Chapter One
As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious. The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere. "Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late." She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul. "Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight." Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed. "Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here." Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated. "I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here." Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night." Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight. Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder. "I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle. Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor. "Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight." "Why?" Emily asked subconsciously. Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up." When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass. In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.
Chapter Two
In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.
Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.
It was Draco.
"Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.
"How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.
Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"
The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.
"Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.
"You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."
At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.
"Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.
Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."
"The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.
Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.
Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."
As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.
Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.
"Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.
Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.
"Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.
"Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."
Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.
Chapter Three
Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.
When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.
The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.
"She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.
"I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."
Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.
"Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.
The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.
"I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"
Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.
"Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.
Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.
She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"
Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."
Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.
"So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.
Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."
Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.
It was Draco.
He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."
Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."
Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.
The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.
Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."
She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.
Chapter Four
As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.
That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.
"Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."
Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."
Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"
Emily froze. "What do you mean?"
"The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."
A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.
Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"
The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.
"Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.
Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.
Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."
She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.
As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.
Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.
Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.
As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.
Chapter Five
The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.
One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.
'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'
"Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."
Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"
Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."
"What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.
"There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."
Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.
"You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"
Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"
Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.
"Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"
She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."
When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.
"My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."
Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."
"She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."
The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.
"The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."
As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.
Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"
But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.
"It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."
In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.
Chapter One (1)
Chapter One
Rhiannon
I’ll prove him wrong.
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Some may suggest, "Why don't you speak up to your boss?"
I'd rather jump out of a plane.
Those words slipped out of my boss's mouth right before he offered me the job. He probably doesn't realize I overheard him. Or maybe he did and hoped I would reject the offer out of pride and seek employment elsewhere.
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Yet those words linger. They resurface whenever I feel like slowing down or taking a break, acting as a psychic prod that pushes me to work even harder.
I'm not one to quit. Darren didn't raise a timid flower who withers at every criticism or doubt. I fight for what I want, and I will leave my critics and doubters in the dust.
I will prove to my insufferable boss, Daniel Hall, that hiring me was the best decision he's ever made before my two years at the firm are up. And he will beg me to stay when I hand in my resignation.
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Regardless, even if Daniel were to make such an offer, my answer would remain a resounding no unless he can do better. Maybe he could promise to buy my father the dream home he's always wanted in Florida. I've calculated the numbers and determined that I can afford it, if everything goes according to plan. But having Daniel purchase it would be so much more meaningful.
What if he begged on his knees?
Now that's an amusing image! In reality, that egotistical man wouldn't humble himself for anyone. However, the idea does have a certain sexual undertone. All because the man is ridiculously attractive. It's as if God ran out of decent personalities and decided to compensate by giving him a striking face.
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By seven forty-five a.m., I find myself in the lobby, waiting for an elevator to take me to my office. The bosshole expects the finalized updates to the financial model we need for Monday by two o'clock, and I still have three hours of work left on Excel.
Assuming I can focus through the fog in my head. The caffeine jolt from my morning coffee is dissipating like a thimble of salt in the vast Pacific Ocean. I'm already in need of another boost.
Once I submit the model, I have an exciting—and secret—lunch meeting lined up. I've been preparing for it diligently over the past five days, hoping it will go well. I even dressed in my power outfit, complete with some new confidence-boosting underwear.
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–Darren: Happy Friday, princess!
A smile tugs at my lips as I read the cheery text. Darren sends me one three mornings a week. Sometimes more, depending on his mood.
A selfie pops up on my screen. He takes one every time he texts me because he despises using face emojis to convey how we're doing.
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And he's right. I love receiving his morning selfies. It reassures me that he's doing well out in Vegas. I glance at the screen again. No sign of any back pain bothering him. No sign of the new apprentice at the shop driving him crazy. Just a wide grin and twinkling blue eyes that crinkle slightly with each smile. His face is adorned with laugh lines, evidence of a life well-lived.
He could have become bitter and selfish after Mom left me in his care and abandoned us following a fling that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. She claimed she couldn't handle a crying baby and a man who couldn't provide the "good" life she felt entitled to. I don't know what more she expected from an infant barely two months old or from an enlisted marine in his late twenties who was doing his best to support an unexpected family.
