After Midnight

The first thing Elaria Cole learned about Lagos was that the city never truly slept. Even at seven in the morning, traffic had already swallowed the roads, horns battled one another from every direction, and the humid air carried the familiar mixture of rain, fuel, perfume, and freshly baked bread from a roadside vendor. Elaria stared through the window of the taxi, her fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of her handbag. Today was supposed to be the beginning of everything. Or the beginning of another disappointment. She looked down at the email on her phone for what had to be the tenth time. Congratulations, Ms. Cole. We are pleased to offer you the position of Junior Screenwriter at Blackwood Media Group. Her stomach twisted. Blackwood Media Group. The name alone carried weight. Everyone in Lagos entertainment knew the company. They produced some of the biggest films, owned several television networks, and had recently expanded into international productions. And at the center of it all was Adrian Blackwood. Thirty-one years old. Billionaire. Businessman. Private. Ruthless. And, according to every article Elaria had read about him, completely allergic to interviews. She locked her phone. "Stop looking at that thing before you break it," Naomi said from beside her. Elaria glanced at her best friend. "I'm nervous." "You?" Naomi laughed. "The same Elaria who argued with a university lecturer for twenty minutes because he called your screenplay unrealistic?" "That was different." "How?" "He was wrong." Naomi rolled her eyes. "Exactly. So why are you scared of one billionaire?" "Because billionaires can fire people." "So can lecturers." Elaria laughed despite herself. The taxi slowed as they approached the enormous glass building bearing the Blackwood Media logo. Her heart sank. This was real. She had spent years writing stories nobody had read. Stories on scraps of paper, notes on her phone, half-finished manuscripts saved in folders she was too embarrassed to open. She had always believed she could become a screenwriter. But believing something and actually standing at the door of an opportunity were two completely different things. The taxi stopped. Naomi squeezed her hand. "Go." Elaria looked at her. "What if I mess up?" "You will." "Naomi!" "I'm being honest." "You're terrible." "But I'm your terrible friend." Naomi smiled. "Now go make them regret ever hiring you." Elaria stepped out of the taxi. She adjusted her blazer, took one deep breath, and walked toward the building. She had no idea that the man waiting for her inside had already seen her file. And he had already made a decision about her. --- Adrian Blackwood stood behind the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, staring down at the city. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his trousers. "She's here." He didn't turn around. "How long?" "About three minutes." Marcus Reed placed a folder on the desk. "Her name is Elaria Cole. Twenty-five Mass communication graduate. Freelance writer. A few unpublished scripts. Strong academic record." Adrian finally turned. "Her father?" Marcus paused. "That's where it gets interesting." Adrian's expression hardened. "I didn't ask if it was interesting." "I know." Marcus opened the folder. "Richard Cole worked with your father's company fourteen years ago." Adrian's jaw tightened. "How long?" "Less than a year." "And then?" "He resigned." "Why?" "We're still trying to find out." Adrian walked toward the desk. "Still?" Marcus nodded. "There are gaps in the records." Adrian looked at the photograph clipped to the file. Elaria. Her expression was serious, but there was something about her eyes that caught his attention. She didn't look frightened. She looked determined. "Does she know about the connection?" "No." "Good." Marcus studied him. "You're really doing this?" Adrian closed the folder. "She's been hired." "That's not what I mean." Silence. Marcus sighed. "Adrian, whatever happened between our families years ago, bringing his daughter into your company isn't going to change the past." "I know." "Then why?" Adrian looked through the glass again. "Because I want to know what her father was hiding." --- Elaria stepped out of the elevator on the thirty-second floor. A receptionist directed her toward a conference room. She thanked her and walked away. Her heels clicked against the polished floor. Everything looked expensive. Too expensive. Even the silence seemed expensive. She reached the conference room and knocked. "Come in." The voice was deep. Calm. Commanding. Elaria opened the door. And stopped. Adrian Blackwood was standing near the windows. She had seen photographs of him