Seduction On The 80Th Floor Free Preview

The splendor of Manhattan's elite was reflected in each crystal chandelier as the huge ballroom glistened under a thousand golden lights. Regret and champagne were consuming Genevieve Montgomery.

With a glass of glittering treachery in her quivering fingers, she stood at the edge of the party, dressed in a sapphire gown that accentuated every curve. Expensive fragrance and the aroma of roses filled the air, and the sound of laughter served as a harsh reminder of her purpose.

Christian Alden, the man who had whispered promises on her skin and broken them in the same breath, was standing in the middle of the room. He raised a glass, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light of the ballroom. "To my soulmate," he declared, his voice rising above the tunes.

The audience exploded in cheers, sending a swarm of good wishes to her old best friend, Delilah Wainwright.

A rib-piercing dagger would have caused less pain.

Genevieve's breath caught when she saw Delilah's diamond ring, which Christian once said should be on her own finger, and her eyesight became blurry. She refused to give in to the bitter, unforgiving sting of betrayal. Rather, her smile was the type that concealed the destruction that lay beneath it.

She might as well wreck her life in style if she was going to do it.

Genevieve drained her glass in a single, defiant swallow and tilted it back. Then she sensed his presence.

Something grim, imposing, unaffected by the celebrations surrounding them.

When she turned, he was there.

An unknown individual dressed in black.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he radiated the kind of menace that made spines stiffen and heartbeats quicken. His raven hair, tangled with just enough recklessness to suggest unbridled force, shaded his keen jaw with a hint of stubble.

Her breath was frozen by his eyes, which were obsidian depths that pierced through her as if he already knew every secret she suffered for.

The room dimmed. It didn't matter what the music, the sorrow, or the betrayal was.

His eyes locked with hers, unreadable. Unforgiving. An invitation. An invitation.

Genevieve felt her heart pound.

She moved forward a step.

For what reason does he cause her to forget why she came here? Who is he?

As Genevieve walked toward the stranger, her heart thumping against her ribs, the silk of her robe murmured across marble.

The way predators observe their prey before striking, he stayed motionless.

She muttered, lifting her head in silent defiance, "I don't think we've met."

His mouth curled into a sin, a warning, a sneer. "We haven't,"

There was something seductive and menacing in his deep voice, a sound that promised secrets best kept hidden.

As soon as a new, slow, sensual song started, he took Genevieve's hand and led her into the dance floor before she could comprehend her own carelessness.

Her breath caught. Something that had nothing to do with retaliation was sparked in her by his strong, possessive touch.

The dance was a conflict masquerading as intimacy. He held her waist too tightly. He looked too knowingly at her lips.

Genevieve gulped. "You have no place here."

A giggle slipped across her body. “And you do?”

She compelled herself to meet his eyes. "Once, I did."

A shock of realization ran down her spine as his fingertips touched her naked back. "Not any more."

There was no question in the words. The truth was in them.

Something much more frightening than the betrayal that had brought her here, the humiliation of witnessing Christian toast to Delilah.

She said in a whisper, "I don't even know your name."

The smell of alcohol and winter air enveloped her as he drew in closer. "You don't have to."

She felt something break inside.

Grasping his lapels, Genevieve could feel his body heat beneath the clean suit material. Who he was didn't matter to her. didn't mind being observed in the room.

In this moment, in his touch, in the fire searing under her skin, she only knew that she wanted to drown.

She kissed him as a result.

Did it start something much more harmful, or was it an error?

The world slanted when their lips met.

His mouth was like fire against hers, a burning, merciless tool. Not tender. Unafraid.

His fingers gripped her waist tightly, drawing her in as though he were daring her to change her mind.

Genevieve must have.

The audience, the repercussions, and the fact that this was meant to be an act of defiance rather than a surrender should have all been considered.

She didn't feel regret, though, when he pulled away and his breath warmed her lips.

It was famine.

He looked into her eyes, probing, evaluating.

His jaw flexed a muscle. "The taste of you is anger."

With difficulty, Genevieve swallowed and steadied herself. "You are troublesome to taste."

His dark, knowing sneer reappeared. "Then we're a perfect fit."

Through the stupor came the sound of a champagne glass breaking on stone.

Genevieve turned, feeling a knot of fear in her stomach.

Christian stood close to the bar, his engagement ring shining under the chandeliers, his face white with rage.

The group murmured. So began the scandal.

Heat was seeping up Genevieve's neck as her pulse thumped. A stranger had just been kissed by her. in the presence of the man who had deceived her. before the woman who took him.

The stranger, too?

His laughter at Christian was gradual and deliberate, as if he were aware that he had just sparked a conflict.

The breath left Genevieve's mouth.

Just what had she done?

Was it only a kiss, or did something much more damaging start?

Her breathing was shallower than it should have been, and Genevieve's heart thumped beneath her skin. Something irrational that had been imprisoned for too long was awakened by the stranger's body heat. Before she even considered it, she moved.

A quick breath. Silk against a suit, brushed. Then, she smashed her mouth into his.

The world became hazy as the moment's energy engulfed it.