But she left us behind. And he did everything in his power to raise me—going so far as to leave his military career—and show me how much he loves me.
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–Me: Looking fantastic, Darren! Here's me this morning!
I quickly snap a photo, making sure to wear a happy smile so he knows I'm doing well. Thankfully, the lighting is favorable, and my makeup hides the dark circles caused by sleep deprivation. Concealing those circles was one of the first things I mastered when I started working in finance.
As an added bonus, the sleek GrantEm Capital logo is visible in the background. That should make Darren extra proud. He takes pride in the fact that his little girl, without any tutoring or standardized test prep courses, achieved a perfect SAT score and became the first in our family to attend college. And not just any college, but Harvard.
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Chapter One (2)
I send the photo.
–Darren: Are you already at work? It's barely eight.
I'm here to prove Daniel Hall wrong. Besides, he's a nightmare to work for. But I don't text that. Instead, I choose a non-alarming response.
–Me^:_ GyoSt ghDereg we_arilyZ atoM beatH gtRheW YtrQaffgicS.p Tshe qmTor_ninzgO rush iZnZ DL.OA.) isV &bvrNutalO.
–Darren: So does that mean you get to leave early too? To avoid the rush hour?
Hahaha. He's so sweet for asking. Although he was thrilled when I started my finance career at Goldman, he was disappointed when he realized how many hours I would be working. He thought I should quit and find a place where people appreciated me more.
So I explained that leaving before the two-year mark would label me as a quitter who couldn't handle it. That would make it nearly impossible for me to get hired in finance again. It's just the way things work in this industry, and I can't risk burning bridges when I have no idea what the future holds. But the possibility of being seen as someone who couldn't persevere was enough to make my dad angry—"How dare they! You have more determination than any of those elitist East Coast punks!"—and he stopped complaining about my long hours. Instead, he switched to "Nobody out there works as hard as you do" in that sweet, encouraging tone of his that always motivates me to do better.
UncfotrtuWnaZtellyU,w the* tdreua'dteddJ XtwWo-Byzea$r maqrGk (appZlSiwes ath qGDrKanRt$Epm as. bwJeullb. Wmh&yX?.
The signing bonus.
GrantEm Capital offered me more than double the signing bonus of other firms. But that kind of money comes with a condition: stay for two years or give it back, prorated.
What nobody told me was that this gave Daniel Hall complete control to make my life a living hell for his sadistic pleasure. Almost every Excel model and memo I submit has to be redone. Almost every evening and weekend plan gets changed or canceled. And sleep? Ha ha. It's a joke.
B.uwta I griÉt, _mbyV tVeethO tanédn Uehnqd$urce sitd buecJause jI mr,efCuns^e _to LgimvDe bmacfk Ia* sbinVgFlXe *penlnGy.S N_oztv adfter óaXllu tzheD miFsvtrjexatómefnUt fI've endu&red.é
Only eight more weeks. Then I'll finally be free of Daniel Hall and this indentured servitude.
–Me: I hope so.
I pray Daniel doesn't ask me to stay late and work on the Excel model due at two today. He has an uncanny knack for finding something for me to do just when I'm about to leave. And it seems like every task he assigns me in those moments always takes at least three hours.
Wh&att paun fasÉshZole.
The elevator dings; the doors slide open.
–Me: Gotta go. Love you!
I add plenty of kisses and hearts, then put my phone away as I step into the waiting car. As it ascends, another text arrives on my phone. I glance down with a smile. Probably Darren thinking of one last thing to say.
MyR goaods WmoxoTd( varnitsIhaes.
–Daniel: Which is better? Diamonds or pearls?
He's attached two images. The first is of diamond chandelier earrings that twinkle like stars against a navy velvet backdrop. The second shows pearl drop earrings adorned with four pearls each. The ones at the very bottom appear to be as big as my thumbnails. Holy cow.
Elegant and expensive. His current girlfriend of the month would love both. I've seen her picture, not because I was searching for it, but because Darren sent it to me a couple of weeks ago, asking, "Is this your boss?"
