**CHAPTER THREE** **CHLOE** Shielding my eyes against the brightness, I tilt my head back to behold the towering edifice of steel and glass that is King Plaza. This is it—the headquarters of the King Group and the venue for my interview today. There's an aura of intimidation that hangs heavily in the air; it's a colossus that demands respect. When the recruitment agency reached out to me about a position that needed to be filled urgently, I seized the opportunity like a lifeline. I needed this. It had been two weeks since Geoff had unceremoniously cut ties with me, and in that time, I found myself glued to job listings, scouring every corner of the online world for a new chance. For fourteen mornings in a row, I’ve awakened with a tight grip of anxiety clawing at my chest, a remnant of the dark days following Mom's abrupt departure when I was just fourteen. At that time, Dad was still painting, lost in a world of colors, but when she walked out of our lives, it felt like the very foundation of our existence had cracked. The stark reality of how swiftly life can alter struck me then, highlighting the fragility of our circumstances. But I can’t linger in the past now; it’s time to step forward. Inhaling deeply, I square my shoulders and stride purposefully toward the entrance. Crossing the threshold, I make my way to the security desk, my heels clicking against the polished black marble floor, each sound reverberating in the cavernous foyer. “Hi,” I announce to the stern man stationed behind the counter. “I’m Chloe Callahan, here for an interview with Lena Harris.” “Chloe?” The smooth, feminine voice draws my attention, and I turn to see an older woman with curly black hair and perceptive brown eyes extending her hand. “I’m Lena.” A warm smile breaks across my face as I shake her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Follow me,” she gestures, leading me toward a sleek bank of elevators. Once inside the stainless-steel car, the atmosphere thickens with electricity as three tall men stride in behind us. I recognize them immediately—the very executives I've studied intensively in my research. Cole King, the dark-haired chief of operations, stands with an air of quiet authority beside his brother Tate, the chief of marketing, whose golden-brown eyes seem almost playful. But it’s the third man who captures my full attention—Roman King, the enigmatic CEO, and my potential new boss. The photographs hadn’t prepared me for the reality. At easily six-three or six-four, his commanding presence feels magnified in person. The impeccably tailored charcoal suit clings to his broad shoulders, and his nearly black hair is styled to perfection. With a jawline that could carve stone, he is undeniably the most breathtaking man I have ever laid eyes on. As the elevator doors shudder to a close, his piercing gaze momentarily locks onto mine, sharp and unreadable. My heart races as those wolf-gray eyes meticulously trace the lines of my body—a burning influx of heat surging through my veins. When our gazes meet again, a subtle tension thrums in the air, though I quickly dismiss it. His expression remains stony, with only a barely perceptible narrowing of his breathtaking eyes giving me pause. “Good morning, Roman,” Lena chirps, breaking the spell, and I can’t help but notice how his attention snaps to her as if he has just acknowledged her presence. “Looks like you’ll have a chance to meet one of your prospective assistants.” Once again, his focus shifts to me, laser-like in intensity. “Is that right?” His voice is deep and smooth, a comforting cadence that belies the enigmatic nature of his expression. The air of tension that flickered between us before seems to dissipate entirely—and perhaps it was never there at all. Swallowing the dryness coating my throat, I force my hand forward, summoning the warmest smile I can muster. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. King.” He hesitates, just for a heartbeat, before his large hand engulfs mine. “Nice to meet you.” I half-expect his skin to be cold to the touch—like some aloof, debonair vampire—but instead, his palm feels warm and solid, sending a shiver up my spine that I can’t quite comprehend. Before I can dissect that flicker of reaction, he releases my hand. The elevator grinds to a halt, and the doors glide open. Lena gestures, “This is us.” I offer Roman one last smile, but he has already turned back to his brothers, leaving me to grapple with a sudden wave of disappointment. It’s a shame; he is undeniably captivating, but his disregard is disheartening. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise. Working for a man that mesmerizing, who could charm the stars from the sky, runs the risk of developing a crush. And everyone knows that crushing on the boss is a recipe for disaster. As the doors slide closed behind us, I fall into step beside Lena, clearing my throat in a bid to regain my composure. “Is Mr. King always so…” I search for the right word to encapsulate the formidable impact of his presence. Lena chuckles lightly. “Intense? That might sum it up nicely. But I’d say a more fitting word is driven. He’s one of the most accomplished businessmen I’ve ever met, but his focus is unparalleled, meaning he expects the same from everyone who works for him.” “That won’t be an issue,” I assure her, although the worry about Dad’s care niggles at the edge of my thoughts. Lena ushers me into a smaller, exquisitely furnished office, motioning toward two plush couches facing each other over a sleek glass coffee table. Settling on one of the couches, I glance toward the door. “Mr. King isn’t joining us?” “Unfortunately, no. His schedule is packed to the brim. But he trusts me to select a suitable candidate.” A mix of relief and uncertainty washes over me at the prospect that my potential boss won’t be evaluating me. Had he been here, scrutinizing me with those stormy eyes, I might have stumbled over my words. “So,” Lena prompts with a welcoming smile. “Tell me a bit about yourself.” The ensuing twenty minutes unfold with discussions of my education and past work experiences. I tread carefully when she inquires about Geoff, mindful not to cast a negative light on my previous employer. “So, you worked at Talon for three years. What prompted your departure?” she asks. The familiar pressure in my chest returns. “The company was acquired, leading to significant layoffs—including my position.” She hums thoughtfully—likely a detail she was already privy to from the recruitment agency. “Now, have you—” Suddenly, my phone vibrates violently from my purse, shattering the silence. Oh no. In my anxious haste, I forgot to silence it. Normally, I keep my phone on in case Dad needs me, so this lapse is not typical. “I’m terribly sorry.” I scramble in my bag, hoping that the caller is merely a nuisance. But when I finally retrieve my phone and see Dad’s name flashing on the screen, a wave of dread washes over me. “I’m so sorry,” I repeat, my voice tinged with urgency. “I need to take this.” Lena arches an eyebrow but nods, granting me the moment. I swipe my thumb across the screen, pressing the phone to my ear. “Is everything alright?” Susan’s voice comes through, slightly nasal and tinged with concern. “Your father took a little spill. I’ve given him some pain relief, and he seems fine, but I thought you should know—just in case you were planning to take your time getting home.” My grip tightens around the phone. She knows I don’t meander around town without good reason; my social life has all but evaporated since Dad’s health began to decline a few years ago. But I need her help, and so I take a breath, tempering my tone. “Okay, thank you for the heads-up. Can you stay with him until I get home? I won’t be too long.” She grudgingly agrees, and with my stomach tied in knots, I hang up. It’s not Dad’s fault, but the timing of this fall couldn’t be worse. I can almost feel the chance at this job slipping away, especially after Lena’s earlier comment about focus. I return the phone to my purse, offering Lena an apologetic look. “Children?” she inquires, her voice laced with unexpected sympathy. “My father,” I explain with a resigned sigh. “He suffers from rheumatoid arthritis and fell.” “You live with him, then?” “Yes. I moved in a couple of years ago to help.” “I apologize for the interruption,” I continue, anxiety creeping in. “I understand if I’ve wasted your—” She holds up a hand, halting my words. “Not so fast. You have someone depending on you at home; that’s understandable. I’ve been there myself.” “I appreciate that, but I don’t think this situation is ideal,” I reply, fatigue lacing my tone. She shrugs. “No situation is perfect, and we all have people who rely on us—children, parents, even employees. Honestly, knowing you’ve stepped up to care for your father endears you to me even more.” Gradually, the knots in my stomach loosen a bit. “I still need to ask you this: does this kind of thing happen often? Should I expect you to leave the office during the workday?” “No,” I assure her. “He’s generally very careful. This is only the second time he’s fallen since I moved in.” “Okay,” Lena notes, her gaze shifting to the paperwork before her. “You’re young—probably younger than we commonly consider for an executive assistant position. But your college transcript