Fire and ice made up his lips; they were demanding and unforgiving without being mean. She was surrounded by the strong aroma of sandalwood and whiskey that permeated her senses.

The stranger did not back off. He made no hesitation.

Rather, he placed a warm, strong hand on the curve of her waist, possessive in a way that made her jump. He returned her kiss slowly at first, tasting and testing before committing.

The way his body curled gently toward hers, as if instinct demanded they become closer, made Genevieve forget herself in the feel of him.

However, he halted as abruptly as it had started.

A whiff of air. Tension flickered in the air.

His eyes met Genevieve's as her lashes fluttered open. cold blue eyes. Cold, cunning, but blazing with something he wouldn't say.

He did not back off, but his hold relaxed. kept looking. A quiet, oppressive struggle of wills.

He then grinned.

A sluggish, astute creature. The sort of thing that gave cautions and chills.

"Bold move," he said, his voice as silky as whiskey that has aged. "But I'm not one for second chances."

A door slammed before she even realized what was behind it, and the words were a challenge.

As reality hit her like a freight train, Genevieve's fingers twitched at the lapel of his jacket. The crowd's murmuring. Christian's angry stare was weighing heavily on her back.

And this guy, this stranger whom she had just kissed as though she owned him, was staring at her as though she had just made him laugh.

Her gut clenched up with something hot and humiliating.

She raised her chin, and her shoulders straightened. "Who said that I desired one?"

His eyes darkened and his smirk grew larger. "Nice girl."

Genevieve gasped for air.

He is who? Why does he feel indestructible, as though she kissed something much more hazardous than she thought?

With what little of her poise she still had left, Genevieve turned.

Christian observed.

His mouth was a thin, skeptical line, his jaw was tense, and his hands were balled into fists. As if to remind him that she was now the one wearing his ring, Delilah shifted uneasily next to him and clutched his arm.

Genevieve felt a terrible kind of delight pulsing through her veins. She had desired for him to watch her go on. had desired for him to experience even a small portion of the betrayal she had endured.

She touched the stranger, but why did her hands still tingle?

Christian said, "Genevieve," in a low, growling voice.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Do you now recall my name?

Christian's nostrils opened wide. When he stepped forward, the stranger, the man who had kissed her as if he already had a piece of her soul, surged ahead of him.

One step. subtle. yet strong.

A change in tension occurred.

Christian was hesitant. Something instinctive, something that sensed a bigger danger between him and Genevieve, fought against his pride.

With a low, knowing laugh, the stranger laughed. "Alden, you seem like you're about to speak. But I wouldn't.

Under his fury, Christian's eyes flickered to astonishment as they snapped to him.

Genevieve blinked with disbelief. How was the name of Christian known to this man?

Regaining control of his look, Christian squared his shoulders. "I have no idea who in hell you think you are….."

The outsider cocked his head. daring him.

There was power in the air, and Genevieve sensed it. It was subtly oppressive.

At last, the stranger said, "Silas Rockwell," in a humorous tone. "But you were aware of that beforehand, weren't you?"

The name sounded like a bullet.

Stillness.

Then a whisper. From the guests in the vicinity, not from Christian.

Genevieve stayed put. did not inhale.

That name was familiar to her. In New York, everyone did.

Kingmaker, multibillionaire investor, and the city's most untouchable guy is Silas Rockwell.

Christian's face went a little whiter. It was his polished arrogance's first crack.

Christian said, "You're Rockwell," in a deliberately bland tone.

Silas gave a sly smile. "Well. The recognition is there.

Genevieve's head was spinning. She'd just given Silas Rockwell a kiss.

And he was now putting himself in her way, between her and Christian, as though he was determined to keep her.

What is Silas seeking? Why does it feel like her life has completely changed?

Sunlight was slicing through Genevieve Montgomery's bedroom window as she woke up. She moaned and buried herself further in the satin sheets, but she was unable to fall back asleep due to the pounding in her temples.

How could she have done that?

In fragments, the night returned: a golden-lit ballroom, treachery twisted like venom in her veins, and finally him.

Rockwell, Silas.

She recalled the feel of his suit under the covers as her fingers twitched against them. The unrestrained, scorching, and unforgettable kiss.

With a start, Genevieve sat up and pressed her hands to her face. "God."

In front of Christian, she had planted a kiss on a stranger. had allowed her rage and heartache to make her the night's biggest scandal. But was it more than a stranger? Silas Rockwell was the one.

A multi-billionaire. A name that was spoken in whispers among the elites of New York. Untouchable. unforgiving.

She had kissed him as if she were his own.

A dark, electrifying feeling that was dangerously close to excitement swept through her at the thought.

She was abruptly brought back to the present when her phone buzzed against the nightstand. A notification flashed.

Here at Rockwell Enterprises, welcome. At precisely 9 AM, your first day starts.

Her chest hammered with panic.

No. No, no, no.

She pushed off the sheets, sprinted to the closet, and sprung out of bed. After everything with Christian had fallen apart, she had battled valiantly for this job, which was a new beginning. She couldn't afford to make a single error.

Even if that error had a mouth designed for sin and cold blue eyes.

Brushing through her curls with barely contained hysteria, Genevieve pushed herself into a blue pencil skirt and a white top. An expert. An empty canvas. She had to be just that.