online. None of them had prepared her for the actual man. He was tall, dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit, with dark hair and an expression that made it difficult to guess what he was thinking. His eyes moved over her briefly. Not appreciatively. Not rudely. Clinically. As though she were another document he needed to evaluate. Elaria immediately disliked him. "Ms. Cole." "Mr. Blackwood." Neither moved. He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk. "Sit." She sat. He remained standing. "You've never worked for a major production company." "No." "You've never had a screenplay professionally produced." "Not yet." His eyebrow lifted. "Not yet?" "I wouldn't have applied if I didn't believe I could do the job." Something flickered across his face. Almost amusement. Almost. He sat opposite her. "Confidence." "Is that a problem?" "Sometimes." Elaria crossed her legs. "So is arrogance." Marcus, standing near the door, suddenly looked interested. Adrian stared at her. For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth moved. "You've been here less than five minutes." "And you've already insulted me twice." "I haven't insulted you." "You questioned my qualifications." "I questioned your experience." "Same thing." "No." His voice was calm. That somehow irritated her more. Adrian opened her file. "You studied mass communication." "Yes." "You've written several scripts." "Yes." "None have been produced." "Not yet." "There it is again." Elaria leaned back. "Would you prefer I say never?" His eyes met hers. "No." "Then we're finished." Adrian closed the file. "Your first assignment begins tomorrow." Elaria blinked. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." "I thought this was an interview." "It was." "And I got the job?" "You got the opportunity to prove you deserve it." She smiled slowly. "I'll take that." Adrian stood. "So will I." She gathered her bag. As she reached the door, his voice stopped her. "Ms. Cole." She turned. "Yes?" "Don't disappoint me." Elaria stared at him. Then smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't plan to." She walked out. The door closed behind her. Marcus looked at Adrian. "She's going to be trouble." Adrian didn't answer. His eyes remained on the closed door. For the first time in years, something about a person had managed to hold his attention longer than business. And he didn't like it. --- Elaria stepped into the elevator and exhaled. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. "Unbelievable." The elevator doors closed. She pulled out her phone and immediately called Naomi. "How did it go?" Naomi asked. "I hate him." Naomi burst out laughing. "That bad?" "He's arrogant." "Rich?" "Very." "Handsome?" Elaria hesitated. Naomi gasped. "Oh my God." "Don't." "You hesitated!" "I was thinking." "You were admiring." "I was not." "You definitely were." Elaria pressed the elevator button harder than necessary. "He has the personality of a locked door." "And the face of an unlocked one?" "Naomi." "I'm just asking." Elaria laughed. The elevator reached the lobby. She stepped outside. The sunlight hit her face. For a moment, everything felt lighter. She had gotten the job. She had actually done it. But as she walked toward the entrance, her phone vibrated. An unknown number. Welcome to Blackwood Media, Elaria. She frowned. Another message appeared. You have no idea what you've just walked into. Her smile disappeared. She stopped walking. She looked around. People moved around her, completely unaware. Another message arrived. Leave before it's too late. Elaria stared at the screen. Her heart began to beat faster. She typed: Who is this? The message showed as delivered. No response. She looked up at the towering building behind her. Thirty-two floors of glass and steel. Somewhere above her was Adrian Blackwood. The man she had met less than an hour ago. The man who had somehow made her feel both irritated and strangely curious. And now someone was warning her to stay away. Elaria slipped her phone into her bag. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe someone was trying to scare her. Or maybe accepting that job had been the biggest mistake of her life. She started walking again. She didn't see the black car parked across the street. She didn't see the man watching her from behind the tinted window. And she certainly didn't hear him whisper her name. "Elaria Cole." Inside the car, Adrian lowered his phone. His expression was unreadable. He had received the same message. But unlike Elaria, he knew exactly what it meant. Someone had found out that she was here. And someone wanted her gone. Before midnight, Adrian knew, everything was going to change.