THE JOB INTERVIEW

Joyce Walter straightened her suit jacket as she stepped off the elevator onto the top floor of Caesar Fashion Company's headquarters. She had just graduated from college with a degree in business administration, and she was eager to start her career as an accounting manager. Ceaser Fashion Company was one of the most successful companies in the city, and she had been ecstatic when she received an invitation to interview for a position with them.

As she walked down the hallway towards the reception area, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness. She had prepared for the interview thoroughly, but the thought of meeting with the CEO, James Caesar, made her feel a little intimidated.

When she reached the reception area, she was greeted by a young woman with long blonde hair and a warm smile. "Welcome to Caesar Fashion Company," the woman said. "I'm Sarah, Mr. Ceaser's assistant. You must be Joyce Walter."

Joyce nodded. "Yes, that's me. Thank you for having me."

Sarah led Joyce to a conference room, where she waited anxiously for James Caesar to arrive. As she waited, she couldn't help but look around the room, admiring the sleek and modern decor. Everything was so polished and professional - it was obvious that this was a company that took its image seriously.

Finally, the door opened and James Caesar walked in. Joyce's breath caught in her throat as she took in his appearance. He was tall and muscular, with piercing grey eyes and short black hair that was perfectly styled. He wore a crisp white shirt and a black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and tapered down to his slim waist.

"Ms. Walter," he said in a deep, commanding voice. "Thank you for coming. I'm James Caesar, of this establishment."

Joyce stood up and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Caesar."

He took her hand and shook it firmly, his grip strong and confident. "Please, have a seat."

As Joyce sat down, she couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by James Ceaser's presence. He was the epitome of power and success, and she felt like a small fish in a big pond.

"So, Ms. Walter," he said, taking a seat across from her. "I understand that you're interested in the accounting manager position. You have an impressive resume, but on analyzing you physically, I see potential in you for something else."

Joyce's heart skipped a beat. Was he going to reject her for the job she had applied for?

"I'm listening," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I think you have the looks and the charisma to be one of our models" James said, his eyes appraising her. "In fact, I've been looking for a fresh face to represent our brand for a while now. I think you could be that face."

Joyce was taken aback. She had never considered herself to be model material. She felt a flutter in her stomach as she imagined working closely with him on a regular basis. He's a fine looking man, and his stares were just enchanting.

"I'm flattered, Mr. Ceaser," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "But I applied for the accounting manager position because that's what I'm interested in, and I'd really like to pursue a career with my degree. Plus I'm not sure I have what it takes to be a model."

James leaned forward, his eyes intense. "I beg to differ, Ms. Walter. I see something special in you, something that could take our brand to the next level. But if you insist on the desk job I'm willing to offer you the modeling contract in addition to the accounting manager position."

Joyce was taken aback again. The thought of being in the public eye made her nervous. But the offer was tempting, and she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards James.

"I... I don't know what to say," she stammered. "I appreciate the offer, but I really want to focus on my career as an accountant."

James leaned back in his chair, studying her carefully. "I understand your hesitation, Ms. Walter. But I urge you to reconsider. This could be a great opportunity for you, and I pay handsomely."

Joyce bit her lip, weighing her options. She had always been ambitious and driven, and the thought of working for a company as prestigious as Caesar Fashion Company was a dream come true. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about James's offer.

"I... I need... some time to think about it," she said finally. "Can I think it over?"

James nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Of course, Ms. Walter. Take all the time you need. I can be patient."

As Joyce left the conference room, she couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. The interview had taken an unexpected turn, and she wasn't sure what to make of James's offer. She tried to shake off the feeling of unease as she made her way out of the building and heading back to her apartment.

As she walked down the street, lost in thought, she was startled by the sound of her phone ringing. She fished it out of her pocket and saw that it was her boyfriend, Nathan.

"Hey, babe," she said, answering the call.

"Hey, love," Nathan said. "How did the interview go?"

"Wait, how did you know I was out?"

"Uh... a hunch, maybe?"

Joyce sighed, trying to find the right words to explain what had happened. "It was... interesting. James Ceaser offered me a modeling contract in addition to the accounting manager position."