The clock gave her a fierce look. 8:47 a.m.

She would arrive late.

Ignoring the wave of nausea still gnawing at her stomach, she picked up her luggage and hurried out the door.

Her previous error is waiting for her in the office she just entered, which is the last thing she expects.

As Genevieve strode inside the Rockwell Enterprises skyscraper, her heels tapping against the polished marble, the mirrored doors yawned open.

The building's immense size was daunting; it was a soaring steel and glass monster that hummed with silent strength. The energy was brutally controlled. Only the strongest survived in this environment, where ambition was paramount.

She took a deep breath. She was one of them today.

A woman carrying a tablet came up in a stylish black dress. Genevieve Montgomery, huh?

"Yes."

The woman gave a cold, professional nod. "The executive division is where you are assigned. Eighty floors. Come with me.

Genevieve gasped in surprise.

the 80th floor.

where the empire was ruled by the aristocracy. where the CEO was in charge.

She squared her shoulders and followed the woman into the elevator despite a shiver of uneasiness running down her spine. The ride was quick, eerily quiet, and the numbers increased steadily.

The doors opened smoothly.

It was another world on the executive floor. With staff moving quickly, voices mumbling with crisp precision, and the smell of leather, new coffee, and something costly lingering in the air, it pulsed with controlled pandemonium.

The woman pointed to a glass-walled office at the end of the hallway before Genevieve had time to process it. "You will be providing direct assistance to the CEO. We'll start your orientation in……

The door opened.

Genevieve pivoted.

And the world fell away from her.

With the same sly smile he had on his face the night before, Silas Rockwell stood there, observing her.

The air between them was dangerously harsh and fractured.

Both of them remained silent for a long, tense period.

Then his voice, sharp as a sword, soft as silk.

"Miss Montgomery," he whispered to her. "Greetings from your new position."

She gave her new employer a kiss. She was now imprisoned in his world.

Under pressure, Genevieve had always maintained her composure.

However, she felt completely different when she was at the office of Silas Rockwell, the man whose lips had just hours before wounded hers.

He exuded seamless control and elegant authority, and his presence was oppressive. Crossing his arms and leaning against the edge of his desk, he observed her like a predator would observe a cornered animal.

She began, "I…." but her throat betrayed her, her words vanishing under the weight of his stare.

He waited for a long moment before he spoke. "I presume HR overlooked the fact that we've already met."

Her stomach churned.

This cannot be taking place. It was not taking place.

"I….I didn't, last night."

Silas grinned more broadly. "Didn't you?"

Exhaling, Genevieve struggled to maintain her position. "I had no idea who you were."

Softly, almost amusedly, he tsked. "There are now two of us."

She knitted her brows. "What?"

Pushing off the desk, he moved in her direction. I had no idea you would be working for me last night. Nevertheless, here we are.

Genevieve's heart pounded. "This, will this not be an issue?"

Silas's face remained the same, but there was a shift in the atmosphere, something unspoken and deadly.

"A problem?" he said in a smooth-sounding voice. "That depends."

Her heart faltered. "On what?"

With a steady, purposeful glance that was almost tactile, Silas examined her.

"On your ability to follow directions, Miss Montgomery."

Genevieve's breathing became labored.

The game was different now.

Furthermore, she wasn't certain if she was being played or playing it.

Silas is refusing to let this go. Additionally, Genevieve simply stepped into a trap that she was unaware of.

Silas Rockwell's stare held Genevieve stationary, and she felt the air grow thinner.

His piercing, unfathomably icy blue eyes revealed nothing. Not acknowledgment. Not for fun. Not even rage. Just a methodical, slow calculation, similar to how a predator evaluates its prey.

He whispered, "Interesting first impression, Ms. Montgomery."

The words were gentle, almost lackadaisical, but they cut like a razor through her poise.

He leaned back against his desk, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and his effortless authority filled the glass-walled office, filling every square inch. The Manhattan skyline glistened endlessly behind him, but he was the real force in the room.

Breathing was something Genevieve had to do.

"I…." Words tangled like needles in her dry throat. "I was unaware of….." Silas raised a single, flawless eyebrow. "That the man you kissed last night would be your employer?"

Her cheeks became hot. The harsh reality of her current position conflicted with the warm, demanding, and unquestionably consuming memory of his lips upon hers.

There was a tiny twist to his lips. Or was that a ploy for the interview?

Genevieve's back straightened. "Pardon me?"

With an enigmatic face, Silas cocked his head. "I don't hide my distractions on a regular basis."

The embarrassment was burned away as rage flared in her chest. She retorted, "And I don't kiss my bosses all the time."

Silas laughed. "Sorry. You're pretty skilled at it.

She felt her gut lurch. He was trying her and playing with her to see if she would break.

Genevieve took a deep breath. He wouldn't get satisfaction from her.

She raised her chin. "Mr. Rockwell, will you fire me?"

Silas examined her for a painfully long moment, prolonging it only to see her writhe. Finally, as if she had bored him, he let out a breath through his nostrils.

"No."

Her chest swelled with relief.