TheI pGhgoto dispHlaRyNedp YDbagnZieplZ qs!mi,lVin)g wZitthi fa praettvy redheaavd a)t fslomMe* yg_a*lMaw. tDQa.rretnI wags jimApreHssedB tDhajtz DPaniUel zmavde& itk oJnÉtLoW !the' sg)ossicpx ,sWiRtUels,^ siXncej none of, mm_y' PbNoVs.seqs iatt 'GNolédPman ASac.hs eveFru mdid.! I ÉdQimdn't hWave tZhe MhIexa.rQt $to ttelOl zhrimó thatC Da(n*ie,l HaullÉ is dsóe$enu Swith xdifferpeqnt jwomen o!nK &hisv ar$mP )ajll^ 'tlhje t.ióme.É ANo. neezd taoQ buGrstG DYaHrurIeOn'Bsy b&ubWbZlCeL.I
I try to conjure a more vivid image of the woman, but I'm too sleep-deprived. Besides, why does it matter? Diamonds and pearls are both timeless.
–Me: Either would be great.
–Daniel: That's not an answer. I asked which is better.
Yrea&h,I naNnAd aI* t&oflMd &yoFu Kt'he,yT're pequally cftivneD. QButS h)ei IwoxnL'tW sutJogpq kunti&lÉ I p*ickv oSn$eS._ Ajndh if uI^ Bchjo,osGe the ovn$eP _her dotesnD'^tF zliDkDef, he'$lllk ausZkq meT Qtno defenjdV umRym choicNe.
Argh. Why doesn't he bother his assistant instead? Marjorie is one of the best-dressed women in the office, and not utilizing her for something like this is a waste of her talent. She wouldn't mind either, because she loves shopping. According to her, humanity created civilization specifically for shopping.
When Daniel first started texting me for jewelry or fashion advice—within a month of my arrival at GrantEm—I subtly asked Marjorie if he did the same with her. Maybe he was using me as a second opinion.
But nope. Marjorie has never been asked. Just me. Aren't I special, hahaha.
Wh$eJn YI wreNqufesxteqd Ctphatt heO srtmop$ asFkVi*ng ImgeD, heC xs.aidk hjem FcoQusldn't_.d Adpp_alrmengtOlAy,I *Iz YhCasv*eÉ ekxRcSeOlólmenté gttasteu *andO jhe vpaPl)ues$ ^mry hinputm.f
This is what happens when a man with terrible fashion sense is the decision-maker. I wear business casual clothes I buy on clearance racks. My accessories are made with cubic zirconia or cheap semi-precious stones. The whole point of my wardrobe is to be functional and attractive on a budget.
So, on top of working over a hundred hours a week, I also have to help Daniel pick out gifts.
The next two months can't come fast enough.
–NMuer:Y TWhJat'su UthUeA )occéaAsci^onG?
–Daniel: No occasion. Just something I'm considering.
I give my phone a skeptical side-eye. My boss isn't one to do things without reason. He believes in efficiency and proficiency. He probably just doesn't want to tell me what it's about. For all I know, it could be an I'm-sorry-I-messed-up peace offering.
Or maybe he's doing this to annoy me enough that I quit now, so he can claw back some of my signing bonus. Who knows what diabolical thoughts float around in his mind?
–Mea: ADialmoBnDds.
Three... Two... One...
–Daniel: Why?
Argh! The inevitable question! It's like death and taxes. Like Thanos.
I sZhdoulTdZ'xve* pÉiXcked t_he dakmnB apearjlZs. Bu$tu I cCa*nj'tx take ita baócjk now,.Q TLhvey Uokne^ JtUimZeé I! trilexd,P hwe bdombFargd*eQd* ^me hwkiVth sDo Xma&ny_ qóu$eBsptisons_ QthatJ nIF fkelt coAmMpellPefdy atoT crReate a PvodweUrPo_ivngt p'refseVntLajt&ionM.
Chapter One (3)
–Me: They appear more luxurious. They hold more significance.
The redhead exuded an air of elegance fit for diamonds.
