His Terms

*Chapter 3: The First Rule

Monday morning came too fast.

Elena stood outside Vance Holdings at 7:58 AM in a black blazer she’d borrowed from her roommate. The tower was all glass and wind. Her internship badge felt heavy around her neck.

`INTERN - ELENA CARTER - 40TH FLOOR`

Her phone buzzed. Josh. `Good luck today. Text me at lunch?`

She typed `yes` and deleted it. She didn’t know what her lunch would look like anymore.

The elevator was empty. The 40th floor was empty too, except for a woman at a desk who didn’t look up.

“Mr. Vance will see you at 9,” she said. “Sit.”

Elena sat.

At 9:02, his door opened. Damian was already on a call, voice low, suit dark. He gestured her in without breaking eye contact with whoever was on the line.

“Miss Carter,” he said, covering the phone. “You’re on time. Good.”

He ended the call. The office was cold. Floor to ceiling windows. No photos. No clutter. Just a desk, a chair, and him.

“Your schedule,” he said, sliding a folder across the desk. Not an email. Not a form. Paper. “You’ll shadow me. You’ll take notes. You’ll be present when I say you’ll be present.”

She opened it. Lectures, study groups, track practice with Josh. All of it would have to move around this.

“I have classes,” she said carefully. “And I’m on campus most afternoons.”

“I know.” He leaned back. “You’ll miss what you have to miss.”

The words landed like a weight. She thought of Josh waiting at the coffee cart outside the Economics building. He’d text her at noon and she wouldn’t be able to answer.

Damian watched her. “Problem?”

“No,” she said, too quickly.

“Liar.”

Her head snapped up.

“You think I don’t see it,” he said. “The boyfriend. The campus. The normal life you’re afraid to lose.” He stood and walked to the window. “That life doesn’t pay your brother’s tuition, Miss Carter.”

She swallowed. “You said outside hours. It’s nine in the morning.”

“This is hour one.”

He turned. “Rule one. When you’re with me, you’re with me. No phone. No excuses. No f**king boyfriend.”

The last word hit hard. She’d been expecting rules about work. Not about him.

“I can’t just—”

“You can.” His voice didn’t raise. “Or you can take the elevator back down. The choice was Sunday.”

Outside, the campus was starting its day. She could picture Josh walking to class, saving her a seat.

Her phone buzzed in her blazer pocket. Once. Twice. Josh.

Damian’s eyes dropped to it. Then back to her.

“Rule one,” he said again.

Her hand shook as she pulled the phone out. She stared at his name on the screen. `Josh: You made it?`

She pressed silent. And slid the phone into her bag.

Damian said nothing. He just opened his laptop. “Sit. We’re starting.”

She sat.

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