chapter 3
1025 Words
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The glass tower looked different from the inside.
It wasn't just the pristine floors or the intimidating silence of wealth—it was the weight. The kind of pressure that came from knowing one wrong move could cost you everything. Daisy adjusted her blazer and tried not to gape at the sheer scale of the place.
Robert International wasn’t just an empire—it was a fortress. And now she was walking straight into its heart.
"Miss Almond?"
She turned at the clipped voice of a receptionist who looked like she could end a war with one glance.
"Welcome to Robert International. Mr. Robert is expecting you. Top floor."
Of course he was.
Daisy forced a polite smile, stepped into the private elevator, and as the doors slid shut, she exhaled hard.
Breathe, Almond. You’re not here to gawk. You’re here to watch, to learn… to win.
The elevator glided upward in silence, climbing past floors filled with polished ambition. When it finally stopped, she was greeted by a minimalist hallway—marble floors, frosted glass walls, soft lighting. Modern. Cold.
Just like him.
Before she could knock, the door opened.
Charles stood behind his desk, arms folded, that same unreadable look on his face.
“You’re late,” he said.
She checked her watch. “By two minutes.”
“In my world, two minutes cost millions.”
“In mine, two minutes gets you better opening lines,” she replied smoothly.
He didn’t smile, but something in his expression shifted. Amused, maybe. Or intrigued. She couldn’t tell, and that infuriated her more than it should.
“Come in.”
She stepped into his office—and stopped. The view alone was enough to silence anyone. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the entire city like a trophy.
“You like to feel above it all, don’t you?” she murmured.
“It’s the only way to see the whole board,” he said. “Sit.”
She sat, crossing one leg over the other with forced ease.
“Here’s how this works,” Charles said. “You’ll shadow my operations. Meetings, negotiations, logistics. Total access. In return, you observe without interference. No publishing until the end of the week.”
“And then?”
“Then, you write what you want.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Even if it destroys you?”
“If it’s true? Yes.”
He said it so easily. That was the problem. He was always so damn sure.
“And if I find nothing?” she asked.
“Then maybe the monster you’re hunting doesn’t exist.”
She didn’t respond. Not yet. Not until she understood the game.
Charles pressed a button on his desk, and a young woman entered with a sleek tablet.
“This is Jenna, my executive assistant. She’ll be your point of contact.”
“Daisy,” Jenna greeted her with a small smile. “Welcome to the lion’s den.”
That earned a real smirk from Charles. Daisy rolled her eyes.
As Jenna led her out of the office, Daisy glanced back. Charles was already at his desk, eyes on the skyline like he hadn’t just invited a threat into his sanctuary.
---
The day was a blur of meetings, documents, and introductions. Daisy kept her expression neutral and her recorder discreet. But behind every polite nod, her mind was racing.
These people worshipped Charles. He didn’t command respect. He embodied it. Every executive in the room leaned toward him. Every assistant moved like the air shifted with his presence.
She hated how impressive it was.
By noon, she was exhausted.
“You’re handling this better than most,” Jenna said, walking beside her with two cups of coffee.
“I’ve survived newsroom riots and city hall standoffs,” Daisy replied, accepting the cup gratefully. “This is just corporate cosplay.”
Jenna laughed. “Fair enough. Just don’t let him get in your head.”
“He’s already trying.”
Jenna gave her a look. “He tries with everyone. The difference is, he usually wins.”
---
Later that afternoon, Charles summoned her again.
She entered his office to find him at the window, phone pressed to his ear.
“No, I said restructure. If the numbers don’t work, make them.” He paused. “Because failure’s not an option. And if you can’t handle that, I’ll find someone who can.”
Click.
He turned, expression unreadable. “You look like you have questions.”
“I have many,” Daisy said, sitting without being told. “But let’s start with this—why me?”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve called you corrupt, manipulative, and dangerous. Publicly.”
He moved to the minibar and poured a glass of something dark. “And that makes you honest. Which is rare.”
She blinked. “You want me here because I insulted you?”
“No,” he said, sipping slowly. “I want you here because you don’t flinch. Everyone else does.”
That stopped her. Just for a moment.
“You enjoy testing people,” she said.
“I enjoy knowing who’s worth keeping.”
“And what happens to the ones who fail your test?”
“They don’t last long.”
She stood. “Well, I’m not here to last. I’m here to learn.”
He met her gaze, and for the first time, she saw something rawer than arrogance. Something like… interest.
“Then learn quickly, Daisy Almond. I’m not a patient man.”
---
The week stretched on with tension thick as fog. Daisy documented everything—his ruthless precision, the seamless way he ran his empire, the occasional flashes of kindness that made no sense with his reputation.
But what got to her most was him.
He was infuriating. Brilliant. Cold. And underneath it all, too human for her comfort.
One evening, she caught him staring out the window, face unreadable.
“You ever stop pretending you don’t care?” she asked.
He didn’t look away. “You ever stop pretending you don’t?”
She hated how quiet the room went after that.
---
- Writer