Then, though, he gave a slow, evil smile. "Not just yet."

What kind of game does Silas play? And why does she seem to be losing already?

On her first day at Rockwell Enterprises, Genevieve had a lot of expectations.

a competent group. a difficult workload. The beginning of a new, clean career.

Instead, as he dismissed her as if she were inconsequential, she stood in the office of her new boss, still tasting the ghost of his kisses.

Silas stood up erect, his suit jacket moving with easy accuracy. "I take it that HR told you about your role?"

Genevieve swallowed hard. Indeed. The CEO's executive assistant.

He walked behind his desk while humming. "You should be aware that I want efficiency. Accuracy. total discretion.

With his presence engulfing the entire room, he collapsed into his chair.

Genevieve resisted letting her legs shake.

"I'm capable of managing that."

Silas's fingers were steepled. "Are you able to?"

She paused.

There it was, the warning. Not subtle. Not kind. A threat in whispers, clothed in steel and silk.

Silas Rockwell was an incorrigible man.

She had just provided him with a reason to think of her.

With a quick glance at his screen, he said, "Your schedule is already in your inbox." His lips quivered in mockery as he said, "You'll be working directly with me, which means long hours, no excuses, and….." no personal entanglements.

Genevieve stopped breathing.

This was fun for him.

He was aware that the scales were skewed too much in his favor.

To preserve what little professionalism she still had, her thoughts begged her to grovel and apologize. She wasn't weak, though, darn it.

"I get it." Her tone was clear and aloof. "There is nothing to be concerned about."

A glint of enjoyment crossed his features. A letdown? It passed too quickly to capture.

"All right," he whispered. "You can leave."

dismissed. As simple as that.

With her dignity barely preserved, Genevieve turned abruptly. She had erred, and it had been disastrous.

As she left the office, the weight of his stare pressed against her back, making her stomach turn.

She had two options.

Either she resigned before her career was destroyed, or

Or she demonstrated to Silas Rockwell that she wasn't merely a toy for him to play.

Is Genevieve able to endure working with Silas? Or has she lost before she's even begun?

Even before she got out of the elevator, Genevieve could feel the weight of their gaze.

The hum of ambition should have filled Rockwell Enterprises' sleek, glass-paneled corridors, as analysts whispered over stock reports and helpers hurried between meetings.

Rather, there was quiet.

The kind of silence that carried judgment cloaked in phony civility was worse than blatant rumors.

Taking a deep breath, she walked ahead with her shoulders squared and her chin up. She refused to show them her flinch.

Still, there were murmurs.

"Have you heard? At the gala, she gave him a kiss.

Even for someone that attractive, it was a bold move.

"Perhaps that's how she was hired."

She felt a surge of anger with the last one.

She deserved this job. I worked hard for it. However, she was reduced to a scandal in a pencil skirt in less than twenty-four hours.

Genevieve walked over to her desk and, using more force than was required, put her bag down. Her fingers shook, but she wouldn't admit it.

There was a shadow next to her.

With her heart racing, she turned to see Silas's best friend and CFO, Jasper Hollingsworth, grinning sarcastically at her.

Jasper drewled and adjusted his cufflinks. "Well, well." "Aren't you the 80th floor's talk?"

Genevieve gritted her teeth. "Are you telling me to step down now so I don't further embarrass myself?"

Jasper laughed. "Quite the opposite, I'm actually enjoying the show."

She clenched her jaw. "I'm glad I could amuse you."

Jasper lowered his voice and leaned in. "Any advice? Distractions don't sit well with Silas.

She felt cold.

The intercom on her desk crackled to life before she could reply.

"Miss Montgomery." Now, my office.

Silas's voice was smooth and deep, yet it had a sharp edge that could cut through steel.

Genevieve took a slow breath.

Then she headed toward his door, every pair of eyes in the workplace watching her.

What is Silas going to say? And is this the start of the end for her?

With her heart thumping against her ribs, Genevieve entered Silas's office.

With a foreboding finality, the door closed behind her.

With his hands in his pockets, Silas stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, radiating the same unchallenged power that had subdued Wall Street.

He didn't turn right away. Rather, he gazed at the skyline, his image reflected in the glass, a tall, strong figure carved out of ice and shadow.

"I presume you've heard the murmurs," he remarked in an unintelligible voice.

Genevieve's fingers at her sides were clinched. "I have."

At last he turned.

His gaze was unkind.

"Miss Montgomery, I don't mix business with pleasure."

Those remarks were like a slap to Genevieve.

She began, "I never….." but he interrupted her with a small head tilt.

He went on, taking deliberate steps closer and saying, "I don't care what your intentions were." Risky. "It's important that everyone in this building believes I brought you here."

Genevieve's chin went up. "I'm not to blame."

Silas looked at her slowly, evaluating.

"No," he acknowledged. "However, perception is crucial."

The epitome of unwavering control, he crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of his desk.

Miss Montgomery, this is the truth. You have two choices.

Genevieve took a swallow. "I'm paying attention."

Silas darkened his eyes.

"You leave unless you prove yourself here."

Like a wire on the verge of breaking, the air between them crackled.

It was an obvious challenge.