Nathan's voice grew tense. "What? That's ridiculous. You're not a model"

Joyce could sense his frustration "I know, Nathan. But he made it sound so appealing. And the money he offered was... well, it wasn't precise but nothing he can't handling, afterall, he's the owner of the establishment"

Nathan let out a sigh. "I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Joyce. You're too important to me. And besides, you have a job offer already. You don't need to do anything else."

Joyce smiled, grateful for Nathan's support. "Thanks, Nathan. You're right. I'll think about it some more and let James know my decision soon enough"

Nathan's eye's followed Joyce walking from across the street, in a cafeteria adjacent to Caesar's Fashion.

As she hung up the phone, she couldn't help but feel torn. James's offer was tempting, but it also seemed too good to be true. And there was something about him that made her feel uneasy, as though he was hiding something.

But she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards him. She tried to push the thoughts from her mind as she settled into her apartment, but they lingered there, like a nagging feeling that wouldn't go away.

As the night wore on, she found herself unable to sleep, tossing and turning in her bed. And as she lay there, a strange sensation washed over her, as though she was being watched by someone

Joyce's eyes flew open, and she sat up in bed, scanning the dark room for any sign of movement. But everything was quiet, and the feeling of being watched slowly faded away.

She shook her head, chiding herself for being paranoid. It was probably just her nerves getting the best of her. But the unease lingered, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She turned on lights and cuddled her blanket and slept off.

Joyce had always been a hard-working and ambitious person. She had graduated at the top of her class in accounting management and was determined to pursue her career in the business world. She had a small but tight-knit group of friends, three, who had been with her since college, and she cherished their support and encouragement.

Her relationship with Nathan was also a source of comfort and stability in her life. They had been together for over two years, and although they had their ups and downs, Joyce was happy with the life they had built together. Nathan was kind, considerate, and supportive, and he always knew just how to make her laugh.

But despite her love for Nathan, Joyce couldn't help but feel restless and unfulfilled. She longed for something more than the routine of her day-to-day life, something that would challenge her and push her out of her comfort zone, something unnatural.

James was even more striking in person than she had anticipated, with chiseled features and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see right through her. She felt a jolt of attraction that caught her off guard, and although she tried to focus on the interview questions, her mind kept drifting back to the enigmatic CEO.

The next day, Joyce woke up late, past 10am, after a long night and uncanny dream about James. She called her Stacy for a little hangout. After about an hour of cold bath, got dressed in a sundress and hat, grabbed her bag and headed out the door. As Joyce walked into the coffee shop, she spotted her friend Stacy sitting in a corner booth, sipping a latte and scrolling through her phone. Stacy looked up and waved, motioning for Joyce to come over.

"Hey girl, what's up?" Stacy said as Joyce slid into the booth across from her.

Joyce let out a sigh, "I don't even know where to begin. I just had the weirdest interview with this guy, James Ceaser, yesterday, and he wants me to model for him."

Stacy's eyes widened. "Wait, what? The James Caesar? You're going to be his model?" she exclaimed in ecstasy and a whisper-like tone

Joyce rolled her eyes. "No, of course not. I told him I was interested in accounting management, but he just kept pushing the modeling thing. It was...uncomfortable."

"What do you mean? Girl, if I could I would bang your head on this table to get it right. You went for one job and you got two"

Joyce hesitated, but she trusted her friend, and she needed someone to talk to.

Joyce shook her head, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "I don't know, it's hard to explain. He just had this look in his eyes, like he wanted something from me, asides the offer he presented"

"Baby girl, the only thing we can't do on this journey of fulfilment is to exchange our dignity for gains. And this great gain just came on a platter"

Joyce shook her head. "Yeah , I need the money, and I don't want to give up that easily. But I don't know what to do. I'm not sure being close to him would be a great gain"

"Girl, please recommend me to him when you turn him down. I mean, I'm fine too" Stacy laughed hysterically

"Girl please" she chuckle "He was just really intense, you know? Like he was trying to get inside my head or something. And there was something about him that made me feel...unsafe. Like the pull I felt towards him felt dangerous"

"That sounds like a red flag to me. And I love me some red flags" she laughed again

"Girl be serious" Joyce hissed and laughed "And that reminds me, I have a very strange dream last night, and he was in it"

"Ooh... so this is love" she sang jesting

"Stop, it's not" she chuckled back

"Tell me, you're actually crushing on him. I mean all normal girls are, but aren't you?"

"It's nothing of the sort. This is sort of a bad dream"

"Okay, what about it?"

