Seducing the enemy

A game of control

The boardroom was all glass and power—polished surfaces reflecting the city skyline, every detail designed to remind anyone who entered exactly who they were dealing with. The Alcasters didn’t just build companies. They built legacies.

And yet, as I sat at the far end of the table, dutifully taking notes while Ethan led the board meeting with calm authority, I couldn’t stop noticing the cracks.

Not in the company—that part of the empire was as impenetrable as ever—but in Ethan himself.

He was confident, no doubt about it. Sharp, direct, never wasting a word. The board members leaned forward when he spoke, hanging on every carefully calculated statement. But there were moments, fleeting and subtle, when his mask slipped. A tightness around his jaw. A flicker of impatience when someone questioned him. He was good—brilliant, even—but I could see the weight he carried. He was young for this role, and no matter how composed he appeared, he wasn’t immune to the pressure.

I filed the observation away, another piece of the puzzle I was trying to solve.

When the meeting ended, the board members filed out one by one, leaving me alone with Ethan.

“Miss D’Angelo,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “A moment?”

I glanced up from my tablet, keeping my expression neutral. “Of course.”

He gestured for me to follow him, and I did, trailing behind as he led me into his office. He didn’t sit behind his desk this time. Instead, he moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows, his silhouette framed against the skyline.

“I want your opinion,” he said, turning to face me.

I blinked, caught off guard. “My opinion?”

“Yes.” His gray eyes locked onto mine, steady and unrelenting. “You’ve been here for a few weeks now. You’ve seen how things work. What do you think of the company?”

I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. I couldn’t afford to reveal too much, but I also couldn’t risk looking unprepared.

“It’s efficient,” I said finally. “The processes are streamlined, and the decision-making is… deliberate. It’s clear that the company values precision.”

His lips twitched into a faint smile, and he took a step closer. “A very diplomatic answer.”

I straightened my shoulders, refusing to let him unsettle me. “Is that not what you wanted?”

“No,” he said, his voice lower now, his tone laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “I want honesty. You strike me as someone who doesn’t sugarcoat things.”

I met his gaze, my pulse steady despite the heat of his stare. “You don’t need me to tell you what’s wrong with this company. You already know.”

For a moment, the air between us seemed to freeze. His expression shifted, his confidence faltering just slightly before he caught himself.

“You’re a lot sharper than most people give you credit for, aren’t you?” he said, stepping closer still.

The distance between us was closing, but I refused to back down. If he thought he could unnerve me with his presence, he was wrong.

“I like to think so,” I said, keeping my voice calm.

His smile deepened, and this time, it wasn’t as practiced. There was something real in it, something that made my chest tighten despite myself.

“You know,” he said softly, “most people in your position would’ve said exactly what they thought I wanted to hear. But not you. You don’t play by the same rules, do you?”

“I didn’t think you hired me to play by the rules,” I replied, tilting my chin slightly, daring him to challenge me.

For a moment, the tension between us felt almost tangible, like a live wire sparking just beneath the surface. His gaze dipped briefly to my lips, and I felt the air shift, heavy and charged.

But I didn’t move. I didn’t flinch.

Instead, I stepped around him, breaking the moment as I walked toward his desk.

“If there’s nothing else, Mr. Alcaster,” I said, my tone crisp, “I’ll get back to work. I’m sure you’ll need the materials from today’s meeting organized by morning.”

When I glanced back, he was watching me, his expression unreadable.

“Of course,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “Thank you, Miss D’Angelo.”

I nodded, walking out of the office with my head held high.

Back at my desk, I let out a slow breath, my hands steady as I resumed typing up notes. Ethan Alcaster was good—too good. He knew exactly how to test people, how to push just enough to see what they were made of.

But he wasn’t the only one playing this game.

Whatever he thought he saw in me—whatever curiosity or tension lingered between us—I would use it to my advantage. He didn’t intimidate me. He couldn’t.

Because this wasn’t about him. This was about my father.

And I wasn’t here to be distracted.