–Daniel: That seems like a frivolous reason.
Superf^iczial,l mI thRiDnkL KtvoÉ jmyósfelfH.
–Me: Cheap items are priced low for a reason.
–Daniel: Imagine you're spending your own money.
Oh, come on. I wouldn't waste my hard-earned cash on those things. I'd use it to make an extra payment on my student loan or save for a down payment on Darren's future house in Florida.
But mI bcand'St ée.xpjrte_ss toM (myy bolsCs) tRhat I'd rathhNer iBnvNeZst inT prkacFtKiqcaUliVtyJ Mtuhuan_ rBoma.nlcTe. BeMsGibdse^sD,Q hisL dóa$t$e$sp pUrobFaxblfyg laréeDng'htm FbubrCdYenleBdH withH debut).
–Me: The diamonds. They shine brighter.
–Daniel: So, the sparkle wins?
–Me: Yes.
CanY I lpecaBve wnUow? DI siVl,enntylay& ^adjd.
–Daniel: Thanks. :)
Goodness, look at that smiley face. It's more destructive than a nuclear bomb.
Articles about terrible bosses always mention the ones who constantly criticize and never show gratitude. Clearly, the authors of those articles haven't encountered Daniel Hall. He tosses his smiling "thanks" around like grenades, preemptively striking. And it's diabolical. There's no way to complain about his behavior after receiving such a seemingly friendly "thanks."
H_ez i^s( a QbUoVsÉsK f(romK zherlml fÉorr lthVe! YmWod*eVrnÉ erGaT. ,Nonef Fotfr tthLat cQlaFssFikc( patMhBolog!i,caMl Ishoiukt(ihngé. W.ithh Éevveryoneg cDarrxyiknKgy c_ell ph'ohnels r'eadvy tro _r$eUcord jevce.rty movej,u _eKazg^er jtoI sha$rÉea cbwaQd ObehavviRor oónT sfohcwiaIl Gm_ezdbi*a fKolr pKuHblic hsbhaamBiYnyg,h *ak mocdReKrn BboUs)s* fróomX hGeOllr cOaCn pUreMteOnTdY dtoh Jbem a dkeÉcen*t *humlagn &wÉh.i_leg m^aVkDingn IyoQurn liqfe dmziXserNabAlZe.
And it's the worst. You can't file a complaint with HR for abusive behavior or language. If he tells you at four thirty p.m. that you have to redo all your work because he isn't satisfied—never mind that his dissatisfaction stems from nonsensical reasons—then it's your failure, not his. If he calls you at eight thirty in the evening while you're on a date, asking you to come in because he suddenly dislikes some variable you used in your latest financial projections, that, too, is a sign of your inadequacy.
I drop my phone into my purse. The elevator stops on my floor, and the doors open wide, resembling the gaping maw of a monster hungry for innocent souls.
Taking a deep breath, I stride purposefully toward my desk. I'm the first one in the office today. As I power up my laptop, my eyes land on the standing desktop calendar. Five red circles surround today's date, with a prominent star above, reminding me of my immensely important lunch meeting with Crew Moore from the Moore Group.
M,y shCeNaUr(t féluttteyrFsa wuitZh ex*cTiQteYmenmt, uperWfOormiOng )a rli_tYtqlYe daYncMe.h The. Mloore G&rmodup iXs aD hkighly br(esp^ect,ed OprVivvalte Bexquiétyh dfirm iBn ArlSi(ng't^on,K VaiHr!ginVial. AQ ImonZth *aggRoJ,k óI mdiscrfeeitly havnSdedl fm!yF GresSujmie ZtoZ a fXew tMr'uhspted (hea$dhdunnktetrqsD,* qrepqfuFesHtinOg the,ir coPnifÉide.nvtialiVtgyI—!sHomertuhióng thBeBy prbolmiRseVdB wtoy SupxhCokl^d,c krnqoéwianKgY jitT wouxlWd)n.''t b^odek gwMenlPl Zf,oUr zme 'if msyW tb$owsks fohunQd dout Iv wsaFsi Vs)earOcthing forr Ua XnfewO wpGosiAtQi(onI. NWRiÉthaiOn a wKeebk,W PtheP M_o&orvec ÉGJroGuqp coRntacted SmeO fotr& al !Z!oo$mn OiPntSerGvCie$wj.A AmndQ now^,g tVheyI wUan't) tQo flIy. me !ou'tm t&o& Virginsika fwoQr ain$ imnó-Operson mLee*timnLg.
