Chapter 2
Joanna's POV
I stood before the King Tower, craning my neck to look up at this glass tower that pierced the clouds. Standing here, I felt like a prisoner walking to the gallows.
My palms were sweating as I clutched my worn fake leather bag—containing my meager resume and a nearly empty ballpoint pen. Everyone passing by wore expensive suits and walked with confident strides, while I stood there in a black coat from a thrift store, feeling like a fraud.
In the elevator, a woman glanced at me with obvious disdain. I heard her whisper to her companion, "They'll let anyone into King Enterprises these days."
My face burned, but I gritted my teeth. For Mom, for Tommy, I had to endure this.
The elevator stopped at the top floor. The assistant—a woman who looked colder than my coat—said icily, "Mr. King is waiting."
I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy door.
Sebastian sat behind that massive black desk like a king on his throne. When I entered, he looked up, and those deep eyes made my breath catch again.
"Sit." His voice held no warmth.
I carefully took the chair across from him, feeling like he was studying me under a microscope.
"Tell me," he said suddenly, his voice strangely tense, "do you feel like we've met before?"
I froze. "Other than yesterday at the café..."
"No." He cut me off, his gaze sharpening. "Before that. Long ago."
I shook my head, completely confused. "I don't remember..."
Something flickered in his eyes—disappointment? Pain? But it was quickly replaced by ice.
He stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to me. "Your resume is... interesting. Non-profits, community service." His tone was mocking. "Tell me, do you really believe you can change the world?"
"I..." I struggled for the right words. "I believe everyone deserves help."
He turned, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. "Everyone?" He walked slowly toward me. "Even those who've hurt you?"
I didn't know how to answer. His question was too strange, like he knew something I didn't.
"You're too naive, Joanna." His voice became soft, almost like he was talking to himself. "Just like she was..."
"She?" I couldn't help asking.
His face darkened instantly. "That's none of your business."
I didn't dare press further, reminding myself I was here for one thing: money .
The test that followed was a nightmare. He threw a thick stack of documents at me, every page crammed with business terms I couldn't understand.
"Ten minutes." He checked his watch. "Tell me the key points of this acquisition plan."
My hands shook. These words were like alien language to me—"leveraged buyout," "due diligence," "equity dilution"...
I frantically flipped pages, trying to find anything I could comprehend.
Time ticked by. I could feel his gaze burning into me like a laser. Sweat ran down my spine.
"Time's up." His voice was like a judge pronouncing a death sentence.
I stammered through an explanation, but every word felt like a stone stuck in my throat. He listened for less than a minute before raising his hand to stop me.
"Enough." He stood and walked around the desk to face me. "Do you know what you just said? Complete nonsense."
I hung my head, my cheeks burning. "I'm sorry, I..."
"Look at me." He suddenly commanded.
I slowly raised my head to meet his eyes.
"You're hired."
I couldn't believe my ears. "What?"
"You heard me," His voice turned cold again. "you can go back and get ready now."
In a panic, I nodded and walked out quickly as if I was running away with my bag
The next morning, I walked back into the lion's den, my first official day as his assistant.
My first day was worse than I'd imagined. The tasks he assigned were completely beyond my abilities—organizing complex financial statements, scheduling meetings with important clients, handling legal documents I couldn't understand.
At three o'clock, he sent me to the conference room to set up the presentation for a client meeting. My hands were still shaking from nerves, but I told myself I had to do this right.
The conference room was intimidating. Soon, a dozen executives would be scrutinizing my every move.
I fumbled with the projector remote, trying to get the presentation slides to display properly.
Sebastian had given me a stack of documents and a USB drive with strict instructions that nothing could go wrong.
When the clients arrived, I stood nervously by the presentation screen, remote in one hand, backup documents in the other. Sebastian was deep in discussion with the lead client.
Between my nerves and Sebastian's intimidating presence, I was a wreck. When he nodded for me to advance the slide, I panicked. I pressed multiple buttons at once, and suddenly the screen went black.
The room went dead silent.
"What did you do?" Sebastian's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"I... I don't know, I just..." I frantically pressed buttons, but nothing worked. In my panic, I stepped backward and caught my heel on the projector cord.
What happened next was a disaster. I stumbled, arms flailing, and the stack of important documents flew from my hands like confetti. Papers scattered everywhere.
I crashed into Sebastian's chair, and he instinctively reached out to steady me. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest before I could hit the ground. My face pressed against his shirt, and I could smell that faint cedar scent, feel the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat—surprisingly fast, just like mine.
Nobody said a word. Important documents were scattered across the polished table and floor. The projector screen remained ominously black.
"Well, this is certainly... memorable," one client said dryly.
"Is this how King Enterprises usually handles presentations?" another voice added with barely concealed disdain.
I tried to pull away, but Sebastian's arm held me tight. I looked up to find him staring down at me, his jaw clenched.
"Don't move," he whispered in my ear, his voice hoarse. "You've embarrassed yourself enough."
But strangely, though his words were cruel, the arm holding me was trembling slightly. As if he was fighting some internal battle.
I wasn't the only one affected by whatever this was between us.
Back in the office, I sat at the small assistant's desk, my hands still shaking. I tried to focus on organizing files, but my mind kept replaying what had just happened.
The feeling of his arm around me...
I shook my head hard. What was I thinking? He'd just humiliated me, made me lose face in front of everyone. How could I still be thinking about his embrace?
But I couldn't deny that when he held me, I'd felt a strange sense of safety, like... like coming home.
This was ridiculous. I didn't even know this man, except that he was a cold, ruthless billionaire who seemed to enjoy tormenting me.
When I got home, it was almost ten. Mom was still coughing, Tommy was already asleep. I sat by his bed, looking at his innocent sleeping face, guilt washing over me.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Tomorrow. 6 PM. Don't ask questions. —S"
But tomorrow was Saturday.
My stomach dropped. What was he planning now?
