Chapter Two: A View from the Top
1347 Words
Elena stood outside the towering glass building that pierced the morning sky like a blade. Duvall Enterprises. The name gleamed in silver letters above her, stark and powerful—just like the man who ruled it.
She straightened her blazer, adjusted the strap of her bag, and exhaled slowly.
“You’ve got this,” she whispered to herself, stepping inside.
The lobby was just as she remembered it—cold, pristine, and humming with quiet authority. Polished floors reflected her heels as she walked toward the security desk, head held high. She handed the receptionist her badge approval, trying not to flinch as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the marble walls.
The woman looking back at her was composed.
But beneath the surface, memories stirred like ghosts.
A staff elevator carried her up fifty stories to the executive floor. The moment the doors opened, a sleek, modern hallway stretched before her. Frosted glass walls, minimalist art, and muted lighting created an air of sophistication and control.
A woman with sharp cheekbones, red lipstick, and an efficient bob looked up from behind a desk.
“You must be Elena Cortez,” she said crisply. “Mr. Duvall is expecting you. I’m Charlotte, his executive coordinator.”
Elena nodded politely. “Nice to meet you.”
Charlotte's smile was razor-thin. “He’ll meet you in the conference room in ten minutes. In the meantime, I’ll show you your office.”
Your office. It sounded surreal.
Charlotte led her down the hall to a corner suite—glass-walled, with a stunning view of the city skyline. A mahogany desk, sleek computer, and a crystal vase with white orchids sat waiting for her.
“Mr. Duvall’s office is just across the hall,” Charlotte added pointedly. “And he values punctuality and precision.”
Message received.
As Charlotte disappeared, Elena dropped her bag and let herself breathe for a moment. The view was breathtaking—but it was the storm brewing inside her that stole her focus.
She didn’t have time to compose herself.
Her office phone buzzed.
> “Conference room. Now.”
—J.D.
No greeting. No pleasantries.
Just like him.
---
Ten Minutes Later
The conference room was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Jaxon stood at the head of the long table, his back to the door, sleeves rolled up, a phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes. I want the Tokyo numbers before noon. No excuses.” He ended the call, then turned to face her.
“You’re early.”
“You said ‘now,’” she replied, her tone cool.
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “Still sharp. I like that.”
Elena walked to the opposite side of the table, placing her notebook down. “What exactly is my role here?”
Jaxon leaned back against the table, arms crossed. “You’ll shadow me. Sit in on key meetings. Handle investor correspondence. There are trust issues with some board members—I need eyes and ears I can count on.”
“You barely know me anymore.”
He looked at her, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “I know enough.”
The air thickened between them.
She forced herself to meet his stare. “Why did you really hire me, Jaxon?”
He didn’t blink. “Because I don’t trust anyone else.”
That wasn’t the whole truth. It never was with him.
But she wasn’t ready to press.
Not yet.
---
Later That Day
Elena’s first meeting was with the board’s senior legal counsel and a venture capitalist from London. She listened, observed, took sharp notes, and fielded pointed questions with a grace that left even Charlotte raising an eyebrow in approval.
But beneath her polished performance, she felt the weight of Jaxon’s gaze every time she spoke—assessing, measuring, remembering.
When the day finally ended, Elena returned to her apartment exhausted but alert. Her phone buzzed with a new message.
> Unknown Number:
Nice first day. You haven’t lost your fire.
—J
She stared at the message, a chill spreading through her.
He was watching her. Closer than she realized.
And she’d just stepped into a game she wasn’t sure she could win.
But she would play.
Because beneath the billionaire’s lies, Elena Cortez was ready to tell her own story.
And it began now.
The following morning, Elena arrived twenty minutes early.
She wanted to prove herself—not to Jaxon, but to the version of herself she had rebuilt from heartbreak and hardship. This job wasn’t just a paycheck. It was a battlefield. And she planned to win.
Charlotte looked up from her desk with the same neutral expression. “Mr. Duvall is in a board strategy call. He left this for you.”
She handed Elena a manila folder. On the cover:
Confidential – Project Phoenix
Inside were documents outlining a mysterious acquisition Jaxon’s team had been quietly negotiating—one that could disrupt a key tech competitor, bring in millions, and shake up the board hierarchy. It was bold, risky, and brilliant.
But something didn’t add up.
Why had she been given access on Day Two?
Why trust her?
She skimmed through legal agreements, merger outlines, and internal risk assessments. Her analytical instincts kicked in. There was a clause buried deep in the annex about liquidation rights. If triggered, it could collapse one of Duvall’s key assets.
And Jaxon’s name was signed beside it.
She looked up, heart racing. Either this was a test… or a trap.
At that moment, Charlotte’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Mr. Duvall will see you now.”
---
Inside His Office
Elena stepped into Jaxon’s office—a sprawling space with clean lines, minimalistic decor, and floor-to-ceiling windows. The only personal touch was a framed photograph on his desk. It was facedown.
“You read the file?” he asked without looking up.
“I did. And I have questions.”
Jaxon leaned back in his chair, finally giving her his full attention. “I expected you would.”
She tossed the folder onto his desk. “Clause 9-B. If the other company defaults, Duvall Tech could take a major hit. Why risk it?”
His gaze sharpened. “You found that in less than thirty minutes. Impressive.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He stood, walked to the window, and folded his hands behind his back. “Because sometimes, Elena, you have to let the fire come close... to see who survives.”
She blinked. “Is that how you run your empire? By setting fires?”
He turned, something dark flickering in his eyes. “It’s not an empire if you’re not willing to burn for it.”
A silence passed between them—heavy, loaded, filled with too much unsaid.
She softened her voice. “Why are you giving me this responsibility so soon?”
“I need someone who isn’t blinded by ambition.” He stepped closer. “Someone I can trust.”
Elena’s throat tightened. “You lost that privilege years ago.”
His jaw clenched. “Then let me earn it back.”
That was the first crack.
The first time he said something real.
But before she could respond, Charlotte entered briskly. “Sir, the London call is ready.”
Jaxon nodded and turned to Elena. “Stay. You’ll sit in.”
And just like that, she was swept into a storm she hadn’t expected to face so soon.
---
That Evening
Elena left the building well after sunset, her mind spinning with contracts, numbers, and glances that felt like whispered memories.
Her phone buzzed again.
> Unknown Number
You're exactly where I need you to be. But can you stay that way?
—J
She stared at the message. The question felt like a warning.
As she walked into the night, the weight of everything pressed down on her chest—secrets, ambition, history, desire.
Whatever game Jaxon was playing, she had no choice now.
She was already inside it.
- Writer