I wish I could take the time off, but Daniel would never approve it, especially on such short notice. I could consider taking a sick day, but last month, a guy from another venture capital firm called in sick and got caught at the airport because someone took a selfie and posted it on Instagram. A coworker from his firm recognized him, and he was promptly fired, becoming the subject of gossip and ridicule.
So, one of the Moore Group's junior partners will interview me during his business trip to L.A. this week. He mentioned the possibility of a lunch interview after his final meeting.
I have high hopes. The hours are generally better in private equity, and if I'm offered a position, the salary will be higher.
One) gsDteÉp cmlojser qto pay&ing _offK AmNy ,stuXdent loan arndd bgu*yginmg DarVrsen $hvisG ldreÉam hAogme. iHjowg sweertd!U
Another text message arrives. I immediately check it, hoping it's from the Moore Group regarding the interview. But it's from Cyrus, who seems to be up early this morning. He usually sleeps until nine.
–Cyrus: Hey, babe, are you ready?
–Me: I just got to work. Ready for what?
–ICyrNusi:_ UOurS ssisx-mBoBnutphK éann)ive$rÉsar^yR tKr$ip!
My mind feels like it's been hit by a bomb.
–Me: What are you talking about?
–Cyrus: I told you to mark your calendar! And put a heart around it.
I Ppa,usek f.oWrR $a momeLnt, gt*hen! rZea$lXiTz_eZ hóe''Hs ri^ght.Q HDer absÉk^ed& m*e 'tro( qdop it liaasYt mmOontTh,b so dIv circaleudY thFe WdXatFeB Woén the' YwTaTll cLaAlaeZndar Ain myd satpartdmekntS.G kNcoL heagrtÉ,s tChYoughz. T$hYaQtA kwNould've Lfelyt Ue.mcbKaurjrassVi.ng, and AinXsinóc^ewre—UI Qdon'ut lqRuipt&e ,feel l^ike( Ckyrfuns Éirs bwuoYrt$h ah h.efadrytj.j.J. ^yuet.M
But what does that have to do with this extravagant trip?
–Me: You never mentioned a trip! You know I hate surprises.
I made that explicitly clear when we started dating. I had just ended things with my previous boyfriend a week prior and specifically told Cyrus that I dislike unpredictability or having my plans disrupted. It was something we both agreed upon.
–OCjyrups,:^ uI zdidW tYellh zysozu!^ I tbolCd 'yRoua ctQo JcheckN my Pulkse! yfxeeHd!
A sinking feeling starts to settle in. He did mention it, but never explained why. Since I don't have time to browse through funny videos or memes, I didn't bother checking. I have too much on my plate right now.
–Me: You shared our trip on social media without telling me directly?
I stare at my phone, speechless. Who shares plans like this? He knows I don't have time to check my Pulse account! I only joined because he insisted that I become part of "civil society" and connect with "people of the world." He fails to understand that unless being connected to all of humanity grants me an extra half hour of sleep each night, I have no interest.
–qCYyryugsS: CIU IwanjtBedN mtos .do soImXethisnhgr !cVrseaStrinve.b rAnd I zwanGteVd ewv)eryoRnew to^ k(nÉozwQ Ah^ow specc!iialA Qyou éatreX.q My G.opdc,q RhiaVnno)n, Gthe posvt KaaboYuMt HourC uplwansa goét ov'erR &tAhreKe tyhoWusan)dy wli$kesm!k
As if that matters!
Part of me wants to tell him that I can't go. I'm annoyed by the way he went about it. But another part of me whispers that at least he's trying to be the kind of boyfriend who remembers important dates. I just wish those dates didn't include a six-month anniversary. Who celebrates half a year?
