The first time I ever laid eyes on Ethan Blackwood, I thought he was carved from ice. His expression was unreadable, his suit sharper than a blade, and his voice deep and smooth rolled across the boardroom like thunder. Everyone seemed to shrink beneath his gaze. Everyone except me. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

But the truth? My hands trembled beneath the polished table, clutching my pen as if it could anchor me in place.

It was only my second week at Blackwood Enterprises, and somehow, out of all the employees in the marketing department, I had been chosen to deliver the progress report. Not my manager, not anyone with years of experience me, Aria Collins, the twenty-four-year-old assistant still figuring out how to work the company’s fancy espresso machine.

I could feel his eyes on me before I dared to look up. Those stormy blue eyes everyone whispered about. The kind of eyes that stripped you bare, layer by layer, until you weren’t sure if you should run or kneel.

“Miss Collins,” he said, his voice sending shivers down my spine. “You’re wasting time. Get to the point.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I fumbled with the papers in my hand, trying to steady my voice. “Y-yes, sir. The campaign has… has already gained traction, and we ”

“Numbers, not feelings,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but calm, like a knife sliding through silk. “Do you have them or not?”

My heart thudded painfully. Around me, senior executives kept their eyes down, pretending not to watch me crumble. This was Ethan Blackwood thirty years old, the youngest CEO in the industry, a man who had taken over his late father’s empire and tripled its worth in less than five years. He wasn’t known for patience.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his gaze. My hands shook, but I flipped to the right page and read out the numbers. My voice wavered, but I didn’t stop.

When I finished, a silence fell over the room. For a terrifying second, I thought I’d failed. But then, the corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile, not even close just a subtle shift that made my chest tighten.

“Better,” he murmured. “At least you know how to recover from mistakes.”

Relief flooded me, so strong I almost sagged in my chair. But then he leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, and his next words froze me all over again.

“You’ll be working directly with me on the next phase.”

The room shifted. Executives glanced at one another in shock. No assistant ever worked directly with the CEO.

I managed a nod, though inside I was screaming. Working with him meant late nights, impossible expectations, and constant pressure. It also meant those eyes always on me, always testing, always seeing too much.

When the meeting ended, I gathered my papers quickly, eager to escape. But as I turned toward the door, his voice cut through the room.

“Miss Collins.”

I froze, my breath catching. Slowly, I looked back. He was still seated, his gaze locked on me as if I were the only person left in the room.

“Next time,” he said softly, “look at me when you speak. Confidence is as important as numbers.”

I nodded, muttering a shaky, “Yes, sir,” before fleeing.

By the time I made it back to my tiny cubicle, my knees were weak. I collapsed into my chair, burying my face in my hands.

“You survived!” Maya’s voice chirped from behind me. My best friend and coworker, though she worked in HR perched on the edge of my desk with her usual grin. Her glossy black hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she had that mischievous sparkle in her eyes that always made me nervous.

“I think I died in there,” I groaned. “He hates me.”

Maya laughed. “Honey, if Ethan Blackwood hated you, you’d already be unemployed. The fact that you’re still breathing means he sees something in you.”

“Or he wants to watch me suffer,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

Maya leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Or maybe he just likes staring at you.”

My heart skipped. “Maya!”

She grinned wider. “I saw the way he looked at you. That man doesn’t look at anyone. He looks through them. But you? He looked at you, Aria. Like you were a puzzle he wanted to solve.”

I shook my head, refusing to let the thought take root. “You’re imagining things. He’s my boss. That’s all.”

But as the words left my mouth, I remembered the weight of his gaze, the quiet authority in his voice when he told me to look at him, the way his eyes seemed to pierce straight into me.

And deep down, in the corner of my heart I tried to ignore, I knew Maya wasn’t imagining anything at all.

That night, as I packed my bag and glanced out the office window, the city lights glittered below like a sea of stars. I should have felt small, invisible, safe.

But I didn’t.

Because even as I walked toward the elevator, I could feel it that heavy, magnetic pull. And when I turned my head, just before the doors closed, I caught sight of him standing at the end of the corridor, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on me.

Ethan Blackwood.

My boss.

The man I had promised myself I would never think about.

And yet, as the elevator carried me down into the night, my heart whispered the truth I was too afraid to say out loud.

It was already too late.