Mia’s POV

The elevator ride to the top floor of Silver Moon Enterprises is painfully slow. My heart pounds against my ribs as I grip the folder in my hands, my knuckles turning white. This is it. The moment that could change my career forever.

I take a deep breath, adjusting the hem of my navy-blue blazer. I spent hours preparing for this presentation, memorizing every detail, refining every slide. If I do this right, I’ll finally get the promotion I deserve.

The doors slide open with a soft chime, revealing the executive floor. It’s eerily quiet, except for the distant hum of phones ringing and keyboards clacking. The air smells like expensive cologne and freshly brewed coffee.

I step out, forcing my legs to move. Don’t be nervous. You belong here.

"Miss Carter."

I nearly jump at the voice. Damien Blackwood’s assistant, Helen, stands at the reception desk, her sharp eyes scanning me like she’s deciding if I’m even worthy of being here. She’s a tall woman with sleek black hair pulled into a bun, her fitted gray dress perfectly wrinkle-free.

"Mr. Blackwood is ready for you," she says, gesturing toward the massive double doors at the end of the hall.

I swallow hard and nod. "Thank you."

As I walk past her, I swear I hear a tiny scoff, but I push it out of my mind. Focus on the meeting, Mia.

Reaching the doors, I raise my fist to knock, but before I can, a deep voice from inside calls out.

"Come in."

I push the doors open and step inside.

The office is as intimidating as its owner. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city skyline, while dark oak shelves line the walls, filled with books and files. A massive black desk sits in the center of the room, and behind it, Damien Blackwood himself.

The man is impossible to ignore.

Damien sits with his fingers steepled, piercing gray eyes locked onto me the second I enter. His tailored black suit fits him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders. His dark hair is neatly styled, but there’s something wild in his sharp features, in the way he stares like he can see right through me.

For a moment, I forget how to breathe.

"Miss Carter," he says smoothly, his voice deep and unreadable. "Sit."

I force my legs to move and lower myself into the leather chair across from him. My hands feel clammy, but I keep my expression neutral.

"You have ten minutes," he continues. "Impress me."

No pressure, right?

I clear my throat, open my folder, and start. "Mr. Blackwood, I’ve prepared a strategy that will not only strengthen our market presence but also—"

"Stop."

I freeze.

Damien leans forward, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Skip the script. Tell me why your strategy is better than what we already have."

I blink, my mind scrambling. He’s testing me. He doesn’t want rehearsed lines—he wants proof that I know my work inside and out.

I square my shoulders. "Because our current strategy isn’t working," I say firmly. "Silver Moon’s engagement rates have dropped by 15% this quarter. Our competitors are catching up. My plan rebrands our campaign and targets younger audiences, expanding our reach. It’s bold, but it will work."

For a long moment, Damien says nothing. His fingers tap against the desk, his eyes searching mine.

Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth twitches.

Not a smile—just the ghost of one.

"Interesting," he murmurs.

A strange heat coils in my stomach. Did I… just pass his test?

Before I can figure it out, Damien straightens, his expression hardening again. "Leave your proposal with Helen. I’ll review it."

I hesitate. "Does that mean—"

"It means you’ll get an answer when I’m ready," he cuts in. His tone isn’t cruel, but it’s firm. Dismissive.

I clench my jaw, but I nod. "Understood, Mr. Blackwood."

I gather my things and stand. As I turn to leave, I feel his gaze still on me, following my every move.

I don’t look back.

*

The second I step out of the office, I exhale, my whole body sagging with relief. That was intense.

Helen gives me a pointed look as I place my folder on her desk. "That was faster than I expected," she remarks, her tone unreadable.

"Yeah," I mutter. "He doesn’t waste time, does he?"

She actually smirks at that. "No, he doesn’t."

I don’t wait around for more small talk. I just want to get out of here before my legs give out.

But as I walk to the elevator, I swear I can still feel Damien Blackwood’s eyes on me.

*

I barely make it to my office before I slump into my chair, rubbing my temples.

"What the hell just happened?" I whisper to myself.

One second, I was giving a presentation. The next, I was locked in some unspoken battle with the most intimidating man I’ve ever met.

And what was that look he gave me? That sharp, assessing stare?

A shiver runs through me.

My phone buzzes, breaking my thoughts. It’s my best friend and coworker, Leah.

Leah: How did the big bad CEO meeting go??

I sigh and type back.

Me: I don’t know. He’s impossible to read.

Her reply is instant.

Leah: But was he hot?

I groan and toss my phone aside. That is NOT the point.

…But yes. Yes, he was.

*

That night, I stay late at the office, going over campaign details. Most employees have gone home, and the halls are eerily quiet.

As I stretch my arms, I hear something. A low growl.

I freeze.

Did I imagine that?

I stand slowly, listening. But there’s only silence now.

Shaking my head, I grab my bag. I need sleep.

As I step into the hallway, I glance toward the executive offices. The lights in Damien’s office are still on.

He’s still here.

For some reason, that sends a strange shiver down my spine.

Then, just as I turn to leave, I hear it again.

That deep, almost animalistic growl.

And this time… it’s coming from inside Damien Blackwood’s office.