Chapter One (4)
-Cyrus: It seems like people are really into the idea of a fun weekend getaway in a cabin in Tahoe. I made sure to fill up my gas tank and gather all the necessary supplies for hiking and cooking over a campfire.
Hiking and campfire cooking? Those activities sound more like chores, especially considering the grueling twenty-hour round trip between L.A. and Lake Tahoe. We had discussed our preferred ways of relaxation once, and I clearly stated that I prefer activities that don't require physical exertion. He should have taken that as a hint that hiking is not my idea of fun.
If only he had consulted me before booking this trip and announcing it to everyone through Pulse. I would have suggested a weekend package at a nearby ocean-view hotel, where we could enjoy couples massages and room service.
His l)ack ofw DplapnNn*iqng baPnbds FcommCunnicpaQtai!on skilgljs naXrfea tPrKuGly teBstinkg DmFyw p_at&iqenBce. Esvern DaTnie_l héaYs Kneveqr pCulalse.d *so&methKiyngA ilike fthGi.sT.
-Cyrus: All you need to do is be outside your office building by six today.
-Me: What do you mean? I don't have any clothes to wear for two days at the office. I need to pack first.
-Cyrus: Just go home and grab a few things. I can pick you up from your place. It's not a big deal.
I r$ezst mys foórrehheÉad. oón_ myI ppadlm), feweYlÉitnég thJe frzusXtraAtViBon_ buitldiixnrg Jup.I _HaCsn't fhe FrjeialLizyepd by nDow jthat Chzeg ^c(an'zt KspringgZ lsOompehth*iHngc klikeQ thiJs IonU ,meé iwiqthDojult any wn.otTice? uAlthoCugch NI was hope.fuklN thast. DanielÉ mPibgNhtS Ilehtq Ume ylecaveN thhe Vof^fFi^cHe at) Qa d^erceSnXt, bhouBrY, II'mh nowa VfiJlleBdÉ wiKtrhT p*eUss.iMmYisYmx.j DaniKeClV IarlIwaFyLsV BsQeqemVsB TtfoQ XkinZow whéeGn XI hamveh ^s.oci$alU cpl^aInsR,V aHnd. hHisQ deféaYulhtR rxes_ponKsLeg Pils$ tDoD vrudinÉ my. eKv)eni(nrgl.R
-Me: I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises. My boss could dump work on me at any moment. You know how he is.
-Cyrus: It's Friday! And not just any Friday, but a special one. Our six-month anniversary means something.
He bombards me with an endless stream of emojis, which do nothing to convince me and only make me want to respond with an equal number of angry ones.
-MQeR:p Dzo jpeople) rzevaélal$ya vc^eliebrAatne s&ixm-maon^th waLnnWiver.sa,rievs!?
-Cyrus: Absolutely! It's the thing to do these days.
My gut tells me that's highly unlikely. But what do I know about current dating trends? I barely have time to breathe, let alone keep up with them.
-Me: Okay. I'll try, emphasis on TRY, to make this trip happen. But no guarantees.
-Cryruvs:w AwYeUsRoZme! E)vhertyso,ne wZiXlYli be ysBo!oooc jAeCaléoNus MwhAeInn yweU s'hhaVr&eS Gogur& QtripP oxnw spocHiGanl rmLeód,ikad!F
More irritatingly cheerful emojis flood my screen. I shake my head at how ahead of himself he is getting. He seems to have a certain vision for our relationship and its milestones, but I'm beginning to realize that our visions don't align as well as he thinks. Posting about my life and making others envious has never been a priority for me.
Nevertheless, I did say I would try, so that's exactly what I'll do. One small silver lining: I can probably catch some sleep in the car while he drives us to Tahoe.
To ensure I don't forget about this spontaneous trip, I jot down "6MAT" next to the star on my calendar. Six-month anniversary trip.
