HIS ARROGANCE MY WEAKNESS

prologue ‎ ‎He is power. He is control. He is everything I should fear… and yet, he’s the one thing I can’t resist. ‎ ‎Miguel Alvarez, CEO of Imperium Global, is a man untouchable by weakness. Arrogant, brilliant, and merciless—he built his empire with cold precision, leaving no room for mistakes… or emotions. ‎ ‎Then I walked into his office. ‎Late. Nervous. Dressed in nothing but second-hand confidence. ‎ ‎I should’ve been invisible. Instead, I caught his attention—for all the wrong reasons. ‎ ‎Now, I’m trapped between his sharp words and sharper gaze, torn between hating his arrogance and craving the fire it lights inside me. Because every time he pushes, I want to push back. And every time he looks at me, I forget how to breathe. ‎ ‎But falling for him is dangerous. Loving him might destroy me. ‎Still… his arrogance may just be my greatest weakness. CHAPTER 1 – The Wrong Side of the Morning ‎ ‎“Ella! You’ll be late again!” ‎ ‎Her mother’s voice carried from the kitchen, firm but tinged with worry. ‎ ‎“I know, Mama!” Ella called back, hopping on one foot as she tried to force her shoe on. The strap was half-broken, and the more she tugged, the more it refused to cooperate. ‎ ‎From the bedroom, Nico’s small voice piped up. “Ella, you promised you’d walk me to school today.” ‎ ‎Guilt hit her like a stone. She pushed her hair out of her face and hurried into the kitchen. Her mother was setting a cracked plate of bread on the table, her scarf slipping off her gray-streaked hair. She looked older than her years, tired lines carving her face, but her eyes still carried warmth. ‎ ‎“Come, eat something first.” Her mother pressed a slice of bread into her hand. “You can’t work all day on an empty stomach.” ‎ ‎Ella chewed quickly, even though her throat was tight. She glanced at Nico, bent over his books on the couch, pencil tucked behind his ear. He looked up at her with wide brown eyes, the kind that silently begged her not to leave. ‎ ‎She crouched beside him, brushing his hair back. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.” ‎ ‎“You always say that,” he whispered, pouting. ‎ ‎Her heart twisted. She kissed his forehead, then stood, forcing a smile. “One day, I won’t have to leave at all. I’ll get a real job, Mama won’t have to worry, and you’ll never see me rushing out the door again.” ‎ ‎Her mother reached for her hand, her palm warm and rough. “I don’t need promises, Ella. I just want you safe. Don’t let people step all over you.” ‎ ‎Ella hesitated, her throat burning. Safe? In this city, safety was a luxury. But she nodded anyway. “I’ll be fine, Mama. I always am.” ‎ ‎ ‎--- ‎ ‎By the time she reached the restaurant, her lungs were burning. The familiar neon sign flickered above the door, the paint peeling, the smell of fried oil already clinging to the air. ‎ ‎Inside, Mr. Gomez spotted her instantly. His thick mustache twitched as his face tightened into a scowl. ‎ ‎“You’re late.” His voice was sharp, loud enough that the waitresses nearby looked over. ‎ ‎“I’m sorry, the bus—” ‎ ‎“Excuses,” he snapped, cutting her off. “You think customers care about buses? They care about service. If you can’t even show up on time, why are you here?” ‎ ‎Heat flushed Ella’s cheeks. She bowed her head slightly, swallowing her pride. “It won’t happen again, sir.” ‎ ‎Mr. Gomez smirked, clearly enjoying her humiliation. “That’s what you said last week.” ‎ ‎She clenched her jaw, but forced a polite nod. Her chest burned with anger, but she needed this job. Rent was late, and Mama’s medicine wasn’t going to pay for itself. ‎ ‎ ‎--- ‎ ‎The evening crowd was heavy. Ella balanced trays, dodged impatient customers, and tried to ignore Gomez’s eyes on her every mistake. But fate had other plans. ‎ ‎As she set down water for a man in a wrinkled suit, the glass slipped from her trembling fingers, spilling across the table and onto his sleeve. ‎ ‎“You clumsy i***t!” the man roared, leaping to his feet. The restaurant hushed. “Do you even know how to work, girl?” ‎ ‎“I—I’m sorry,” Ella stammered, grabbing napkins. Her hands shook as she dabbed at the table. ‎ ‎“Sorry?” He shoved her hand away. “You’ve ruined my suit! Who’s paying for this?” ‎ ‎Mr. Gomez stormed over, his face red with fury. “Ella! What did you do now?” ‎ ‎“I said I’m sorry, it was an accident—” ‎ ‎“An accident?” Gomez barked. “All you ever have are accidents. You’re useless! Apologize properly or get out.” ‎ ‎Something inside her snapped. For weeks, she had swallowed her pride, let them shout, let them treat her like she was worth nothing. Not tonight. ‎ ‎Her chest rose and fell as she met Gomez’s eyes. “I said I’m sorry. But I won’t be treated like trash.” ‎ ‎The room went silent. Forks clinked down, whispers spreading. ‎ ‎Mr. Gomez’s expression hardened, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “That’s it. You’re finished here.” ‎ ‎He yanked open the register, pulled out a handful of notes, and shoved them into her palm. “Here—your pay. Get out of my restaurant.” ‎ ‎The money crumpled in her fist as her throat ached with unshed tears. Every step toward the door felt heavier, but she didn’t let them see her break. ‎ ‎Only when the cool night air hit her face did the tears finally slip free. She pressed the money against her chest and whispered into the empty street: ‎ ‎“One day… I’ll be more than this. One day, they’ll see.” ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎CHAPTER 2 - A Knock at the Door ‎ ‎The door creaked as Ella stepped inside, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She tried to slip past quietly, but Mama Grace’s voice caught her. ‎ ‎“You’re home early,” her mother said without looking up, her needle moving in and out of Nico’s school shirt. ‎ ‎Ella froze, her throat tightening. “Yeah,” she murmured, dropping her bag onto the floor. “Early. And… done.” ‎ ‎Mama Grace glanced up now, her brow folding. “Done?” ‎ ‎Ella swallowed, her lips trembling as she pulled a wad of crumpled notes from her pocket and set it on the table. “That’s Gomez’s way of saying goodbye. Paid me off like I was some problem to erase.” Her laugh cracked, bitter and shaky. ‎ ‎Nico’s pencil clattered to the floor. “They fired you?” ‎ ‎She dropped into the chair beside him, pulling him close with one arm. His little body pressed against her side, steadying her as much as she tried to steady him. “Something like that. But don’t worry, baby. I’ll figure it out.” ‎ ‎Her mother set the needle down, her eyes soft but heavy with worry. “Ella, how much longer can you keep breaking yourself for scraps?” ‎ ‎Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She forced a smile. “As long as I have to, Mama. For you. For Nico.” ‎ ‎The silence that followed was thick. Nico hugged her waist tighter, his small voice whispering, “Don’t be sad, Ella. You always fix everything.” ‎ ‎Her chest ached. If only he knew how scared I really am. ‎ ‎ ‎--- ‎ ‎A sudden knock startled them. ‎ ‎Ella wiped quickly at her eyes and stood. “Probably Mrs. Oko with more church fliers,” she muttered. But when she opened the door, she nearly stumbled back as Clara practically leapt inside. ‎ ‎“Ella!” Clara’s curls bounced as she threw her arms around her. “Girl, why didn’t you answer my calls?” ‎ ‎Ella blinked. “Phone’s dead. Clara, what—” ‎ ‎Her friend pulled back, her eyes narrowing as she studied her face. “Oh no. You’ve been crying. Don’t tell me Gomez—” ‎ ‎Ella gave a humorless chuckle. “He hated me from day one. Today he finally got rid of me.” ‎ ‎Clara gasped, hands flying to her hips. “That disgusting pig. I knew it! I told you he’d snap one day. You’re too good for that place anyway.” ‎ ‎Mama Grace shook her head with a sigh. “Clara, you always bring a storm.” ‎ ‎Clara grinned sheepishly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Sorry, Mama Grace. But this storm comes with sunshine today.” She turned back to Ella, eyes sparkling. “Listen. Imperium Corporation is recruiting.” ‎ ‎The room went still. Even Nico perked up. ‎ ‎Ella blinked, stunned. “Imperium? The Imperium?” ‎ ‎Clara nodded eagerly. “Yes! The empire of all empires. Assistants, secretaries, interns—you name it. This is your chance, Ella.” ‎ ‎Ella laughed nervously, though her heart was racing. “Clara, look