CHAPTER 4 🎀
1436 Words
Mika Pov.
The next day, I woke up early. I tried to hide my nervousness by carefully preparing myself. I chose a black blazer and a white blouse, paired with a black pencil-cut skirt. Simple yet elegant. I can do this, I kept telling myself as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
By 7:30 AM, I was already at the Devereux Building. The morning air was still cold, and the lobby was almost empty. The sound of my heels echoed softly against the marble floor. I passed the receptionist, who gave me a small smile.
When I reached Kross Devereux’s office, I took a deep breath before knocking.
“Come in,” his cold voice responded.
I slowly opened the door and saw Kross standing near the window, wearing a black suit that perfectly complemented his confident posture. The morning sunlight streamed through the glass, casting shadows that deepened the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped.
Why does he seem both intimidating and captivating at the same time?
“Mika, you’re early,” he said, still looking out the window.
He must have sensed I was standing there.
“Yes, sir. I wanted to make sure I’m prepared.”
He turned from the window and looked at me with piercing blue eyes — eyes that felt like icy flames, cold but with a hidden warmth beneath. He was silent for a moment as if analyzing every fiber of my being.
“Good. I expect nothing less,” he said. His cold stares did make me shiver.
He walked over to his desk, his steps controlled and authoritative. He sat in his leather chair and gestured to the seat in front of him.
“Sit.”
I quickly obeyed, looking at him while trying to hide my nerves. I needed to stay professional, but how could I when every glance from him felt like a wave pulling me in?
“Let’s go over your responsibilities,” he said. “As my secretary, you’ll handle my schedules, calls, and correspondence. I need efficiency and discretion at all times. You understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Devereux. I understand,” I replied firmly.
“Call me Kross,” he said, his eyes watching me carefully, as though testing my reaction.
I swallowed. Kross. It felt too personal, but I nodded.
“Okay… Kross.”
He gave a faint smile, almost imperceptible, but enough to make warmth creep up my cheeks. What is this, Mika? This is work! Now is not the time to feel giddy over a barely-there smile!
“Let’s start with your first task,” he said, handing me some papers. “Review these reports and give me a summary within the hour.”
I took the papers and stood up. “I’ll get it done.”
“Mika,” he called before I could leave.
I turned. “Yes?”
“Just finish that on time.”
“Yes. Thank you,” I replied, trying to hide my smile.
The hours passed as I immersed myself in work, determined to complete everything perfectly. But no matter how hard I focused, I couldn’t stop thinking about Kross — his cold gaze, his voice that always seemed to carry a hidden meaning. His face was impossibly handsome, and I couldn’t deny it.
When I finished the report, I returned to his office and knocked.
“Come in.”
I entered and handed him the report. “Here’s the summary, sir — I mean, Kross.”
He took the papers and scanned them, his eyes quickly moving over each line. He nodded, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
“Good work,” he said. “You’re more capable than I expected.”
My cheeks flushed. What did he mean by that?
“Thank you,” I replied.
“Have a seat,” he instructed.
I sat across from him, noticing how the space between us now felt smaller. I could almost feel his warmth despite the cold room.
“Mika,” he said carefully, his voice low. “I need someone I can trust. Someone who won’t let emotions get in the way of their work. Can you be that person?”
I nodded, though I felt an odd tension between us. “Yes, I can.”
He stared directly into my eyes, searching for something I couldn’t comprehend. In that moment, everything changed. This wasn’t just a serious work conversation anymore. There was a charged energy in the air.
Why am I feeling like this? The modeling industry was filled with handsome men. But why does Kross feel so different? Why is his presence so overwhelming?
He leaned forward slightly, and I felt my breath catch.
“Mika…” he whispered, and I felt like I might melt in my seat.
I didn’t know what to expect. My cheeks burned, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.
“Yes?” I whispered back.
“Don’t wear that skirt again. It’s too short.”
I froze, glancing down at my skirt — a black pencil skirt that stopped just above my knees. Yes, it was a bit short, but I was comfortable with it. I had chosen to wear it to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid of what others thought anymore. I wanted to wear what I wanted.
“Did it affect you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Why was I letting this get to me? He had just told me not to let emotions interfere with work. But with this one statement, my insecurities rushed back.
“I know it’s not acceptable because the person wearing it isn’t sexy,” I said softly, clinging to the last shred of my dignity. “But I wear what I want. I’m not sexy like the others—”
“Enough,” he cut me off coldly.
His tone felt like a slap. My throat went dry, and I wondered what I had done. Why did I respond that way? Had I forgotten who he was and who I was? He was my boss, and I was just his secretary.
I avoided his gaze, but his presence was still heavy.
After a moment, he sighed, his voice softening slightly.
“You look good in it,” he said, his words sinking into me. “I’m telling you this because I might find it… distracting. I want you to keep yourself safe.”
My throat tightened at his words.
Distracting? Me? Keep me safe?
“I don’t want to f*** you right here and now. You’re new, Mika. I don’t want to mix s*x and work. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, sir,” I whispered, stunned by his words.
What did he just say?
Heat surged through my body. Despite the cold air conditioning, the room felt suffocatingly hot. I didn’t know whether to feel terrified or thrilled. What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind?
I took a deep breath, trying to focus. But how could I, when Kross himself was the distraction?
He walked back to his desk and sat down, his eyes fixed on me, cold yet carrying a spark of something deeper.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he said, his voice cold but cautious. “I need you to stay professional. I’m warning you — this won’t end well if you let emotions get in the way.”
I nodded, fighting to regain control. “I understand, Kross.”
He didn’t reply. We simply stared at each other, and in that silence, the tension only grew thicker, like a fragile thread between work and something unspoken.
He broke the silence. “You may go now.”
I turned and quickly left his office. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, taking a deep breath. My heart was racing, like a drum beating wildly in my chest.
What have I gotten myself into?
I went back to my desk and forced myself to focus on work. I scrolled through emails and arranged Kross’s appointments. But no matter how hard I tried, his words echoed in my mind.
“I don’t want to f*** you right here and now.”
Those words played on a loop, like a broken record. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and emotions. I knew this was work, but how could I fight what I was feeling? Every time I saw him, I felt like I was on the edge of losing control.
- Writer