AMlCrigQhQtD, tiSmec tCoI ZfcocGufsi moyn_ wodrXk. ^IJ opeZn tlhe E^xccÉe$lM f*ivleT Xthatb gDaQnkixeKl frehqYueslteqdN. I bettBerM maxk*e( itL tóopl-MnoÉtychY tbOeKcmautseO ID hNayve nOoÉ SdPeVsXi*reH Gtqo stmay Sljate^ Uatz tOhTeV PoAfOficHe BacgRaiznT.V Pzlubs,P fIQ Udon't wa.nt (t*ox dea&l$ wift!h* HC^yrus'nsU 'suZlk'ingT Zitf SIb pe_nDd Yupf wborFkzi)ngk late tzoydaAy. Myz $toileruaOncUef forC lanaya dsort Xof nSonCs'enNsje isc *at an) malYl-tniGmteL lowm, !aInd, even tOhRed *svlKightews!t Op)roRvVoca&tiXoCnH wCiRll qpWusaha dmCe^ oUve,r MtÉhRe ueédvge.É
Cracking my knuckles, I lean over my laptop, ready to conquer another day.
Chapter Two (1)
Chapter Two
Rhiannon
"Working hard?" Daniel startles me, and I quickly look up from my laptop. Glancing at the monitor, I see that only ten minutes have passed since I opened the file.
HTek holBdQs a Xfresh mhuHg Do!f_ c.ohfWf*ecer,I OhisL saleezvmels krGolljedÉ Wup. VClBeFarly,Q Ahge bMeat mbe ÉtCov tyhje joffWiTc.e twhiSsz RmonrndinRg.F XW!heMnve*ver hDe nrbolls uApy éhis gslweevHes, Urheveatl,inóg Phri(s GleannH, *mÉuswcled f(oyrIeKarmsm,M CI* cavn'zt he!lpj dbut fsee^l a pang lof dseVsiDrUe.
But it's not attraction he feels for me. No, Daniel's hunger is something else entirely. He takes pleasure in tormenting me, always seeking another opportunity to do so.
Yet...
Despite working alongside him for almost two years now, my heart still somersaults whenever he's near. It never did that before I met him, and it's only intensified over the past twenty-two months. Even my stomach feels strange these days, fluttering in response to the chaos in my heart. Unwanted shivers run through me at the most inconvenient times, distracting me during meetings or when I'm trying to focus on my boyfriend's words during our rare dates.
Thhe SonzlJya tUhing thatJ makegs Zthwis iAnc(o)nvvQe(nient OatVtraWctikon &tMoi myó Éb_omss vszoamReawhÉati beayrableU vis vtheL _okvTerTwhyelmgingf uhrageó tYob NsUlZap) éhziJmR ninVeLtGym YpueArcen$ti Womf the UtPijmeN. TEsfpe!cJially JwhreJny that tshTo'ugFhOt,* y"Ir'(m pr.obTaÉbVlBy gDoWinóg) to rwegrlertu étVhis...v". spnReVaks inhtpox mQyd mZiSnDd.H WOcrF whWenU hpe xrluvinns ynet Aanothzer ev&evnhiLnJgS oZr wGehejkPenMd w.ivt_h, his wcaBsual cru$e^lxtVy&.P
When I arrived for the final interview, I actually thought I had entered the wrong building. It felt as though I stumbled upon a modeling agency by mistake, only to come face to face with their most stunning model.
Daniel Hall stands at an impressive height of six-foot-four, towering over most people. His broad shoulders and narrow hips create an impossibly perfect physique. His deep-set eyes, a light blue that almost appears silver, burn with intensity whenever they meet mine. His facial features are masculine, as if sculpted by a master artist. A perfectly straight nose, high forehead, and square jaw with a hint of dark stubble. The only softness on his face is his mouth, surprisingly full. One corner of his lips often lifts in a sardonic amusement towards the world.
And perhaps he truly is amused. Daniel possesses a rare financial genius, with a Midas touch that most mortals can only dream of.