at me. I don’t belong in a glass tower. I barely survived Gomez’s restaurant.” ‎ ‎“Exactly why you need this,” Clara shot back. “Stop hiding your fire. Imperium isn’t just a job—it’s a new life.” ‎ ‎Nico tugged Ella’s hand, his eyes wide with hope. “Please try, Ella. You said you’d figure it out. Maybe this is it.” ‎ ‎Ella looked from his little face to her mother’s quiet, searching eyes, then to Clara’s fierce grin. For the first time all day, she felt something stir inside her chest—not fear, but possibility. ‎ ‎She let out a shaky breath. “Alright. I’ll try.” ‎ ‎Clara squealed and hugged her tight. “That’s my girl. Tomorrow morning, we walk into Imperium together. And trust me—everything changes from here.” ‎ ‎: ‎ ‎ ‎ Chapter 3 – Waiting Rooms and Silent Wars ‎ ‎The recruitment floor of Imperium Corporation looked nothing like what Ella had imagined. ‎ ‎The hall itself was intimidating, polished marble tiles, gold accents on the walls, and chandeliers that caught every ray of light, scattering it across the wide space. Everything screamed money, power, and class. Even the air smelled expensive, like fresh coffee mixed with high-end perfume. ‎ ‎Ella sat stiffly on a chair near the end of the line of applicants, her folder clutched to her chest. Her blouse, neatly ironed but faded at the cuffs, felt like a spotlight was on it, screaming she didn’t belong. The skirt she wore was simple, her shoes scuffed at the edges, polished with love but long past new. ‎ ‎Around her, the other candidates looked like they’d stepped straight out of a glossy magazine. ‎ ‎A young woman in a cream blazer leaned back confidently, scrolling through her phone with manicured nails. Another girl in a sleek black dress whispered into her friend’s ear, their matching heels clicking lightly against the floor as they crossed their legs in perfect sync. Even the men were sharply dressed,ties perfectly knotted, watches glinting with every movement. ‎ ‎Ella swallowed hard. She pulled her sleeves down, as if hiding her worn cuffs could somehow erase the difference. ‎ ‎I shouldn’t be here… ‎ ‎Her stomach turned as she watched the first applicant enter the interview room. The door shut with a quiet thud, and silence fell in the hall. Five minutes later, the woman came out, her once-confident smile erased. She kept her eyes on the floor as she walked quickly toward the exit. ‎ ‎Another went in. Ten minutes later, he came out shaking his head, muttering, “Impossible…” under his breath. ‎ ‎One by one, polished faces walked in with hope and walked out defeated. Their shoulders slumped, their eyes glossy with embarrassment. ‎ ‎The tension in the room thickened with each failure. ‎ ‎Ella’s nails dug into the edge of her folder. If the beautiful, confident ones were being crushed, what chance did she have? ‎ ‎Clara, sitting beside her, leaned close. “Hey,” she whispered, nudging her. “Stop frowning so much. You’ll scare the panel before you even walk in.” ‎ ‎Ella blinked, startled. “Clara, I… look at me. I don’t fit in here. I feel like I stole someone else’s spot.” ‎ ‎Clara rolled her eyes, softening with a smile. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re smarter than half these people, Ella. And don’t forget, you survived that restaurant job for months. If you could handle customers throwing food at you, you can handle whatever’s behind that door.” ‎ ‎A weak laugh escaped Ella’s lips. “That’s different. This is Imperium. Look at them,” she whispered, nodding toward the other applicants. “They belong here. I’m just… me.” ‎ ‎Clara tilted her head, her tone suddenly firm. “And that’s enough.” ‎ ‎Ella’s throat tightened, and she looked down at her hands. Her knuckles were white from gripping the folder too tightly. She loosened her hold, forcing herself to breathe. ‎ ‎The door opened again, and another applicant exited, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. The silence in the hall deepened. ‎ ‎A voice rang out: “Ella Grace.” ‎ ‎Her name sliced through the air like a blade. ‎ ‎Ella’s head snapped up, her heart leaping into her throat. She froze, staring at the woman who had called her