LOVE IN HIS SHADOW

Chapter 3

Chapter Three.

"The Summons"

The alarm clock buzzed angrily in the dimness of the room, rattling against the flimsy wooden nightstand. Elena groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders before finally stretching her arm out and silencing it. The apartment was small, a cramped studio with faded wallpaper and a radiator that clanged more than it warmed, but it was hers. Rent drained most of her paycheck, leaving her surviving on instant noodles and black coffee, yet she clung to this space like it was proof of her independence.

The memory of last night clawed at her before she even swung her legs out of bed. The grand ballroom. The laughter that sliced like knives. Her clumsy fall. The storm-gray eyes of Adrian Blackwell when he crouched beside her. That brief spark, that voice like velvet steel whispering, “Careful.”

She pressed her palms against her eyes. “Forget it,” she muttered to herself. “It meant nothing.”

But no matter how many times she repeated the words, her pulse quickened at the thought of him. She had no business remembering the scent of his cologne or the weight of his gaze. Men like Adrian Blackwell belonged in skyscrapers, commanding entire industries. She was just a temporary intern, lucky to be tolerated in his empire. Their worlds were not only separate, they were incompatible.

Elena rose, pulling on her secondhand blazer and smoothing the wrinkles as best she could. The mirror by the door reflected a pale face framed by dark hair hastily twisted into a bun. Her eyes looked tired, shadows beneath them a reminder of too many nights spent juggling part-time jobs and coursework. She drew in a breath and whispered the same mantra she always did before work: Blend in. Stay invisible. Do not attract attention.

The subway ride was crowded, bodies pressed close, the air thick with the scent of sweat, wet coats, and burnt coffee. She clutched her tote bag to her chest, trying to drown out the noise with music leaking from someone’s headphones. By the time the train screeched to a halt at the Financial District, her stomach churned from the motion and from nerves.

Blackwell Enterprises towered above her when she surfaced onto the street. Fifty-five floors of sleek glass and steel piercing the morning sky. Inside, the lobby gleamed, its marble floor polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the hurried steps of men and women in tailored suits. Security guards nodded curtly as badges flashed. Elena adjusted her own badge nervously, its plastic edges cracked. She felt the weight of the space pressing down on her — a cathedral of wealth and power.

The interns’ corner on the twelfth floor was far less impressive. Rows of cheap desks, old computers, and stacks of documents waiting to be filed filled the cramped room. Elena dropped into her chair, the springs squeaking in protest, and booted up her sluggish computer.

“Late again, Carter?” A sharp voice cut across the room.

She glanced up to see Melissa, another intern, smirking as she leaned against the cubicle wall. Melissa’s hair was perfectly curled, her nails manicured to a glossy shine, her blouse designer-label. Rumor had it her uncle was on the board of directors.

“I am on time,” Elena said evenly, though her cheeks flushed.

Melissa’s smirk widened. “If you say so. Just try not to trip over your own feet in front of the CEO again. The whole office is buzzing about it.”

A few others chuckled quietly from their desks. Elena’s stomach twisted. Of course the story had spread. Her humiliation from last night was office gossip by morning. She bent her head, forcing herself to focus on the spreadsheets loading onto her screen.

Hours bled together as she filed documents, corrected typos, and fetched coffee orders she never drank from. Still, Adrian’s face haunted her thoughts. She told herself it was just embarrassment, that her mind clung to the memory because of the public disaster she had made. But that did not explain why her heart raced whenever she thought of his eyes locking with hers, as though he had seen something beneath the surface she desperately wanted to hide.

By noon, Elena’s boss, Ms. Rhodes, stormed into the intern bay with her heels striking the linoleum like gunfire. “Carter!” she barked.

Elena jumped, nearly knocking over her coffee mug. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You are wanted upstairs.”

Her stomach sank. “Upstairs?”

“The top floor.” Ms. Rhodes adjusted her glasses, her expression unreadable. “Mr. Blackwell’s office.”

For a moment, Elena was certain she had misheard. The top floor was a world apart from the twelfth. It was whispered about like a forbidden kingdom. Only senior executives or the board dared set foot there. Interns? Never.

“Why?” Elena asked before she could stop herself.

Her boss’s eyes narrowed. “Do not ask questions. Just go. And try not to embarrass us further.”

Her legs felt like lead as she pushed back her chair and gathered her bag. The entire room seemed to pause, dozens of eyes tracking her every movement. Melissa whispered something to the girl beside her, their muffled laughter following Elena out the door.

The elevator ride stretched like an eternity. Floor after floor ticked past, each ding of the bell tightening the knot in her chest. By the time the doors slid open on the fifty-fifth floor, her palms were damp with sweat.

The silence was the first thing she noticed. Unlike the bustling lower floors, the top level was hushed, the carpet muffling every step. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling and abstract art worth more than her yearly rent. A receptionist with immaculate posture and a headset sat at a sleek black desk, her smile professional but cool.

“Elena Carter?” she asked.

Elena nodded mutely.

“You may go in. He is expecting you.”

Her throat dried. “Mr. Blackwell is… expecting me?”

“Yes.” The woman’s smile did not waver. “Go right in.”

The double doors loomed ahead, carved from heavy oak, their handles gleaming like polished gold. Elena’s heart thundered as she reached for them. Every instinct screamed to turn back, to flee before she crossed a line she could never return from. But her hand pushed forward almost of its own accord.

The office beyond was vast, its floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline like a living painting. The space was all sharp edges and minimalism, a fortress of power. Behind a desk that looked more like a command center than furniture sat Adrian Blackwell.

He did not rise when she entered. He did not need to. His presence filled the room entirely.

Elena froze just inside the threshold, the doors closing softly behind her. Her pulse pounded so loudly she could barely hear her own voice when she whispered, “You… wanted to see me, sir?”

Adrian leaned back in his chair, his storm-gray eyes fixed on her with unnerving intensity. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply studying her as though she were a puzzle no one else could solve.

Finally, his voice rolled across the room, low and deliberate. “Close the door, Miss Carter. We need to talk.”

Elena’s breath caught in her throat. Whatever this was, it was

not routine. And deep down, she knew her life was about to change forever.