"Did I stutter?" Darius asked.
He didn't move, yet I felt pinned to my chair by the sheer weight of his stare.
"I can't pay for that..."
"It's not a gift," he cut me off. "It means you're available twenty-four hours every day. Clear?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Clear, sir."
"Get dressed. You look exhausted."
"Yes, sir. I am."
"That seems like a personal problem. We have a meeting in Thirty minutes. And Miss Onyx?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't let me see those suitcases again."
He turned on his heel and vanished into the hall.
I sat there for a heartbeat, my hands shaking.
'This is unbelievable.'
Before I could even reach for the elevator, Darius's voice cut back in from the hallway.
He returned briefly and handed me a note.
An address.
'In my confusion, I had forgotten that.'
My fingers closed around the paper. "Thank you, sir."
He left without another word.
I arrived at the apartment building and I half-expected the security outside to stop me but the moment I mentioned Darius Crowne's name, everything shifted.
Inside the apartment a woman stepped forward from the reception desk with a key card already in her hand.
"Miss Onyx?" she asked.
I nodded, still trying to process how fast everything had changed.
She placed the key into my palm without hesitation. "Your apartment key."
The apartment was opulent but there was no time to admire how well placed everything was.
I rushed into the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and swapped my wrinkled blazer for the only clean blouse I had left.
–+–
I made it back with two minutes to spare.
"New secretary, you came back," a man called from the lounge area.
I stopped, recognizing the casual lean of one of the junior executives I'd seen yesterday. "What do you mean?"
"Usually by now, he has already fucked the new secretary and paid her off," he said, checking his watch with a smirk. "What did you do differently?"
"I did nothing," I snapped.
"Nothing? Really? You expect me to believe that?"
"I...Just..."
"Whatever you say. I hope you survive the week. Most don't."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's just statistics. You're just the flavour of the month."
"Listen, Alex," I said, catching the name on his tag. "I have to go."
"Of course. To do your job." He laid a heavy, filthy emphasis on the word.
"Now look here—"
"I quit this morning," Alex interrupted, raising a hand. "I can't work under an employer with no regard for women, and I certainly don't have to take a lecture from his latest plaything."
"I am his secretary, not his plaything."
"If you say so sweetheart."
He walked away before I could slap him, which was becoming a recurring urge today. I turned to head toward the conference room, but a familiar voice stopped me.
"He's looking for you."
It was the blonde from yesterday, the one who had mocked me in the lounge.
"The CEO?" I asked.
"Obviously. The meeting started three minutes ago."
"I was getting settled in the—"
"I don't care," she snapped. "Just go. Unless you want your first day to be your last."
I hurried to the boardroom. I pushed the doors open as quietly as possible, but in a room of billionaires, even a whisper sounds like a scream.
Darius didn't look up from his tablet. "Sit, Miss Onyx. You're late."
"I'm sorry, sir. I—"
"Page twelve."
I sank into the nearest chair, feeling the weight of a dozen judgmental stares. I spent the next two hours scribbling notes until my wrist ached, trying to ignore the way Darius's voice seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards noting that he wasn't just a playboy, he was really good at what he does.
–+–
When the meeting finally broke, the room emptied fast. I started to gather my things, my head spinning with talk of mergers and acquisitions.
"Miss Onyx. My office."
I froze.
'Probably about this morning. I can't afford to lose this job now.'
I followed him into his office. He sat behind his desk, the city skyline framed behind him.
"Sir, I can explain about the suitcases and the delay—"
"Sit. Miss Onyx."
Fighting the urge to bolt, I sank into the chair and braced myself.
Without a word, he opened a drawer, took out a leather-bound portfolio, and set it on the desk in front of me.
He opened the portfolio and turned it toward me.
I fixed my eyes on him, scared of what it would find when I looked down.
"I need someone reliable."
I looked up at him, confused. "Sir?"
"Someone discreet. Tell me what's your price, Brielle."
"My price? I don't understand the question."
"Everyone has one," he said leaning back. "If a journalist approached you tonight and offered you fifty thousand dollars for the details of that portfolio, would you take it?
"No sir."
"Why? Loyalty? We met yesterday. You don't owe me anything."
"I'm broke, Mr Crowne, not a thief." I whispered
"What if i asked you to do something..questionable? Something that wasn't in your job description?"
"I'll do my job sir."
"And if that job requires total surrender of your privacy?"
My fingers curled together in my lap. " I don't understand why you're asking me this Mr Crowne. If this is about today. I know I already made several mistakes but please don't dismiss me."
For the first time all day, his mouth shifted, not quite a smile but close.
"This isn't about your job."
"It's not."
"Then why am I here."
He slid the portfolio a little closer.
My brain was still trying to recover from the fact that I wasn't being escorted out by security.
So I forced myself to speak.
"I… I mean, I'll hear it out, Mr. Crowne, if that's acceptable."
"It's a contract."
"Is it...legal?"
"Perfectly. Though it's unconventional and requires a specific kind of commitment. It's a marriage contract."
For a second, I thought I had heard him wrong.
"Marry me, Miss Onyx. Yes or yes?"