Genevieve's chin went up. "I suppose I'll have to prove myself after that."

A sneer tugged at his lips, slow and deadly.

"Well done."

Silas is observing everything she does. Does he, however, want her to succeed or fail?

Silas shoved a file across the desk before Genevieve could even comprehend what he had spoken.

"Your first assignment."

She looked at him and then at the heavy folder. "I believed my role was to help you."

He grinned more broadly. "Think of this as an initiation."

After a moment of hesitation, she opened it.

A thorough financial analysis. A board meeting is coming shortly. A demonstration.

She felt her tummy tighten.

"You want me to show this to you?"

Unable to read, Silas watched her. "I'm counting on you to succeed."

Genevieve's fingers gripped the folder more tightly.

He was putting her to the test. Holding out for her to trip.

She looked directly into his eyes. "What time is the meeting?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Her breath caught. "I don't have much time with that."

Silas gave a shrug. "So you'd better get to work."

There was a scathing, purposeful stillness between them.

Genevieve was the first to refuse to blink.

Then, as gracefully as she could, she picked up the file and headed for the door.

But as soon as she got there, Silas's voice abruptly halted her.

"Miss Montgomery, too?"

Her pulse twitched as she turned.

Something perilously like amusement shone in his eyes.

"Don't make me look bad."

Genevieve's back stiffened.

Her thoughts were racing as she strolled outside without saying a word.

The game was on.

She also had no intention of losing.

Is she able to prove herself? Or is Silas going to ensure that she falls?

The weight of her future pressed against Genevieve's chest as she held the file in her hands. There was nothing she could do but prove herself.

As she made her way back to her desk, the low murmurs from the office hung in the air, following her every move. Despite her heart beating like a battle drum, she maintained an expressionless expression. They were anticipating her failure.

No way.

She opened the file and looked over the project specifications that Silas had given her. It was a risky, complicated, and dangerous acquisition agreement. A single mistake might cost the business millions of dollars.

She let out a deep exhale.

It was a test. A means for Silas to press her till she broke, to back her into a corner.

Alright. Permit him.

For years, Genevieve had worked her way up to the top of every obstacle life presented. She refused to allow herself to be brought down by a haughty billionaire who reigned like a tyrant and kissed like a god.

Jasper Hollingsworth was drinking an espresso while leaning on her cubicle's partition. As he saw her quickly scan the report, he thought, "Brave of you."

She didn't raise her head. "Brave?"

Jasper grinned. "The majority of people do not voluntarily enter Silas Rockwell's fire."

Then Genevieve looked at him, her gaze fixed on his. "The majority of people don't make it through, do they?"

Jasper laughed. "No. They don't. He tapped the edge of the file and put down his coffee. "This offer? It's a mess. Too much risk, too many flaws. Even seasoned business leaders would be reluctant to handle it.

Genevieve's stomach churned, but she kept it to herself. "So why am I receiving it from Silas?"

Jasper grinned more broadly. "Because he wants to see your character."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "Well, I suppose I had better show him."

After examining her for a while, Jasper nodded slowly and approvingly. Montgomery, you have my liking. Aim to avoid dying.

As he left, Genevieve took a deep breath. She had to get ready one night. One opportunity to show she was worthy of being here.

She would not allow Silas to prevail.

However, what if this transaction is more than a test? Could it be a trap?

Determination coiling in her veins, Genevieve strode for the exit.

She had always performed well under duress. She was born with it.

She would examine every aspect of this project, find its weaknesses, and make it impenetrable.

It would be a mistake for Silas Rockwell to underestimate her.

His words sliced through the room like a razor through silk as she got to the door.

"Miss Montgomery."

Her breath caught.

She turned back slowly.

With his hands in his pockets and his silhouette painted in gold and shadow by the city lights behind him, Silas stood close to his desk.

His eyes heated, but his expression was unreadable.

Genevieve's fingers gripped the file more tightly. "Mr. Rockwell, yes?"

He just watched her for a while. Unsettling. Quiet. Making calculations.

He then gave his head a small tilt. "Are you certain you can do this?"

She raised her chin. "Yes."

He twisted his lips in a knowing, menacing sneer.

"Well done." The air between them was stolen by the weight of his presence as he stepped closer. "But I want to be very clear."

Genevieve refused to back down.

He lowered his voice to a smoother level. darker.

"What you've gotten yourself into is beyond your comprehension."

A shiver ran down her back.

Refusing to let him see the glimmer of uncertainty, Genevieve swallowed. "Well, I suppose I'll find out."

Something flickered in his eyes, a glimmer of laughter? Acceptance? Or something even more hazardous?

Silas waited for a long moment before nodding. "Tomorrow. Don't let me down.

Forcing herself not to run, she pivoted on her heel and left.

Her hands shook.

Not out of fear.

from something much more hazardous.

What does Silas conceal? And why does she feel as though she has just entered a much larger realm than she could have ever dreamed of?

With her eyes burning after hours of unrelenting work, Genevieve gazed at the figures on the screen. Everything had to be perfect. She refused to be buried by Silas Rockwell before she had an opportunity to establish herself.

Long after midnight, the office was silent save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the faint sound of the city coming in through the glass windows.