name. ‎ ‎Clara squeezed her hand tightly. “This is it. Go, Ella. Don’t you dare back out.” ‎ ‎Ella’s legs felt like jelly as she rose. The polished eyes of the other candidates followed her, measuring, judging, whispering silently: She doesn’t belong here. ‎ ‎Her cheeks flushed hot, but she forced herself to take a step forward. Then another. Each step echoed loudly in her ears until she stood before the heavy wooden doors. ‎ ‎Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. ‎ ‎She thought of her mother coughing in the small apartment. She thought of Nico, his little voice whispering last night: Please try, Ella. ‎ ‎Her breath trembled, but she lifted her chin. ‎ ‎And with that, she pushed the door open. ‎ ‎On the other side sat Miguel Alvarez, the man whose empire ruled the skyline… and whose eyes were about to meet hers for the very first time. ‎ ‎ ‎--- ‎ ‎Chapter 4 – The Interview ‎ ‎The boardroom was too bright, too polished, too perfect. Every detail screamed wealth and power, and Ella felt like an intruder the moment she walked in. ‎ ‎But nothing prepared her for him. ‎ ‎Miguel Alvarez. ‎ ‎He didn’t just sit at the center of the panel, he owned the space. His suit was cut to perfection, his silver cufflinks gleaming with quiet arrogance, and his storm-gray eyes locked on her the second she entered. It was like being caught under lightning. ‎ ‎Ella’s breath faltered. She forced her legs to move, but her heel caught slightly against the floor, the sound echoing too loud in the silent room. Smooth, Ella. Great start. ‎ ‎“Miss Grace?” the woman on the left asked kindly, her voice pulling Ella back. ‎ ‎“Yes.” Her own voice was breathless. She hurried to the chair, but too fast—her knee smacked the table. Pain shot up her leg. She clenched her teeth, forcing a smile, pretending nothing happened. ‎ ‎Miguel didn’t blink. His eyes followed her every move, cool and sharp, like a predator watching prey. ‎ ‎“Tell us about yourself,” the older man prompted. ‎ ‎Ella clasped her hands together under the table to hide the tremor in her fingers. She could feel Miguel’s gaze pressing against her skin, daring her to crumble. ‎ ‎“My name is Ella Grace,” she began, voice soft but steadying as she spoke. “I studied Business Administration… worked in a restaurant before this. I learned how to stay calm. Even when people weren’t… kind.” ‎ ‎For a second, something flickered across Miguel’s face, so subtle it was almost invisible. ‎ ‎“And why Imperium?” the woman asked. ‎ ‎Ella swallowed hard, her chest tightening. She couldn’t tell them the truth—that she was desperate, that her family’s survival depended on this. So instead, she lifted her chin and forced courage into her words. ‎ ‎“Because Imperium is the best,” she said, steady now. “And I want to prove I belong among the best.” ‎ ‎The panelists exchanged thoughtful looks. Miguel, however, didn’t move. His stare only grew sharper, heavier, until she felt pinned to the chair. ‎ ‎“And what,” he finally spoke, his voice low, deliberate, dangerous, “makes you think you belong here?” ‎ ‎The sound of his voice startled her. It wasn’t loud, but it was powerful,like a blade sliding from its sheath. ‎ ‎Ella’s chest tightened. But instead of shrinking, she met his eyes. Gray clashed with brown, steel against flame. ‎ ‎“I don’t quit,” she said quietly. Then stronger, her voice trembling with conviction, “No matter how hard it gets. No matter who tries to push me down.” ‎ ‎The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. ‎ ‎Miguel leaned forward, elbows on the table. His voice dropped lower, velvet edged with steel. ‎ ‎“Talk is easy, Miss Grace. Imperium doesn’t just demand strength, it drains it. People come here thinking determination is enough…” His eyes flicked deliberately over her worn skirt, her plain blouse. “…and they shatter.” ‎ ‎Heat shot into her cheeks. Not just from humiliation,but from anger. He wasn’t testing her. He was dismissing her. ‎ ‎Ella’s pulse pounded in her ears, but she refused to bow. She lifted her chin, her voice cutting through the silence like fire through glass. ‎ ‎“Then let me shatter. At least you’ll