is impressive, and the HR department from your last job provided a glowing reference. Plus, the fact that you’re taking care of your father tells me you’re dedicated and hard-working. In my opinion,” she adds with a wry smile, “you have your priorities straight, which is more than I can say for some in this building.” Her expression causes me to ponder who she might be referring to. Tilting her head as if appraising something, she says, “I like you for this position, Chloe. I think you might be just the fresh breath of air we need around here. But if you’re hired, you may find that the hours could stretch longer than you’re used to. Given your responsibilities, would you be comfortable with that?” My mind spins, assessing the delicate balance of the situation. Yes, the job may demand longer hours, but the pay is considerably better than what I earned at Talon. With this position, I could finally afford Dad’s medication—and perhaps even explore newer treatments to help him regain his independence. That alone is worth requesting Susan’s help a bit more often, however irritable she may be. And I know she’ll appreciate the extra income. “I’m comfortable,” I reply confidently. “I have a care arrangement that can accommodate early starts or late hours.” Lena smiles warmly. “Perfect. I have a few more interviews lined up for this afternoon, but I’ll get back to you by the end of the day or early tomorrow.” “Of course, that’s absolutely fine.” As I step out of King Plaza moments later, a buoyant feeling washes over me. This opportunity could be the breakthrough my family desperately needs. Yet, the weight of Susan’s call looms in my mind, and I hasten my pace. With his joints as stiff and painful as they are, any fall can have serious consequences for Dad. Fortunately, upon returning home, the familiar grumpiness of Dad and Susan’s mild exasperation indicate that all is well. As I walk her to the door, I cautiously broach the topic of potentially working longer hours. She grumbles initially but relents when I assure her of appropriate compensation. Being retired, she spends most of her days at home; apart from checking in on Dad, she usually observes the neighborhood from her window, indulging her role as the unofficial watchperson. Keeping her busy with this arrangement might offer her the stimulation she needs. Once she leaves, I fuss over Dad, ensuring he’s as comfortable as possible. Noticing that his knee appears swollen and warm to the touch, I fetch an icepack from the freezer and gently place it on the affected joint. After preparing lunch, I settle on the edge of the couch closest to him and share the details of my interview. However, as I recount my brief interaction with my potential new boss, I see a frown darkening his features. “Are you sure you’ll be alright working for someone like that?” he asks, concern deepening his voice. “Of course,” I reply firmly. “Regardless of how driven or focused he may be, I’m sure he won’t be unreasonable. Lena has worked with him for years, and she seemed lovely.” Dad’s skepticism lingers, but he concedes with a nod. “Alright, love. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that you land the job then.” The rest of the afternoon stretches out as I fight to distract myself, limiting my phone checks to two, making sure it’s charged and set to ring this time—unlike during my interview. Finally, just before dinner, my phone buzzes, and my heart leaps. “Hello?” I answer, breathless with hope. “Hi, Chloe. It’s Lena.” Her cheerful tone makes my breath hitch. I hold my breath, unwilling to let myself hope too much. “I’m thrilled to inform you that you’ve got the job.” Relief floods through me, sharp and exhilarating. “Thank you so much!” “Since you’re currently not working, could you start first thing on Monday?” My pulse quickens, but I nod resolutely, even though she can’t see me. “Yes, of course.” “Fantastic! I won’t be there to help you get settled, but Sophie, one of the other executive assistants, will show you around.” “Of course, that’s absolutely fine.” She hesitates, bringing a note of seriousness to her voice. “Look, I believe you’ll be a terrific assistant for Roman. But, as you’ve likely already experienced, he can be a bit… abrupt. Don’t let him intimidate you. He’ll undoubtedly recognize your capabilities, but until then, you may need to demonstrate just how capable you truly are.” Nervous anticipation flutters in my stomach as I envision those impassive gray eyes, but I nod firmly. “I think I can handle that.” A chuckle escapes her lips. “You’re going to do just fine.” As she outlines what to expect on Monday, I can only hope she is absolutely right.