"So, in the dream, he looked really scary, like horror movie scary, I was running away from him but he kept appearing before and at every turn I make and every corner"

"Aah, that's sigmatic, I want" she jested again and laughed

"Come on" Joyce cracked up with laughter

"Why are you running? Grab him instead"

"Stacy!" she laughed again "Have you forgotten Nathan?"

"Nathan who?"

"Stacy!" she hissed and chuckled

"Okay, but for real, how about you stop running around figure out what it is that troubles you about him. I know you love a mystery, and this seems to be one intriguing one, you can explore it. Dip your toe in the water, if you don't like it then you walk away" Stacy put her hand on Joyce's arm, a look of concern on her face. "Just be careful, okay? And don't be pressured into anything you're not comfortable with. And if you ever feel unsafe, call me. I'll rain down hell on him"

"Yes ma'am" Joyce nodded, "Thank you for reminding you still have some sense" She comment sarcastically, and they both laughed

"So, tell me, how was he? Please tell me he's more perfect in person, those eyes and lips?

Joyce's phone rang, and she saw an unknown number flashing on the screen. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should answer it, but ultimately decided to pick up.

"Hello?" she said tentatively.

Joyce couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach as she heard James' deep voice over the phone. "Hello, Joyce. This is James, of Caesar Fashion," he said smoothly. "hope your day is going beautifully"

"Yes, Mr. Caesar. Thank you," Joyce replied, trying to keep her voice normal. Stacy eye's widened on hearing 'Mr. Caesar'

"I'm glad to hear it," James said. "don't be so surprised, your phone contact was on your resume. I was wondering if you could come back to my office tomorrow. I'd like to discuss the modeling contract with you in more details, and maybe do a test photoshoot to see how you look on camera."

"I'm flattered, Mr. Caesar, but I haven't gotten back to you yet with my decision" she reminded him.

"Oh, my mistake, must've been some other candidate" James replied, his voice taking on a seductive tone.

Joyce bit her lip nervously. She wasn't sure if she was ready for the world of modeling, but the pull was so magnetic and tempting to pass up. "I'll...I'll think about it," she stammered.

"Five o'clock in the evening tomorrow, I'll be waiting for you. Have an even more beautiful remainder of your day" James hung up before Joyce could voice out anything, leaving her mouth partially open in the attempt to speak

Stacy was practically bouncing with excitement as Joyce told her about the phone call. "Oh my God, Joyce! Do you know how many girls would kill for that opportunity? You have to take it! Girl, you are stunning. You have the body of a goddess and the face of an angel. Trust me, you were made for this," she said confidently." she exclaimed.

"I think he's a pushover" Joyce twitches her lips

"Oh dear God" Stacy looked upwards and relaxed back into her seat, in partial disappointment.

Joyce stood outside Caesar’s Fashion headquarters, her heart pounding against her ribs. The sleek glass building towered over her, glinting in the warm evening sun. She took a deep breath, smoothing her sundress as she adjusted the strap of her purse. She hadn’t meant to arrive early—fifteen minutes, to be precise—but the nervous energy buzzing through her had made staying at home unbearable.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered to herself, pushing open the revolving glass doors.

Inside, the air was cool and filled with the faint hum of activity. The receptionist greeted her with a polite smile, directing her to the studio on the 11th floor. As the elevator ascended, Joyce’s stomach churned with anticipation. The memory of James’ deep, commanding voice on the phone lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the unsettling pull he seemed to have over her.

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped into a sprawling, modern studio. Bright lights illuminated the space, and several staff members bustled around with equipment. At the center of it all stood James Caesar.

He was dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored navy-blue suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. His hair was slicked back, and the sharpness of his jawline seemed almost sculptural under the studio lights. As if sensing her presence, James turned, his piercing grey eyes locking onto hers. A slow, magnetic smile spread across his face, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Joyce," he greeted, his voice smooth as silk. "Right on time. I appreciate punctuality."

Joyce nodded, swallowing hard. "I figured it would be best not to keep you waiting, Mr. Caesar."

"James," he corrected, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, commanding the entire room without even trying. "We’re going to be working closely, so let’s dispense with the formalities."

"Alright... James," she said, the name feeling foreign on her tongue.

He held her gaze for a moment longer before motioning toward a wardrobe rack filled with stunning outfits. "Shall we get started? I’ve selected a few pieces for you. I think they’ll complement you beautifully."

