WOLFE EMPIRE:LOVE ON FIRE "SHE WAS JUST HIS ASSISTANT __UNTIL SHE BECAME HIS WEAKNESS

Chapter One – Sparks on the Road The blinding morning sun crept through the thin curtains, landing right on Baby’s face. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled into the mattress. “Five more minutes my foot!” her mother’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Baby! You’re still in bed by this time? Do you want to grow old in my house?” Baby squeezed her eyes shut. “Mummy, please. My hand still hurts,” she said, wiggling her bandaged wrist in the air dramatically. “That hand didn’t hurt when you were pressing phone till midnight!” her mum snapped. “Get up before I pour you water!” That threat worked. Baby jumped up, her bonnet sliding off halfway. She stumbled to the mirror, sighed at the reflection of her sleepy face, and muttered, “Ugh, why do I look like I fought a war in my dreams?” Her mum’s voice came again, sharper this time. “And you will fight one if you don’t leave this house soon! You said that new job is important, abi?” Baby froze. The job. “Oh my God!” she gasped, throwing her blanket off. “I’m so dead.” She dashed around her room like a tornado—grabbing a shirt, sniffing it, rejecting it, then picking another one. Her hair refused to cooperate, her toast burned, and she nearly tripped over her own shoes. “Baby!” her mum shouted again. “You forgot your food!” “Keep it for me!” she yelled back, rushing out the door with one shoe still untied. Her mum’s voice trailed after her, half-scolding, half-proud. “That stubborn girl will be the death of me.” --- The city was already alive—honking cars, shouting vendors, and the smell of fried yam mixing with dust. Baby weaved through traffic with her bag slung across her shoulder, muttering under her breath. “Late. Again. Perfect. Just perfect.” Her broken hand throbbed a little as she tightened her grip on the strap. “Ugh, all this because of one stupid bicycle accident last week. I can’t even hold coffee properly.” Her bus had already left, and the next one looked packed. So, she decided to walk—fast. That’s when she saw it. A sleek, black car parked slightly across the road. Expensive didn’t even begin to describe it—it screamed money. Shiny rims, tinted windows, the whole billionaire package. She barely glanced at it… until a motorcycle swerved past her suddenly. Baby jumped back instinctively—straight into the road— And bang! Her tote bag flew, papers scattered like confetti, and she stumbled, her hand brushing hard against the hood of the car. “Oh my God!” she gasped, clutching her wrist. “No, no, no…” The car door opened slowly. Out stepped a man. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dressed in a black suit that fit like it was made for his body alone. His dark sunglasses reflected the sunlight—reflecting her wide-eyed panic. And his jaw… sharp enough to cut glass. He looked at his car first. Then at her. His voice came out calm but cold—too calm. “You scratched my car.” Baby blinked. “Excuse me?” He tilted his head, lowering the sunglasses. Piercing grey eyes locked onto hers. “You heard me. You. Scratched. My. Car.” Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious right now? I almost died!” “Clearly not,” he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. “You’re still talking.” Baby’s temper flared instantly. “Wow. You really said that with your whole chest, huh?” He raised a brow. “Do you have any idea how much this car costs?” “Do you have any idea how much this face costs?” she shot back. “Because you almost ran it over!” “I wasn’t even moving,” he said, gesturing to his car. She crossed her arms—well, one arm, since the other was still wrapped in bandage. “Oh, congratulations, statue man. You hit me without moving.” For a second, something flickered in his eyes—amusement, maybe—but he masked it quickly. “Watch where you’re going next time, Miss...?” “None of your business,” she snapped, kneeling to pick up her spilled papers. He crouched too, surprising her. Their hands brushed for half a second—just skin, but the jolt that shot through her made her freeze. He noticed it too. His eyes narrowed slightly, voice dropping low. “Next time, try using your eyes before your mouth.” Baby’s jaw clenched. “Next time, try using your manners before your ego.” He smirked. A slow, dangerous smirk that made her heart skip before she rolled her eyes. “You’re trouble,” he said. “And you’re annoying,” she replied without hesitation. “Perfect match, huh?” He let out a short laugh—quiet but genuine. Then his phone buzzed. He straightened immediately, tone switching back to business. “Some of us have places to be. Try not to destroy any more vehicles today.” She glared up at him. “Try not to park like the world revolves around you.” He gave her one last look—cool, unreadable—and slipped into the car. The engine purred, sleek and expensive, as he drove off without another word. Baby stood there, hair messy, heart racing, staring after the car that had just left her half-insulted, half-flustered. “Who even drives like that?” she muttered. “And who looks that… that… ugh!” Her bandaged hand throbbed again. She sighed, gathering her things. “Great start to the day, Baby. Fantastic.” As she turned to leave, her phone buzzed with a message from the job agency: “Report to Wolfe Empire by 10:00 a.m. for your final interview.” Her heart skipped. She glanced down the road where the black car had disappeared. “Wolfe Empire?” she whispered. A chill ran down her spine. Somehow, she had a feeling this wasn’t the last time she’d see Mr. Expensive Car. ---