Falling for the Enemy

Ch.2

Althea's Pov

A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth. My fingers itch, wanting to smack it right off his smug face.

I meet his gaze steadily."I'm excellent at making problems disappear. I'm organized, efficient, and I don't fall apart when things get complicated." I pause, then add, "I also make fantastic coffee."

"Hmm." Something flickers in his expression—not quite amusement, but close. "And you think you can handle working for me?"

There's weight in the question. I know a lot about Eros Valenti that mere rumors cannot—demanding, impossible to please, someone who makes grown professionals cry in bathroom stalls.

But the salary will change my life. And something about the way he's looking at me—like he's genuinely curious about my answer instead of already writing me off—makes me want to rise to whatever challenge he's about to throw at me. "I think you need someone who won't break," I say. "Someone who can match your energy instead of scrambling to keep up with it."

His eyes narrow slightly, reassessing. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped lower. "We'll see about that." He reaches for the coffee I've brought, his fingers brushing mine as he takes the cup. The contact lasts a fraction of a second, but I feel it everywhere.

He takes a sip, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. "Perfect temperature. Where did you get this?"

"Café three blocks north." His eyes sharpen with what might be approval. "Smart. Efficient." He sets down the cup with deliberate precision.

"Let me be very clear about something, Althea. I am not a customer service challenge to be managed with bright smiles and apologies. I am a CEO who expects perfection from everyone in my employ. I have zero tolerance for mistakes, excuses, or attitude."

"Understood."

"I've had twelve assistants in the past two years." His voice drops lower, more intimate despite the professional words.

"They've all found employment elsewhere, usually within their first month. The ones who lasted longer developed... unrealistic expectations about our working relationship." My pulse quickens. "What kind of unrealistic expectations?"

"The kind that involves confusing professional proximity with personal interest." His eyes hold mine. "The kind that led to tears and HR complaints when they realize this job is exactly what it appears to be—work."

I lean forward slightly, drawn by the intensity in his gaze. "Eros, let me be very clear too. I'm here because I need this job. The salary you're offering will change my life. It will give me professional experience that opens doors to a career instead of just a series of jobs."

I pause, holding his stare. "I'm not here to fall for you. I'm here to work for you. And I'm very good at separating business from personal matters." Something flickers in his expression—surprise, maybe, or something that looks almost like disappointment before he locks it down.

"Good to know."

I stand, smoothing my skirt. "Is there anything else you need me to prioritize today?"

"Yes." His voice stops me as I turn toward the door. "Your wardrobe."

I turn back slowly. "Excuse me?"

"You said you can handle this job. That means representing Valenti Global Events at client meetings, vendor consultations, and high-profile events." His gaze travels over me again—slower this time, more deliberate. "You're attractive enough, Althea. But attractive isn't the same as polished." Heat floods through me—part anger, part something I don't want to examine. "I'm aware my wardrobe doesn't match your taxes, Eros."

"Then fix it. The company has several boutiques. Use them." He picks up his phone, dismissing me. "I expect you to look the part of someone who works for me."

I should be furious. I am furious. But underneath the anger is something else—a challenge I can't resist rising to. "Anything else?" I ask coolly.

He glances up, and something hot flashes in his eyes. "That will be all, Althea." I walk to the door, feeling his gaze on me the entire way. When I reach the threshold, I look back. He's watching me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

"Eros?"

"Yes?"

"For the record—I clean up very well. You'll see." I don't wait for his response. Just walk out with my head high and my heart pounding. Behind me, through the glass walls, I can feel him still watching. And despite the arrogance, the demands, the impossible standards—I realize I want to prove him wrong. Want to show him I'm not just another assistant who'll crumble under his expectations. I want to see what happens when Eros Valenti realizes he's finally met his match.

This job might kill me. But something tells me it's going to be one hell of a ride.