BILLIONAIRE'S SPOILED MRS

Chapter 6: Working for Mr Blackwood

The heavy oak door clicked open, and the air in the room suddenly felt twice as cold. Cassian Blackwood walked in, his presence filling the office like a dark shadow. He didn't look at Maeve immediately; he was focused on a tablet in his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Maeve felt her heart thumping against her ribs, but she forced her body to remain still. She stood up gracefully, smoothing out her white shirt. "Good morning, Mr. Blackwood," she said, her voice steady and professional.

Cassian didn't offer a smile. He didn't even offer a "good morning." He simply let out a low, disinterested hum and walked past her to his massive leather chair. He sat down, leaning back and finally fixing those piercing blue eyes on her.

Maeve sat back down, crossing her long legs. She refused to let him intimidate her. "I’m ready to begin," she said, meeting his gaze.

The next hour was a whirlwind of formalities. Cassian tossed several thick documents across the desk for her to sign. He spoke rapidly, explaining the timeline for the new luxury hotel development. His voice was deep and smooth, but his tone was sharp.

"The Williams empire might be built on glitter and parties, but here, we build on precision," Cassian said, his eyes scanning a blueprint. "I expect you to handle the interior design vendors and the VIP guest relations. If one crystal chandelier is the wrong shade of gold, it’s on your head."

Maeve leaned forward, pointing to a section of the plan. "And what about the rooftop lounge? The current layout feels... crowded. For the price these guests are paying, they want space, not to be rubbing shoulders with strangers."

Cassian didn't even look at the spot she was pointing to. "The layout is optimized for profit, Miss Williams. Stick to what you’re told."

Maeve felt a surge of her old temper. "It’s a hotel, Cassian, not a sardine can," she muttered under her breath. She leaned back and scoffed, whispering just loud enough for the air to catch it, "Typical man. Thinks a spreadsheet knows more about luxury than a woman who actually lives it."

The room went deathly silent.

Maeve realized she had let her "spoiled" side slip out. She slowly raised her head, expecting him to be looking at his papers, but he wasn't. Cassian was staring directly at her. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight. He looked like a predator who had just heard a twig snap in the woods.

Maeve felt a flush of heat rise to her neck. She let out a small, fake cough to break the tension and shifted in her seat.

"If we are done with the paperwork," she said, trying to regain her professional mask, "where exactly will my office be? I assume I won't be working from the lobby."

Cassian continued to stare at her for a few more seconds, his gaze lingering on her face before he finally stood up. He walked around the desk, stopping just a few inches away from her. The scent of his expensive cologne—sandalwood and cold rain—filled her senses.

"You’ll be right where I can see you," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Marcus will show you to the office directly connected to mine. I want to make sure you’re actually working, and not just shopping online on my time."

Maeve stood up, matching his height as best she could in her heels. She gave him a sharp, arrogant smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Blackwood. I think you'll find that I'm much more than just a pretty face in a white shirt. Try to keep up."

She turned on her heel and walked toward the door, feeling his eyes on her back the entire way. She was officially in his world now, and the game had truly begun.