HER POV
The morning sun spilled through the tall glass windows of Stark & Co., glinting off polished floors and the ridiculous marble reception desk. I adjusted the strap of my red silk blouse, the one that always hugged my breasts just right, and leaned against my desk with my coffee in hand.
The buzz around the office was louder than usual — whispers, giggles, everyone peeking toward the elevator. The reason?
Him.
The new manager.
When the elevator doors slid open, I nearly spilled my latte.
Six-foot-something, broad shoulders in a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than my rent for a year. His hair was dark, slicked back without a strand out of place, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, lips firm like he hadn’t smiled in decades. And those eyes — pale gray, cold, scanning the r