She was aware that people were still discussing her, including the stories, the whispers, and the silent condemnation.

The boss's kissing women.

She must have slept her way into a high-profile executive role.

She tightened her grip on the mouse. Let them speak.

No one's opinion would matter if she aced this endeavor.

Her focus was disrupted by the faint sound of voices. Two younger analysts hovered by the break room across the hall, their whispered voices barely audible to her.

One murmured, "She's still here?"

The other sneered and said, "She's trying to impress him." I wish you luck in that endeavor. Attachments are not done by Rockwell.

With her nails digging into her palm, Genevieve's hold became more firm.

She took a deep breath, making herself ignore them. Concentrate. Work. Win.

Across from her, in the glass office, she hardly saw the shadow.

Leaning against his desk, Silas Rockwell observed.

His keen eyes followed her every motion, and he had a small smile on his lips that suggested he was both amused and interested.

She hadn't yet seen him. He did, however, see her.

And that caused him to halt for some reason.

The strain was not causing Genevieve Montgomery to crumble. She wasn't sprinting.

She was engaged in combat.

With a deep exhalation, Silas drummed his fingers on the desk.

Interesting.

His face was unreadable as he returned his attention to his laptop.

They would check to see if her efforts were worthwhile tomorrow.

Someone else is monitoring Genevieve as she proves herself, and they don't want her to be successful.

Genevieve hardly noticed as the minutes stretched into hours.

The final report was flawless, brutal, and indisputable. She had managed to transform the acquisition agreement into a surefire chance for Rockwell Enterprises.

She stretched her sore shoulders and leaned back, satisfied. It was her.

There was a faint click coming from the corridor.

Anticipating a late-night janitor, she turned.

Rather, a woman was standing just inside the dark office, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked in.

The elegance caught Genevieve's attention right away. Sleek blonde curls cascaded over one shoulder of a dark green silk dress draped over an impossible-to-have physique.

The icy enjoyment in her eyes was the second thing she noticed.

Astor, Rosalind.

Rockwell's former fiancée.

Genevieve's heartbeat skipped a beat as she sat up straight.

Rosalind smiled, but it never made it to her eyes. "Well, well. It's clear that you're keeping yourself cozy.

Genevieve looked her in the eye evenly. "This is where I work."

Rosalind shook her head and tsked softly. "I assume that staying up late and attempting to prove yourself is impressive."

Genevieve's arms were crossed. "Ms. Astor, is there a reason you're here?"

A deliberate, leisurely smirk.

Rosalind stepped closer and whispered, "Yes." "A cautionary tale."

Genevieve's body stiffened.

Rosalind's voice trailed off. "He ruins everything he comes into contact with." Avoid being the next one.

Although Genevieve's breath caught, she remained still.

She forced her voice to stay steady as she said, "He doesn't scare me."

Rosalind laughed softly, almost pathetically. "Oh, sweetheart." Her perfume, something dark and dangerously costly, filled the air between them as she leaned closer.

"At first, they all say that."

Under the desk, Genevieve's fingers clenched into fists, but her face remained expressionless.

With a tilt of her head, Rosalind examined her as if she were a riddle she had previously solved. "Don't you think you're different?"

Genevieve looked back at her. "I believe you ought to go."

Rosalind just stared at her for a bit. Then she grinned.

"Ms. Montgomery, I hope you're strong enough. For when Silas is done with you... Her voice was venomous and velvety as she leaned in. "It will be completely gone."

She then pivoted on her heel and left Genevieve to bear the consequences of her remarks alone.

Does Rosalind's warning have a deeper meaning, or is she just jealous?

Long after Rosalind was gone, Genevieve gazed at the deserted hallway.

In her thoughts, the words clung, curling like smoke.

He ruins everything he comes into contact with.

It was a game. It must have been.

An ex who had been cast aside made a last-ditch effort to shake her.

However, the assurance in Rosalind's voice and the caution in her flawless grin had been genuine.

With a sharp exhale, Genevieve shrugged off the uncertainty.

This was not something she had time for.

She clenched her fingers around the report before her. In a few hours, she had to give a presentation.

She grabbed her coat and gathered her folders, determined.

She sensed it as soon as she left the office.

a presence.

Before she even turned, instinct triggered, causing her breath to catch.

With his arms folded and leaning against the distant wall, Silas Rockwell observed her with an enigmatic look.

He was framed by sharp angles and silent danger in the dark corridor light.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He had been standing there for how long?

"Late at night?" he whispered.

With a forceful gulp, Genevieve held onto the folder tightly. "Just getting ready for tomorrow."

Silas's gaze strayed to the file. "Amazing commitment."

She prepared herself for ridicule, but it didn't come.

Rather, he pushed off the wall and approached slowly and methodically.

Genevieve wouldn't back down.

Silas silently examined her before his lips curled in something much more sinister than laughter or appreciation.

"Pay attention, Ms. Montgomery."

Her breath caught.

Like a steel-wrapped whisper, Silas's voice grew softer.

He whispered, "Rosalind is many things." "But she never tells lies."

Something unsaid made the air heavy and dense.

Then he left without saying another word.

