One Night with my ruthless Alpha CEO

The Lion’s Den

"Next. Reina Helems."

The woman’s voice was flat, bored, like she was calling a number at a deli and not sending me to my execution. I stood up, my thighs sticking to the plastic chair for a split second before the cheap fabric let go with a quiet rip. My suit was a bargain-bin find, polyester that didn't breathe, and I could already feel sweat pooling between my shoulder blades.

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking so hard I had to shove them into my pockets. I forced myself to move, every step toward those massive doors, feeling like I was walking through concrete. My stomach gave a sharp, nasty tug, reminding me that I hadn't managed to keep down anything but half a glass of water and a prayer this morning.

Just get the job. Get the paycheck. Hide the ring.

I pushed inside. The office was too big, too quiet, and smelled so much like the man from that night that I almost lost my balance. It was that scent again, cedar and something dark.

He was sitting there, silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling glass. He didn't look up. He was staring at a tablet, his thumb scrolling with a rhythmic, impatient flick.

"Sit," he said.

His voice didn't just vibrate in the room, it hit me in the chest. It was the same growl that had told me I was magnificent three weeks ago. My heart went from a dull thud to a frantic, panicked gallop that made my ears ring.

He swiveled the chair. Xavier Voss didn't look like the man from the bar. In the bar, he had been a predator looking for a meal. Here, he looked like the man who owned the entire world. His eyes were cold and sharp.

Then he looked at me.

CRACK.

The stylus in his hand snapped in half, the plastic shards flying across the desk like shrapnel. He didn't even flinch. His nostrils flared, his chest expanding as he took a long, dragging breath of the air, as if he were trying to pull the very scent of me into his lungs. His eyes went wide, the grey turning into a pitch-black void.

"You," he rasped.

"Mr. Voss," I said, my voice cracking. I hated how small I sounded. I sat on the edge of the chair, my knees pressed together so hard they ached.

He didn't look at my resume. He was staring at my neck, searching for the gold chain he knew was there. He stood up, his movements too fast, too smooth to be normal. He stalked around the desk, stopping so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest through my blazer.

"Three weeks," he growled, leaning down until I could see the strange flecks in his eyes. "I’ve turned this city inside out looking for a woman who didn't exist. And you... walk into my office?"

"I needed a job," I snapped, my fear finally turning into anger. "And I figured the man who leaves five grand on a nightstand could afford to pay a salary. I’m not a charity case, Xavier."

He flinched at the use of his first name. "The money wasn't a payment, Reina. It was meant to keep you until I got back. There was an emergency." He leaned in closer, his nose brushing the skin of my temple. He took another slow, deep breath, and I felt a shiver race down my spine that made my skin crawl.

His body went stiff. A sound started in his throat, a low, vibrating hum that made the floor feel unsteady.

"Your scent," he whispered. "It’s different. It’s... thick. Heavy."

His eyes dropped to my waist. For a second, the grey in his pupils seemed to fade away, replaced by a strange, molten light. I thought it was wild. I thought this was a man who was so obsessed, so possessive, that he was losing his mind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, my voice rising as I tried to shove his chest away. It was like trying to move a wall. "You’re being weird, Mr. Voss. If this is how you treat your staff, I’ll find a job elsewhere."

"You aren't going anywhere," he said, his voice dropping into a command that made my blood boil. "You want the job? You have it. You're my personal assistant. You start immediately. You don't leave this floor without my permission.

"That's not a job description, that's slavery," I breathed, my eyes shifting to the door.

"Call it whatever you want." He straightened up, his hand reaching out to brush his thumb against the spot where my pulse was leaping in my throat. His touch was scorching, sending a jolt through me that made my knees weak. "But you're in my world now, Reina. And I’m going to find out exactly what secret you're hiding."

The nausea hit me again and my vision blurred. I turned pale, my stomach doing a violent flip. I thought I was going to throw up right on the expensive rug.

Xavier didn't hesitate. He caught my shoulders, his grip like iron but strangely careful.

"Breakroom. Third cabinet. Ginger tea," he ordered, his voice tight. "Eat the crackers. If I come in there and find a crumb left, we’re going to have a very different kind of meeting. Go. Now."

I practically ran out of the office, my heels clicking on the hard floor. I didn't stop until I was in the hallway, my hand over my mouth.

I had the job. But as I looked at the closed door, I didn't feel relieved. I felt hunted. I touched the signet ring under my shirt, the metal feeling unnaturally warm against my skin. Xavier Voss wasn't just a CEO. He was a man obsessed, and now he had me under his thumb.

I just had to survive him long enough to get my first paycheck and disappear. I didn't know that for a man like Xavier, there was no such thing as disappearing. And I certainly didn't know that the sickness in my gut was the one thing that would ensure he never let me go.