others did. Maybe it was because I’d already survived my toxic relationship. Whatever it was, I saw it in his eyes that day. The man who had everything you could think of decided he wanted me, too. The meeting went on for an hour. I took notes, answered questions, and dodged his gaze. But every time I gave an opinion on something, I felt his gaze on me — he was so fixated on what I had to say. The meeting was finally over, and people left the room quickly— as if they were being chased by a lion. “Stay.” He said. Just one word, low and deliberate. Everyone froze, then kept moving, pretending not to listen. When they all left the room. It was just us. It was filled with silence. The kind of silence that made me hear my heartbeat racing. He stood, slowly. “Where did you learn to talk back to your boss like that?” His tone was smooth, almost surprised. “Where did you learn to treat people like they’re disposable?” I replied before I could stop myself. A mistake. A satisfaction. Both. For a moment, he said nothing. Then his mouth curved — not quite a smile, more like a smirk. “You’ve got a dangerous mouth, Miss Cole.” “Better than having no soul, Mr. Blackstone.” He laughed then — quiet, soft. I was surprised. Hearing this sound come out from the ruthless man everyone portrayed him to be. “Go back to work,” he murmured finally. “Before I forget I like that about you.” I left the room— I had a lot of mixed feelings because I had just talked back to my boss. I wanted to know him more— more than just seeing him in his expensive suits or working on some documents in his office. What is this feeling? Curiosity maybe. Because I had sensed something in him, behind the wall he had built. Behind his cruelty. Loneliness. And that made me want to know him better. But how can I? I'm only his employee. I tell myself. Later that night, I just lay in bed thinking about him— the scenario that occurred at the office. The way my response made him feel. Did he feel challenged? The thoughts just kept coming in. Maybe it's just fascination. Just a reaction to the way he challenged me. It wasn't that deep. I told myself. But I knew it was. Now that I have his attention, it was the beginning of something risky. And on the other hand was Jordan, what does he want from me now? Hasn't he done enough? Can I handle what's to come? I asked myself, allowing nature to take its course on me in bed.