Chapter 2
924 Words
Beneath the Surface
The door clicked shut behind her, and Ava was still in disbelief.
Was that real?
Had Damian Blackwood, the untouchable billionaire CEO, actually given her a job?
The receptionist—Camille—was now gaping at her like she’d sprouted wings. Ava didn’t say a word. She simply clutched her bag and followed the directions Mr. Blackwood had given her:
Administrative Division – 14th Floor.
The elevator ride felt longer than it should have. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirrored walls—wide brown eyes, cheeks still flushed, hair slightly frazzled. She looked like someone who had just stumbled into another life. And maybe she had.
When the doors opened, a tall, silver-haired woman greeted her with a clipboard tucked into the crook of her arm and the kind of efficient energy Ava instantly recognized.
“You must be Ava Hart,” the woman said briskly. “I’m Ms. Grant. Mr. Blackwood said you’d be joining us. You’re lucky. He doesn’t usually… involve himself with new hires.”
Ava forced a polite smile, unsure how to respond to that.
Ms. Grant didn’t wait. She turned and walked, expecting Ava to follow. “We’ll start with orientation. Your desk is in the outer admin wing—third cubicle from the right. You’ll be assisting our junior project officers and handling document organization. If you don’t know how to do something, ask.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ava murmured, grateful for the structure. She needed something to hold on to.
The office floor buzzed with activity. Everyone moved fast, spoke quietly, and wore confidence like perfume. Ava sank into her borrowed desk chair and stared at the monitor in front of her. It felt surreal. Just this morning, she hadn’t even known if she could afford to eat dinner. Now she had an employee ID badge clipped to her lapel.
She started small—emails, filing systems, internal calendars. She read everything three times to avoid mistakes. She couldn’t afford even one.
By noon, she was behind but determined. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, her stomach growled, but she didn’t take a break.
Not until her screen pinged with a new message.
From: d.blackwood@blackwoodintl.com
Subject: 2:30 Meeting
“Conference Room 9B. Bring your current workload. — D”
Ava’s heart dropped into her stomach.
She re-read the message three times. Was this a mistake? A prank?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Should she reply? Should she confirm? But… the signature was real. D. Blackwood.
She showed up at 2:29, clutching a neatly organized folder and praying she wouldn’t embarrass herself.
He was already seated inside—alone. No assistants, no executives. Just him.
She stepped in cautiously. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Blackwood?”
His eyes lifted from his tablet. “Close the door.”
The air shifted. Ava did as told.
“Sit.”
She obeyed. Her folder shook slightly in her hands.
He looked at her for a long moment, then said, “You didn’t eat lunch.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You haven’t left your desk since this morning. No one works well on an empty stomach.”
Was that… concern?
“I’m fine,” she said quickly.
He didn’t respond. Just tapped the table. “Your folder.”
She handed it over. He flipped through the pages with practiced ease. When he looked up again, his expression was unreadable.
“You’ve got a sharp eye for detail. You caught two scheduling errors in the master file.”
She straightened, surprised. “I—I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“I notice everything,” he said flatly. “That’s why I’m sitting here and the rest of them are chasing bonuses.”
Ava’s fingers clenched in her lap. “I just want to do well.”
His gaze pierced hers. “Why?”
The question caught her off guard.
“Because I need this job.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She hesitated. “Because I need to prove I’m more than just a sob story.”
Something flickered in his eyes again—something that vanished before she could name it.
“I’ve seen a lot of people crawl through that door, Miss Hart,” he said. “They beg, they flatter, they lie. You didn’t lie. You were just… desperate.”
Her cheeks burned.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped—”
“I’m not criticizing you,” he cut in. “Desperation makes people dangerous. Sometimes, it makes them useful.”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
“You’ve been given a chance most don’t get,” he continued. “Don’t waste it.”
Ava nodded quickly. “I won’t.”
“Good. Now go eat something before you pass out and become HR’s problem.”
She stood, stunned. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood.”
But just as she reached the door, he said her name again.
“Miss Hart.”
She turned.
His voice dropped an octave. “You clean up well. You should wear your hair down more often.”
Her breath caught.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t wink. He simply turned back to his tablet as if he hadn’t just said something that made her insides twist.
Ava walked out, pulse racing.
She didn’t know what game Damian Blackwood was playing—or if it even was a game. But one thing was clear:
Her new boss wasn’t just powerful.
He was dangerous.
And she might already be in too deep.
!
- Writer
