Lina Hart learned very quickly that surviving Damien Foxworth's first full day was not about intelligence or preparation.
It was about endurance.
She arrived thirty minutes early, determined not to give him a single reason to look at her the way he had yesterday—like she was a mistake waiting to happen. The executive floor was still quiet, the city outside wrapped in pale morning fog.
Her desk sat directly outside his glass office.
No walls. No privacy.
Just her, her computer, and the constant awareness that Damien Foxworth could see her at any moment.
She had barely logged into her system when the glass door slid open.
"You're early," Damien said.
It wasn't praise. It wasn't a complaint.
Just an observation.
"Yes, sir."
"Good." He paused, eyes sweeping over her neat appearance. "You'll need the time."
That was how the day began.
---
The schedule he handed her was brutal.
Meetings stacked on meetings, calls from international partners, documents that needed reviewing immediately, and emails marked urgent that somehow felt more dangerous than the word implied.
Lina worked through them all with steady focus, fingers flying over the keyboard, her mind organizing chaos into something manageable. She triple-checked times, confirmed locations, and memorized Damien's preferences with frightening speed.
No sugar in his coffee.
Black tea at precisely eleven.
No interruptions during strategy calls—unless the board was involved.
At exactly ten forty-two, she knocked lightly on the glass.
"Yes?" Damien said without looking up.
"Your eleven o'clock call has been moved to eleven-fifteen," Lina said. "The Tokyo office requested a delay."
He looked up then, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"Because their lead analyst collapsed."
A pause.
Damien studied her, expression unreadable. "Acceptable."
She exhaled only after walking away.
It was like that all morning.
Every interaction felt like a test.
And somehow—against her own expectations—she passed.
---
By midday, the executive floor had filled with quiet movement. Assistants whispered, executives strode past, and Lina's inbox flooded with requests.
"Ms. Hart," one of the senior managers said sharply, stopping at her desk. "Mr. Foxworth's availability has changed."
"No, it hasn't," Lina replied calmly, eyes still on her screen.
The man stiffened. "Excuse me?"
She looked up. "He blocked out this afternoon for contract review. I confirmed it personally."
The manager hesitated. "I… see."
He left without another word.
Lina swallowed, her heart racing.
She hadn't realized Damien was standing behind her until his reflection appeared in the glass.
"Well handled," he said quietly.
She startled. "Sir—"
"You didn't defer," he continued. "You didn't apologize unnecessarily."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You corrected him."
Her pulse spiked. "I thought… that was my job."
A pause.
"Yes," Damien said. "It is."
For a fleeting second, something like approval crossed his face.
It vanished just as quickly.
---
The incident should have ended there.
It didn't.
An hour later, a woman from marketing stormed toward Lina's desk, heels sharp against the carpet.
"You moved my meeting," she snapped.
"Yes," Lina replied evenly. "It conflicted with Mr. Foxworth's legal review."
"You don't get to decide that."
"I do," Lina said. "That's why I'm here."
The woman scoffed. "You're new. You don't know how things work."
Before Lina could respond, the glass door slid open.
"I know exactly how things work," Damien said coolly.
The woman froze.
Damien stepped beside Lina, his presence immediate and commanding. "And if my assistant moved your meeting, it was because I approved it."
"I—I didn't realize—"
"That much is clear," Damien said. "You're dismissed."
The woman fled.
Lina stared straight ahead, her hands clenched beneath the desk.
"You handled yourself well," Damien said.
"Thank you, sir."
His gaze lingered on her profile. "You're learning quickly."
It wasn't praise.
But it felt close.
---
By late afternoon, exhaustion settled deep into Lina's bones.
Her head ached. Her feet hurt. And yet—she felt strangely accomplished.
Until the lights flickered.
Just once.
No one else reacted.
Lina frowned, glancing up at the ceiling.
The air shifted—subtle, almost imperceptible—but the sensation prickled across her skin.
She looked toward Damien's office.
He stood rigid, one hand braced against his desk, eyes darkened to a deep, glowing gold.
The glass trembled.
Lina's breath caught.
Then, as quickly as it began, it stopped.
Damien straightened, his expression once again perfectly composed. The golden light faded from his eyes.
"Ms. Hart," he said sharply.
"Yes?"
"Bring me the Kessler files."
"Right away."
Her hands shook as she gathered the documents.
You're imagining things, she told herself again.
But this time, the lie felt thinner.
---
As evening fell, the executive floor emptied.
One by one, lights dimmed, footsteps faded, and silence returned.
Lina checked the clock.
7:46 p.m.
She hesitated, then stood and approached the glass door.
"Sir?" she asked softly.
Damien looked up. "What is it?"
"Everyone's gone. I wanted to ask if you needed anything else before I—"
"Sit," he said.
She obeyed, perching on the chair across from his desk.
"You didn't leave," Damien observed.
"I didn't think it was appropriate."
He studied her intently, fingers steepled. "Most people would have."
"I'm not most people."
Something flickered in his eyes—interest this time, unmistakable.
"You're human," he said slowly.
The words sent a chill down her spine.
"Yes," she replied carefully. "I am."
"Hm."
The silence stretched, heavy and strange.
"You weren't afraid today," Damien said at last.
Lina hesitated. "I was. I just didn't let it show."
A corner of his mouth lifted—almost a smile.
"Interesting."
He rose from his chair, moving toward the window. The city lights glittered below like stars.
"Go home," he said quietly. "You've done enough."
"Thank you, sir."
As she gathered her things, she felt his gaze follow her.
"Ms. Hart," he added.
She turned.
"Tomorrow," he said, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, "will be harder."
She nodded. "I'll be ready."
When the elevator doors finally closed behind her, Lina leaned against the wall, heart racing.
She had survived.
Barely.
And as she descended toward the human world below, Damien Foxworth remained by the glass, watching her reflection disappear.
For centuries, he had ruled boardrooms and fox clans alike without hesitation.
But now—
Now his arrogance had found resistance.
And his interest had found a name.
Lina Hart.
The nine-tailed fox smiled, slow and dangerous.
Tomorrow would be very interesting.