Aurum Veil

Chapter 1: The Interview

The rain had been falling since last night, a cold, unstopping downpour that made the city skyline not visible in shades of silver and gray.

Amara held tightly to her thin folder to her chest, the paper inside threatening to curl from the damp. Her shoes were soaked from the rain, her heart beating very fast, she had almost missed the subway, and her umbrella had flipped inside out halfway across Fifth Avenue. She is going for an interview today.

Today was not just any interview.

It was with Sterling & Cross, one of the most powerful corporate empires in the country… and the man at the top was practically a legend.

Or a nightmare known for his rude attitude.

Depending on who you asked, for Mr. Cross descriptions.

She had read the articles: Alexander Cross, a thirty-four years well built man, known for his extraordinarily handsome face and his muscular features, who is a billionaire CEO, self-made after inheriting a crumbling company at twenty-six years and turning it into an empire which is now the top among other empires. Handsome in a way that was almost cruel. Brilliant. Ruthless. And, according to gossip, utterly impossible to please,not even slightly.

The receptionist did not smile when Amara approached the marble front desk.

“What is the name?”she asked with a stern look towards Amara.

“I am Amara Lane. For the eleven o’clock with,”

Her voice faltered. She did not want to sound nervous, but her throat was already very dry.

“…with Mr. Cross.”

The woman’s expression did not soften a bit. "You are late.”

“I am ,” Amara glanced at the clock. “Only for three minutes.”

“Mr. Cross does not do ‘late.’”

The receptionist’s voice was so clipped it could have sliced through a paper. She picked up the phone, murmured something Amara couldn’t hear, then looked up. “You can go in. Top floor. Don’t waste his time,that is an advice.”

The elevator ride was silent except for the low hum of the machinery. Amara stared closely at her reflection in the mirrored wall , her hair was damp from the rain, the curls frizzing at the edges, and she hated that she looked exactly how she felt: a little desperate, a little out of place,but she needed the job.

When the doors slid wide open, she stepped into a world that felt far removed from the storm outside. The office stretched in sleek lines of glass and steel, the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a dizzying view of the city below.

And there he was,the man she heard so much about.

Alexander Cross stood at the far end, speaking into a phone with one hand in his pocket, his suit a deep charcoal that looked like it had been cut specifically for him which, of course, it definitely had. His presence filled the space, quiet but commanding and magnificent.

He didn’t look up when she approached.

“Lane, Amara,” he said, his voice low, deep, as if he already knew every detail about her life. He set the phone down without glancing at her. “You are late Ms. Lane,”he said.

She straightened her spine. “Only by—”

“I said you are late,” he repeated, eyes finally lifting to meet hers. They were a cold, startling gray, the kind of eyes that did not just look at you, but through you, scanning everything inside. “In my world, three minutes is the difference between closing a billion-dollar deal and losing everything.”

Her pulse stumbled. She wanted to shrink under his gaze, but something stubborn inside her refused to succumb.

“Then I suppose I will have to make the next thirty minutes worth your time,” she said evenly.

His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but something else.

“We will see.

Alexander Cross gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.

“Sit Ms. Lane.”

The word was not rude. It wasn’t kind either. It was… efficient. Like he had calculated the shortest path from problem to solution and expected her to keep up.

Amara crossed the glossy floor and lowered herself into the chair. Her fingers tightened on her folder, but she refused to let him see how unsettled she felt.

He leaned back in his chair, studying her like a puzzle he was not sure was worth solving.

“You have applied for the executive assistant position.”

“Yes Sir," she replied.”

“You have no experience in this field.”

“I have organizational skills, a degree, and—”

“I read your résumé.” His gaze did not leave hers. “You worked as a barista, a bookstore clerk, and an unpaid intern for a start-up that folded in six months.”

She swallowed. “I learn very quickly.”

His eyebrow lifted, as if testing that claim. “Why Sterling & Cross?”

“Because I need the money. Because I need stability. Because this is the only chance I have to get my life back on track”,that was what she said in her head.

Instead, she said, “Because I want to work for the best of the best.”

Something flickered in his eyes — approval? Amusement? She could not tell.

“You understand this is not a nine-to-five hour job,” he said. “I expect availability at all hours. I expect discretion. And I expect results before excuses.”

“I can handle that.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Most people can’t handle me, Ms. Lane.”

Her pulse jumped at the challenge in his voice. She held his gaze. “Then maybe most people aren’t me.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city stretched out behind him in silver and glass, the rain blurring the edges of everything but the intensity in his eyes.

Then, without warning, he stood. “Follow me.”

She blinked. “Where—”

“Do you want the job or not?”

She rose quickly, clutching her folder, and followed him out of the office. The elevator opened, and he stepped in without looking back.

As the doors slid shut, Amara realized she had no idea where he was taking her — only that whatever came next was going to decide everything, whether she gets the job or go back to where she started.