Genevieve stood motionless, her heart pounding, unsure whether Rosalind or Silas was the true danger.

In reality, what has Genevieve gotten herself into?

The words on the screen merged into a jumble of useless data as Genevieve sat at her desk with her fingers poised over the keyboard.

She was still haunted by Rosalind's words.

"Everything he touches is destroyed by him. Avoid being the next one.

She shook her head and let out a harsh exhale. No. She refused to be shaken by the resentment of an ex-fiance.

It was obvious that Silas Rockwell was a merciless businessman. Destroyer, though? That suggested something more profound, something intimate, something... hazardous.

Furthermore, she wasn't playing games.

However, uncertainty had started to seep in like a slow poison.

The murmurs. Her coworkers' knowing glances. The way Silas had observed her the previous evening, his caution looming over them like an implicit danger.

Was something wrong with her?

No. She didn't think that was true.

She clicked her report open once more and straightened in her chair. She would establish her value. She would succeed.

Before she even saw it, a person crept close to her desk.

Silas.

Her initial impression was of his cologne, which was deep, dark, and completely male. Then his voice, steel-edged but silky smooth, arrived.

"Ms. Montgomery, are you afraid?"

Genevieve made herself look into his eyes. There was something deeper beneath the laughter that blazed in those cold blue eyes. A darker one.

She raised her chin. "Never, of you."

Silas cocked his head, seemingly taking in what she had said. Unspoken anxiety crackled in the long pause.

Then he grinned.

Her spine tingled at the slow, knowing smirk.

Genevieve's jaw tightened. The company's most powerful man had just been challenged by her.

She could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he was determined to make her regret it.

What kind of game does Silas play? And is Genevieve really prepared to face the repercussions?

Silas Rockwell had never been challenged before.

Genevieve Montgomery, however, stood in front of him unfazed.

Both were silent for a long time. The office, a battleground of defiance and authority, pulsed with subdued intensity.

Then Silas leaned in cautiously.

With a hoarse rasp, he whispered, "You have nerves." "I'll give it to you."

Despite all of her instincts telling her to move, Genevieve forced herself to stay motionless. to sprint.

Rather, she looked directly into his eyes. Hey Mr. Rockwell, I came here to work. Not to engage in gaming.

He grinned more broadly. "That's where you're incorrect."

Her gut twisted with a gradual surge of uneasiness.

Silas took a step back, his face unreadable. "Your presentation must be completed before tomorrow. If you make an impression on me... His eyes flitted over her as he allowed the words to linger. "Here, we will discuss your future."

Genevieve took a swallow. An examination. One more trap.

Additionally, she had simply walked right into it.

Silas glanced toward the window, his keen features shadowed by the city lights.

His remarks were gentle, but they carried a warning: "Be careful, Ms. Montgomery."

Genevieve's heart pounded. Did she get herself into trouble?

She gathered her power and let out a strong exhale. No. She refused to be intimidated by him.

She would play for the victory if this were a game.

Keeping her posture straight and her pace under control, she pivoted on her heel and left his office.

But she sensed it even as she walked away.

Silas Rockwell's eyes were still piercing her back.

Has her fate been sealed by Genevieve? Furthermore, what precisely is it that Silas wants from her?

With her fingers clenched like a weapon around the presentation remote, Genevieve stood at the head of the long, glass conference table.

Powerful men in fitted suits packed the boardroom, their eyes evaluating, doubtful. Her pulse pounded and her blood simmered as Silas Rockwell, seated in his chair at the far end of the room, radiated effortless power.

She cleared her throat. "After evaluating the acquisition's risks, I've managed to turn it into a high-reward opportunity."

Click.

The room was brightened by the first slide's clear numbers and calculated observations.

With a steady voice and assurance like silk-wrapped steel, she started.

Silas, however, remained silent.

He just observed.

She began to doubt everything because of his prolonged quiet and unreadable countenance.

Genevieve persisted, advancing, outlining predictions and contingencies, her plan piercing any possible objection they may raise.

Then she was done.

Quiet.

Like an impending storm, the anxiety grew.

Silas moved, striking the table's glossy wood with his extended fingers. "That was a lot of ambition."

The room was filled with a murmur.

Genevieve waited, bracing herself.

Then, with a voice as silky as sin, Silas leaned forward.

"And wholly unrealistic."

A dagger. Sharp and accurate. brutal.

She exhaled the air.

A rippling of whispers. While some waited for her response, others nodded in accord.

Genevieve was not going to break.

She stood up straight and met his gaze. "You're not correct."

Silas raised an eyebrow, curious. "Am I?"

They had issued the challenge.

Furthermore, Genevieve Montgomery never gave up.

Is she able to persuade the board that Silas is the one who made the error?

Tension crackled in the air.

Slowly, Genevieve took a breath to regain her composure. Respectfully speaking, Mr. Rockwell, you're taking a defensive stance on this. I'm planning ahead.

Not quite a frown, not nearly a smirk, Silas's lips quivered.

"Explain."

To go to the next slide, Genevieve clicked. "The risk of revenue loss within the first quarter will be eliminated if we adhere to my suggested integration model."

Silas observed, but suddenly something was different.