know I didn’t break easy.” ‎ ‎Gasps echoed softly around the table. The panelists exchanged startled glances. ‎ ‎But Miguel… Miguel froze. For the first time, his mask cracked. His lips parted slightly, his eyes narrowing, not in anger, but in something dangerously close to intrigue. ‎ ‎The flicker was gone in a heartbeat, replaced with his cold mask. Still, he leaned back slowly, never breaking their eye contact. ‎ ‎Ella’s heart thundered. Her palms were slick, her knees weak, but she did not look away. Not from him. ‎ ‎For the first time in years, Miguel Alvarez felt unsettled. ‎And Ella Grace, trembling and furious in her secondhand skirt, had no idea she had just lit a fire that would not die. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎-Chapter 5 – Aftershocks ‎ ‎Ella’s heels clicked too loudly against the marble floor as she left the boardroom. Each step felt like walking away from a battlefield. Her hands trembled at her sides, her chest tight as if her ribs could barely contain her racing heart. ‎ ‎The moment the glass doors shut behind her, the breath she had been holding rushed out, shaky and uneven. ‎ ‎Idiot. What were you thinking? ‎ ‎She pressed her palm to her face, heat crawling up her neck. Talking back to a CEO? To that CEO? What kind of secretary candidate looked a man like Miguel Alvarez in the eye and basically dared him to destroy her? ‎ ‎She should’ve been terrified. And she was. But beneath the fear, something else burned. ‎ ‎A strange, stubborn pride. ‎ ‎For once, she hadn’t let someone rich and powerful walk all over her. She had stood up. She had fought back. And deep down… it felt good. ‎ ‎Still, reality came crashing in as she sank into one of the lobby chairs. The other girls waiting for their turn had dresses so sleek they looked straight out of a fashion magazine. Their perfume lingered in the air, expensive and sweet, while Ella smoothed down her wrinkled skirt and tried to quiet the small, humiliating voice inside: You don’t belong here. ‎ ‎Clara spotted her from across the room and hurried over. “How did it go?” ‎ ‎Ella’s lips parted, but the words caught in her throat. She gave a weak laugh instead, shaking her head. “I think… I may have just ruined everything.” ‎ ‎Clara frowned, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “Or maybe you just showed them what makes you different.” ‎ ‎Ella forced a smile, but her chest tightened. She wanted to believe that. She needed to believe that. But all she could see in her mind was Miguel Alvarez’s cold gray stare. ‎ ‎ ‎--- ‎ ‎High above, back in the boardroom, Miguel sat in silence long after Ella had left. ‎ ‎The panelists shuffled their papers, whispering among themselves, but he barely heard them. His gaze lingered on the door as if expecting her to walk back in. ‎ ‎“What do you think of her, sir?” one of the directors asked cautiously. ‎ ‎Miguel didn’t answer right away. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, replaying every second of the exchange. The tremor in her voice that had steadied into fire. The way her eyes—dark, unyielding—hadn’t flinched even when he tried to crush her. ‎ ‎No one ever looked at him like that. People either feared him or flattered him. Ella Grace had done neither. ‎ ‎He should’ve dismissed her instantly. He should’ve marked her down as reckless, disrespectful, unfit. That was the logical choice. The safe choice. ‎ ‎So why did he feel like she had carved her defiance into his skin? ‎ ‎“Unpolished,” he finally said, his voice even, giving nothing away. “Inexperienced. Poorly presented.” He listed the words like facts, though they tasted wrong on his tongue. ‎ ‎The panel nodded. One scribbled notes. ‎ ‎But when Miguel’s eyes flicked to the empty chair she had left behind, a flicker of something dangerous stirred in his chest. ‎ ‎Not admiration. Not yet. But something close. Something he didn’t like. ‎ ‎“She won’t last,” he said coldly, as if to convince himself. “But let’s see how long before she breaks.” ‎ ‎And for the first time in a long while, Miguel Alvarez found himself curious. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