Elena’s POV

I get into the back seat, my mind trying to perfectly grasp what is going on. But suddenly, air is

almost knocked out of my lungs when I take in the person sitting next to me.

Damian Crowe.

Just how…why…where…

“Miss Mandy, you are late," he murmurs, his deep baritone filling the car. The gates open, and

the driver rolls in, not paying us any mind. He could have at least warned me that there was

someone else in the car.

I squeak, and he pulls his gaze to me for a flitting second before returning it to the papers in his

hands. I sneak a peek. Something about the current state of the corporate sector.

Of course.

“The person who referred you swore that you had handled … difficult situations and knew how

to work your way around it.” He gives me another lazy glance before going on. “But from the

look of things, I really doubt it.”

My throat is dry. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Mr. Crowe…”

He gazes at my feet. “If she needs you to urgently do something for her, how will you get it done

in something as high and thin as that? Do you even know what this job entails?”

I swallow, wishing I had listened to Mandy. I should tell him I am a different person, but

wouldn’t that suggest that I will never even get to the interview grounds? I am a hundred percent

sure that he is going to kick me out of the car and leave me to walk in these impossible heels

back to the gate.

“I can take them off?” I murmur in a high-pitched tone, glancing up at him. My response sounds

like a question, and he catches that too. The stoic expression he wears on his face like a second

skin doesn’t change.

He flicks to the next page in the papers. Sports Politics. “This isn’t a joke, Miss Mandy. If you think it is, my driver can let you off now. I will be happy

to inform your brother that this didn’t work out.”

Great. Mandy left out the important part of this interview. I wonder if she is having a great laugh

about it wherever she is.

“No,” I breathe, shaking my head. “This isn’t a joke to me, I promise. I …I can do a good job. I

can take care of your kid. She will love me as much as I already love her.”

That manages to get a lazy smirk out of him.

“Maybe keep the excitement to a minimum?” he suggests, finally folding the papers and putting

them away. “Sophia and love are walls apart.”

I wonder what he means by that, but I am distracted by the towering trees that come into my line

of vision. From this point, it looks like there is nothing else on the road apart from unending pine

trees.

But in a few seconds, the driver makes a turn, and the trees break into the most stunning home I

have ever seen.

My mouth falls wide open as I take in the stunning archaic structure, as if brought to life out of a

classical romance piece. The walls are made of stone, huge and imposing. Trees surround it, as if

paying obeisance to its mere existence.

There is a water fountain in the middle of the space, but even that looks old, hewn out of rock.

The sound of the water makes me think of rainfall, the soft patters against a windowsill.

I have no idea when the car halts or when Mr. Crowe steps out of the car. The driver knocks on

the window on my side, and I snap out of it.

“You can go in now, Miss.”

He helps me with the door, and I head towards the gigantic archway leading to the entrance. It

smells of flowers and nature, and I wonder if there is a lake somewhere at the back.

A butler appears at the door and nods politely, motioning me in. The inside of the building is

even more jaw-dropping than the outside, with the hearth flickering away in all its beauty, a low chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a bookshelf on one corner, and a staircase snaking away

with wooden handles.

But the smile on my face wanes when I take in the other ladies seated on the couch. My eyes do

the math. 10. Once again, Mandy was right.

“You can have your seat, Miss,” the butler says. “Mr. Crowe will be here to join you soon.”

I nod and find an empty space on the fur couch, plopping into its softness. The ladies eye me

warily, and even though I try all I can not to look at them, my eyes keep bringing me back to

their faces.

Compared to me, they look prepared, in their sensible clothes and flats. And it shows in their

eyes the fact that they already think I have lost the job.

Maybe they are right, because I feel the same way.

The air in the room crackles when Mr. Crowe steps in, with a little girl in beautiful green eyes,

the same shade as mine. She clings to his arms as if she cannot bear to be apart from him,

peeking out from behind his legs shyly.

His eyes find mine easily, and I swallow, temporarily forgetting how to breathe. The room feels

too hot, despite the fact that I am in a tube top.

Mr. Crowe pulls his gaze away from me. “Hello, Ladies.” His voice doesn’t sound as light as the

word. “As you saw in the invitation, this is a highly private arrangement. It is the reason you

were all made to sign an NDA before the address was sent to you.”

My eyes shine wide in surprise. Mandy signed an NDA? This just keeps getting more

complicated. I am going to roast that girl alive when I get back.

“Sophia is very important to me, and her safety is my priority. You cannot go talking about

where I live to others. Not even your friends.”

“I understand,” one of the applicants says in a breathy tone. If I were not so worried about my

own situation, I would have rolled my eyes. “I am a professional in keeping secrets, so you and

your daughter can rest assured that no one will hear a whisper of this.”

Mr. Crowe ignores her. “Can we start, then?” He looks at his daughter. “Make your choice, honey.”