Interest.

Her voice remained steady as she went on, piercing the tension with incisive, indisputable reasoning.

A seasoned executive with decades of experience in the field pushed forward as one of the board members did. "She presents a strong case, I must say."

Silas remained silent.

The pressure increased.

Then he got up.

As he approached, Genevieve's heart raced, his presence a fire that threatened to engulf the place.

His demeanor was impossible to decipher as he examined her.

At last, he let out a quiet, deliberate breath.

"Interesting."

The air was broken by one word.

Acceptance. The test was successful.

Genevieve was aware that she had prevailed in this round.

But at what price?

Silas is actually observing her for the first time; is this a sign of admiration or a warning?

The board adjourned their meeting. Only two remained when the execs packed out, muttering about dangers and projections.

Silas. Genevieve, too.

He turned to face her, moving slowly and purposefully.

Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she pushed herself to stay motionless.

His voice was quiet but steely as he said, "You just made my board question me."

Genevieve took a swallow. "I disproved them."

With a tangible presence, Silas took a step closer. "I was proven wrong by you."

She gasped.

Then he grinned.

Dark. I'm amused. There's something else hiding underneath.

“You’re either very courageous, Ms. Montgomery,” he whispered, “or very stupid.

She bawled her fingers into fists. "What do you believe it to be?"

Silas cocked his head, examining her as though she were a riddle he was unable to answer.

At last, he moved closer, speaking barely audible.

"I haven't made up my mind yet."

The air between them was hazy, hazardous, and electrifying.

Then he left without saying another word.

With her hands shaking at her sides, Genevieve let out a breath.

Today, she prevailed.

However, she sensed that she had just entered a much more hazardous situation.

Silas is more than just interested. He is observing. Awaiting. What is it that he truly desires from her?

Executives spoke to one another about the meeting's surprising conclusion as the boardroom gradually emptied.

With her heart still pounding and her back straight, Genevieve stood at the head of the table.

For the time being, she had prevailed.

She made Silas listen even though he had rejected her pitch. to think again.

And for the first time, he had considered her a contender rather than a bother.

She ought to have felt triumphant. Rather, she had the impression of just escaped prey.

She sensed another eye watching her from the other side of the room.

Gideon Mercer caught Genevieve's attention as she turned slightly.

Silas's biggest adversary.

With his arms folded and a sly sneer tugging at his lips, he was leaning against the distant wall.

Tall, well-groomed, and naturally charming. His eyes, however, were calculating and keen.

The word "Impressive," he whispered.

Genevieve stiffened. Men like Gideon Mercer's compliments were not credible to her.

He went on to say, "You stood your ground against Rockwell," as he moved closer and pushed off the wall. "Not many people have the spine for that."

Genevieve's chin tipped. "I wasn’t aware you kept track of Silas’s battles."

Gideon laughed. "I keep track of everything that matters."

He looked at her, evaluating. Like a strategist assessing an opportunity, rather than a man observing a woman.

He said, "Let me give you some advice," with a slight dropping of his voice. "Silas dislikes being outwitted." He will strike back.

Genevieve was not going to hesitate. "I can handle him."

Gideon grinned more broadly. "We’ll see."

Then a shadow appeared behind her before she could answer.

The atmosphere changed.

Silas.

"Mercer," Silas replied in a chilly, slightly menacing voice.

Gideon turned without flinching. "Rockwell."

They were engaged in an old, painful conflict of silent tension.

Gideon gave Genevieve another look and grinned.

He said, "Interesting hire," and then walked out of the room, passing them.

Genevieve let out a breath, but Silas's voice broke the silence before she could move.

"Come to my office."

Without a doubt. An order.

Genevieve's jaw tightened. There would be no good in whatever came next.

Did she just enter a far larger conflict than she had anticipated?

Towering over the city below, Silas's office was a steel and glass fortress.

Willing her heart to slow, Genevieve entered the room.

With his hands in his pockets, Silas stood by the window facing her.

It was oppressively tense.

At last he turned. Something unreadable flared in his blue eyes.

"You enjoyed that, didn’t you?" he asked.

Genevieve's arms were folded. "Enjoy what?"

He smirked slowly and deliberately. "Defying me."

She wouldn't take her eyes off it. "I enjoyed proving I belong here."

Silence for a beat.

Then, a risky change.

Silas took a long, methodical stride forward. predator.

He said, "You're either very ambitious or very reckless."

Even though Genevieve's heart was racing, she was not going to give up. "Or maybe I just know my worth."

Silas's eyes darkened as he observed her.

Then at last he spoke something.

"You’ll work directly under me from now on."

Her stomach fell. An examination? A penalty? A snare?

She trained her facial expression. "Are you certain that's a good idea? The office rumors…."

"I don’t care about gossip," he said with ease. "Results are important to me. Did you want to establish your worth? This is your opportunity.

Genevieve's breathing became labored.

There was something almost menacing in Silas's voice as it lowered.

"Don’t disappoint me, Ms. Montgomery."

She took a deep breath.

She wasn't sure whether she had won or had simply wandered into his game for the first time.

But is Genevieve playing on his board or is she his next target now that Silas has made his move?