CHAPTER THREE — THE FIRST WARNING
847 Words
Elena spent the rest of the morning drowning in paperwork, phone calls, and emails she didn’t fully understand. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart leapt—terrified it might be Alessandro.
It wasn’t.
But the silence from him was almost worse.
By noon, she had memorized his schedule, color-coded his calendar, and reorganized his desk—very, very carefully, afraid he might not like it. She barely touched anything that looked expensive. Or dangerous.
Everything of his looked like both.
She was typing an email when the elevator dinged. Heavy footsteps approached. She looked up—and froze.
A man stepped into the office.
Tall. Broad. Muscular. Tattoos running up his neck and peeking from under his collar. He wore a dark suit, but unlike Alessandro’s sharp elegance, this man looked like he could kill someone with his bare hands and not wrinkle the fabric.
He stopped in front of her desk and stared.
“You must be the new girl,” he said, voice deep, slightly amused.
Elena’s throat turned dry. “Y-Yes. I’m Elena.”
He chuckled. “Relax. I don’t bite.”
Then, leaning in, “Much.”
Her eyes widened.
He grinned. “I’m Matteo. Alessandro’s second-in-command.”
Second… in command?
Her stomach dropped.
So he was part of something dangerous. And so was Alessandro.
Matteo scanned the office. “Boss isn’t here?”
“No. He said he had… matters to handle.”
“That means trouble.” Matteo sighed, shaking his head. “He’ll come back pissed.”
Great. Just what she needed.
Matteo turned to her again, his gaze more serious now. “Let me give you some advice.”
She nodded quickly.
“Don’t wander around this floor. Don’t ask questions. And if the boss tells you to leave a room… you leave. Immediately.”
“What—why?” she whispered.
“Because the things you’ll see here?” He shrugged. “They’re not meant for civilians.”
Her skin prickled with cold.
“Civilians?” she echoed.
Matteo smiled softly, almost pitying. “Sweetheart, you have no idea where you’re working.”
Before Elena could answer, the doors slammed open.
Alessandro walked in.
His suit jacket was unbuttoned, sleeves slightly rolled up, hair a bit undone—yet somehow he looked more powerful, more dangerous. His expression was stone.
Matteo straightened immediately. “Boss.”
“Is it done?” Alessandro asked, voice cold.
“Handled.”
Alessandro nodded once, then turned his gaze on Elena.
Her breath hitched.
His eyes moved over her face, her posture, her hands—taking in everything. She felt exposed under that gaze.
“Follow me,” he said.
Elena blinked. “M-Me?”
“Yes, you. Now.”
She hurried after him into his office. He shut the door behind her, the sound echoing through the room.
He walked to his desk, leaned on the edge, and crossed his arms. “Tell me, Elena. Has anyone spoken to you this morning?”
Her heart lurched. “Yes… Matteo.”
His jaw tightened.
“What did he tell you?”
“Just… just advice for work,” she said quickly.
Alessandro took a step toward her.
“One rule,” he said softly, dangerously. “You don’t listen to anyone’s version of this world but mine. Understand?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
His eyes darkened. “Good. Because other people’s words can get you killed.”
Her breath caught.
“Killed?” she whispered.
He stepped closer again, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body.
“You heard something you shouldn’t have yesterday,” he said. “And again today.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.” His voice softened just slightly. “That’s why you’re still alive.”
Her blood ran cold.
He reached out slowly, and she flinched.
But he only took a loose strand of her hair that had fallen into her face.
“You need to be more careful,” he murmured.
Her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe.
“I’m trying,” she whispered.
He let the strand of hair fall. His voice dropped to a tone she didn’t know he possessed—low, almost protective.
“I don’t want anything happening to you.”
Before she could process his words, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and all softness vanished from his face.
He walked past her, heading for the door.
“Elena.”
She turned to him. “Yes?”
“Clear my next hour,” he said. “And if anyone comes asking for me…”
He paused.
“…you never saw me.”
And then he disappeared, leaving Elena alone with a truth she could feel in her bones:
She wasn’t working for a billionaire.
She was working for a man who ruled the dark side of the city.
A man whose enemies would kill to get to him.
A man she was falling for, even though every instinct screamed to run.
- Writer