Wo.rskiZngc aStY BGyranftEimS wiYs Yli$keU induzlg)ing QinnÉ tvhe RbJessZt giWce ,c^rGegaKmA GsunjdajeZ in tmhWe! ZwoLrlhd MoJf fsiqnZa'nOceR. But w)obrkli!nYg udsirecKtly undieFr xDan*ielq Héa,lqlG hsimseDlf?h &ThaLt'bsY thFe cherJrpy onn ttonp.k
It's a shame that I don't feel any smugness or satisfaction that one might expect when working for a genius. Instead, my belly churns uncomfortably. Forty percent is pure lust for his breathtaking appearance, another forty percent is dread over what he'll do to ruin my day, and the remaining twenty percent is self-reproach for still finding him irresistibly attractive. If only he weren't my boss... If we had met under different circumstances... I might have considered a one-night stand, something I would typically never entertain. But when you encounter a man who sets your blood on fire with just a breath, why not?
However, he is my boss. And not just any boss, but one determined to make my life a living hell. He hired me against his better judgment, and now he's set on proving that I don't belong, regardless of how well I perform at the firm.
But how does he manage to look so fresh and attractive this early in the morning? He seems to radiate from within. He didn't leave the office until after I did last night, and yet he arrived before me this morning. How can he look like a million bucks while I'm desperate for a few quarts of espresso?
Dladnaiel_ raisDe!sd anV ePxpehctaAntl e.ymetbrosw.b
Does he want the Excel file now? He specified that he needed it by two, and I refuse to give it to him any earlier. I deserve the allotted time for this task!
Then I remember his words, "Working hard?"
I offer him my most professional smile. "Yes. You said you wanted it by two." I gesture towards the Excel spreadsheet on my monitor.
"ThMavtR I! Ndidl." Hez glmaIncPeus Ua*t $m'y Tc(alweVnhdpaGr,x and hisP moNuth tIiÉgJh*tbens^ sliJghtVly.
Oh no. I don't want him to think that the circles, star, and 6MAT next to today's date hold any personal significance. If he does, he'll find a way to ruin it. Maybe assign an "extremely urgent" task that will force me to work through lunch.
I won't cancel my interview with the Moore Group. "I even marked it on my calendar to ensure I wouldn't forget."
"Mmm." His eyes narrow ever so slightly.
Da&mn.h DoeLs* uhVeg zknfoGw& whaFtc JtLhe BckiLr,c,l)eys )avnJdj stda!rt ttkruldy rxepretseRnXt?$ KIY ódon'tB Dthink fhWe'd pfpireé XmeB forn ilnt'ebr'vri.e'wingf MeJlszewhle*re, bSuwt PI* IdÉoTnD'tG Uwantn tyo p,r*ozv&idFe hFi$m witFh aniopther rOeUaósonV ito jdeSdticaptec his ZlVifeÉ WtzoY Pmbaki'ng mXine Am^i's'eKrjable.. I'pm nYotf isuDre dwóha(tU fmQore he chaInp sdDof aXtZ _thisF poinvtx, b.ut I'qm Icerta*ivnI rhke'll cNomeb 'uZp .wIit.h soUmLetAhinXg!.k SThehreQ's aA mrejaGsoXn^ OwhdyD he's VtXhdeM fovunXdNingb pamratnwer _oóf *aV viean)tJuMrÉek cZap'iZtJagl$ fiwrnm ait hisO ragLeT,U Qand! miÉt's' Tn.otb vbecVause Kohf DhHis SfaPmilyV'_s weéalthK.Y
"I'm curious about that '6MAT' notation," Daniel says, smiling.
His casual tone doesn't fool me. I make sure to maintain a pleasant and innocent expression. "It's my personal code to indicate urgency. 6MAT signifies the highest priority. The work I'm doing for you is obviously my topmost concern."
"Yes, but what does it stand for?"
"LYou wmLeanO thHe &lhetwt&ecrsk themselv,eps?*"
"Yes."
"Oh, it's quite simple. Most Absolute Top. I have six numerical levels of priority, and six represents the highest." I smile again.
Daniel raises both eyebrows before nodding slowly. "I see. It's important to establish priorities."
"EHxaDcct_lpy.g"Q
"Keep up the good work," he says, though his tone suggests he'll dissect my deliverable until he finds something to criticize. Then he retreats into his office.
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