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1187 Words
I told myself I could handle him.How naïve of me.
It was my first official day at De Luca Enterprises, and I was already walking on a thin line I’d pretended not to see. The man was magnetic in a way that should’ve come with a warning label.
Still, I refused to let him rattle me.
I arrived early partly to make an impression, mostly to avoid running into him alone in an elevator. The lobby was as sleek as yesterday, the hum of wealth and power echoing through every marble tile. I flashed my new ID badge, passed through security, and rode to the top floor, mentally rehearsing boundaries and rules I probably wouldn’t keep.
Rule one: Don’t let him get under your skin.
Rule two: Don’t look at his mouth when he talks.
Rule three: Absolutely, under no circumstances, should you enjoy any of this.
The doors slid open with a soft chime, and a blonde woman at the front desk gave me a bright, rehearsed smile. “Good morning, Ms. Hawthorne. Mr. De Luca requested you meet him in the boardroom.”
Requested.
Right.
I adjusted the strap of my bag. “Lead the way.”
She gestured to a set of glass double doors. Through them, I saw him standing at the head of a long table, sleeves rolled to his elbows, focus sharp as he reviewed a presentation on the screen. Even from across the room, the sight of him did something reckless to my pulse.
“Good morning,” I managed, my voice steady.
Lorenzo looked up, and that calm, assessing gaze landed on me. “Miss Hawthorne.” He gestured to the chair beside him not across the table, beside him I definitely didn’t expect that. “I trust you’re ready.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For chaos.”
He didn’t smile, but his tone was dry enough that I almost did. Almost.
I sat down, pulling out my tablet as a small group of executives filed in. All men. All older. All with that look the one that questioned what I was doing there.
Lorenzo didn’t introduce me. He didn’t have to. His silence did the job: She’s with me.
The meeting started. Profit margins, partnerships, strategy the air was heavy with numbers and jargon. I kept up easily, adding notes, quietly observing the way Lorenzo commanded the room without raising his voice. It wasn’t what he said. It was how he said it calm, sure, final.
When one of the execs interrupted him mid-sentence, I saw the smallest shift in his expression amusement, not anger.
“Mr. Yates,” Lorenzo said smoothly, “if you’re going to contradict me, at least make sure you’ve read the quarterly report.”
The man’s face went red. The rest of the table went silent while some snickered quietly.
Lorenzo glanced my way, just once, like he knew I was watching like he wanted me to.
By the end of the meeting, my notes were flawless, my composure intact. But my heart was another story. I followed him back to his office, pretending not to notice the subtle glances we drew as we passed.
He gestured for me to close the door behind us. I did. Slowly.
“You handled that well,” he said, settling behind his desk.
“Yes I did and I took notes.”
“You also didn’t look away when I challenged Yates. Most people do.”
“I’m not most people.”I said rolling my eyes
“Don’t do that again” he said
“Do what,this?” I rolled my eyes again.
He leaned back a quick shift in his eyes that if I wasn’t looking I would have missed, fingers steepled and continued. “No, you’re not most people.”
For a moment, silence. Not awkward charged. Like the room itself was holding its breath.
Then he said, “Tell me, Sophia. Why did you really take this job?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t strike me as someone who likes answering to anyone and your father has enough companies and he’s sitting on fortunes. Especially not to me.”
“You make it sound like a weakness.”
He smiled small, lethal. “I make it sound like a truth.”
I met his gaze, refusing to flinch. “I took this job because I’m good at what I do. And because challenges make me better.”
“Good answer.”
“I wasn’t looking for your approval.”
“You weren’t, but you earned it anyway.”
My jaw tightened. He had this way of saying things that felt like a compliment and a provocation in the same breath.
“Is that all, Mr. De Luca?”
“For now.” His eyes lingered. “You’ll be accompanying me to the gala this Friday. Corporate representation.”
A gala. Of course.
I lifted a brow. “Is that part of my job description?”
“Everything I ask is part of your job description.”
The arrogance was breathtaking almost artistic. “And what exactly am I representing?”
“Competence,” he said. “And restraint.”
I laughed softly. “That last one might be asking too much.”
“I’m counting on it.”
He turned back to his computer, dismissing me without words. I took that as my cue to leave before I said something dangerous or worse, enjoyed the way he looked at me.
By the time lunch came around, I’d already answered twenty-three emails, reorganized his schedule, and politely declined an invite from the head of marketing who’d clearly mistaken me for an intern.
When I stepped into the break room, two assistants fell quiet mid-conversation. One of them smiled, awkward and fake. “You’re new.”
I smiled back. “Observant.”
They exchanged glances, clearly not expecting me to have teeth. I made my coffee, ignoring the whispers behind me.
Apparently, working for Lorenzo De Luca came with its own mythology. Half the building feared him. The other half worshipped him. I wasn’t planning to do either.
Back in his office, I found him standing by the window again, phone in hand, city light painting his profile. He looked over when I entered the smallest shift in his expression, like he’d been waiting for me without realizing it.
“Everything handled?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He nodded once. “Good. You’ll need that efficiency tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Dinner with investors. Seven o’clock. Wear something that says capable.”
“Define capable.”
He glanced up, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “You’ll figure it out.”
I arched a brow. “You really enjoy testing people, don’t you?”
“Only the ones who can handle it.”
I should’ve walked away. I should’ve ended the conversation right there.
But the thing about lines and boundaries? They blur when someone knows exactly how to cross them.
And Lorenzo De Luca he didn’t just cross them. He made me want to follow.
- Writer