Joyce’s breath hitched as she scanned the collection of designer dresses, each more exquisite than the last. The fabrics shimmered under the lights—silks, satins, and lace in a palette of soft pastels and bold jewel tones.

A stylist approached, ushering her toward the changing area. "You’ll look amazing in these," the woman said with a warm smile. "Let’s get you into the first look."

The first outfit—a fitted emerald-green gown with a plunging neckline and an open back—made Joyce feel like someone else entirely. As she stepped onto the set, James watched her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

"Stunning," he said, his voice low. "You have a natural elegance. The camera will love you."

Under the direction of the photographer, Joyce began to pose, feeling awkward at first. But as the shoot progressed, she started to loosen up. James stood nearby, offering quiet words of encouragement that somehow made her feel more confident. She felt so silly that she even laughed at herself at some point.

"Relax your shoulders," he said at one point, his voice soft yet commanding. "You’re doing wonderfully"

She glanced at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile. His approval felt strangely... intoxicating.

By the time they moved to the third outfit—a shimmering silver cocktail dress—Joyce found herself genuinely enjoying the experience. The staff buzzed around her, adjusting the lighting and her hair, while James observed her with an unreadable expression. There was something in his eyes—something that felt both dangerous and exhilarating.

As the shoot wrapped up, the photographer clapped his hands together. "That’s a wrap! Great job, Joyce. You were incredible."

Joyce blushed under the praise, murmuring her thanks. She turned to James, who approached her with an approving nod.

"You exceeded my expectations," he said. "I knew you’d be perfect for this."

"Thank you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

James’ gaze lingered on her for a moment before he extended his hand. "Shall we? I’ve made dinner reservations.

"Dinner?" She was surprised

"Yes, dinner"

" Oh..." She was short of words

"I just wanted to have dinner while you go through and sign the contract"

" Oh..." all she could say

James took her to an upscale restaurant on the top floor of a luxury hotel. The ambiance was intimate, with soft lighting and panoramic views of the city skyline. Joyce felt out of place in her sundress, surrounded by patrons in evening wear, but James didn’t seem to notice—or care.

They were seated at a corner table, away from the main crowd. A waiter appeared almost immediately, pouring them both glasses of red wine.

"I hope you don’t mind," James said, lifting his glass. "I thought this might be a good opportunity for us to discuss the details of the contract... and get to know each other better."

Joyce hesitated, then raised her own glass. "Sure. That sounds... reasonable."

As they sipped their wine, James began outlining the terms of the modeling contract. He spoke with precision and confidence, his deep voice weaving around the technicalities with ease. Joyce tried to focus, but she couldn’t ignore the way his gaze seemed to pierce through her, as if he could see straight into her soul.

When the waiter returned with their meals—seared salmon for her, steak for him—James leaned back in his chair, his expression softening.

"So, Joyce," he said, his tone shifting to something more conversational. "Tell me about yourself. What led you to Caesar Fashion?"

Joyce blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Oh, um... it’s not a very interesting story. I studied business administration, and I’ve been trying to find my footing ever since. This job seemed like a good opportunity."

James tilted his head, studying her. "And the modeling? Do you see yourself pursuing it, or are you just indulging my whims?"

She laughed nervously, cutting into her salmon. "I’m not sure. It’s... definitely outside my comfort zone. But I guess life begins at the end of your comfort zone, right?"

James leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine as he studied Joyce. The soft glow of the lighting danced across his features, making him look even more striking. Joyce shifted in her seat, acutely aware of his gaze.

“You have a fascinating presence, Joyce,” James said, his voice smooth yet deliberate. “You’re not like most people I’ve worked with. There’s a quiet strength about you, a conviction that intrigues me.”

Joyce raised an eyebrow, setting her fork down. “Quiet strength? You make it sound like I’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve.”

James smirked, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Perhaps you are. And I do enjoy a good puzzle.”

Joyce let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Well, I wouldn’t call myself a puzzle. I’m just someone who knows what she wants.”

“And what is it that you want, Joyce?” he asked, leaning forward slightly. The intensity in his gaze made her heart race.

She hesitated for a moment, her fingers lightly tracing the stem of her wineglass. “I want to build a career I’m proud of,” she said finally. “I applied to Caesar Fashion because I saw an opportunity to grow as a professional. Modeling... wasn’t part of the plan.”

James tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Plans can change. Often, the best opportunities are the ones we don’t expect.”

“Maybe,” Joyce admitted, meeting his gaze. “But I’m not the type to abandon my original goals just because something unexpected comes along. If I were to model for Caesar Fashion, I’d still want to be part of the business side of things. I can do both.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Both? You’d want to balance accounting management and modeling?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I studied business administration for a reason. Numbers are my thing. They make sense to me in a way few other things do. I’m passionate about that side of things, and I know I could make a meaningful contribution to your company. But I also understand that the modeling opportunity could open new doors for me.”

James leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. “That’s ambitious.”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Joyce challenged, leaning forward. “Ambition isn’t a bad thing. I’m capable of handling both roles. I just need the chance to prove it.”

He regarded her in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re full of surprises, Joyce.”

“Is that a yes?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes sharp.

James chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I can see why you’re so determined to pursue both. You have the drive. But you should know that excelling in either role will require your full focus. Balancing both will be... challenging.”

“I thrive on challenges,” she replied without hesitation. “Besides, the two roles don’t have to be at odds with each other. I could bring a unique perspective to the business side by understanding the modeling world from the inside.”

James nodded slowly, as though considering her words. “You make a compelling case. But tell me, Joyce—are you prepared for the attention that comes with being a model? It’s not just about wearing beautiful clothes and taking pictures. It’s about being in the spotlight, handling scrutiny, and navigating a world where people will judge you for how you look rather than what you bring to the table.”

Joyce hesitated, his words hitting a nerve. She had always prided herself on her intellect and professionalism, and the idea of being reduced to her appearance made her uneasy. But she refused to let that stop her.

“I won’t let anyone define me by my looks alone,” she said firmly. “If I do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’ll show people that I’m more than just a pretty face in front of a camera. And as for the attention... I can handle it.”

James studied her for a long moment, a hint of admiration flickering in his eyes. “You’re remarkable, Joyce,” he said softly. “You’re determined, intelligent, and unafraid to stand your ground. I respect that.”

She smiled, a small blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thank you. But I hope this means you’ll take my request seriously.”

He chuckled, lifting his glass. “Consider it taken seriously. I’ll have my team draft an amendment to the contract, outlining both roles. But Joyce...” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Know that I’ll be watching closely. I expect excellence from my employees—whether they’re managing finances or gracing the pages of a magazine.”

Joyce held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. “And I’ll deliver,” she said confidently. “You won’t regret it.”

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics as they finished their meal, but the tension between them remained palpable. James seemed to enjoy challenging her, pushing her to defend her choices and beliefs. And Joyce found herself rising to the occasion, meeting his intensity with her own.

As they left the restaurant, James once again placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the elevator. “You’ve given me a lot to think about tonight, Joyce,” he said as they stepped inside.

“Good,” she replied with a smile. “I’d hate to think I was wasting your time.”

He chuckled, pressing the button for the lobby. “Trust me, Joyce. You’re anything but a waste of time.”

The night air was cool and still as Joyce stepped out of the cab, her heels clicking softly on the pavement. She glanced up at the darkened windows of the city around her, the faint glow of streetlights barely illuminating the narrow street. The evening had been a whirlwind—photoshoots, dinner with James, and now, the short walk home. She clutched her bag tightly, her thoughts still spinning from the tension and chemistry she felt during dinner.

The shortcut through the alley seemed less inviting now, but it was late, and she was tired. She turned down the familiar path, her heels echoing ominously in the quiet.

Suddenly, the screech of tires pierced the silence. A black van swerved to a halt in front of her, and before she could react, the doors flew open. A pair of strong hands grabbed her, yanking her off her feet.

"Let me go!" Joyce screamed, kicking and flailing, but the hands were relentless. A black bag was shoved over her head, plunging her into darkness. Her heart pounded wildly as she was dragged into the van and thrown onto the floor.

"Please! Don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything—just don’t hurt me!" she begged, her voice trembling as the van doors slammed shut behind her. The engine roared to life, and they sped off.

“Shut up!” one of her captors growled, his voice rough and unrecognizable. Joyce froze, tears streaming down her face as panic consumed her.

She tried to think, to piece together what was happening. Was this about James? Did someone see her with him tonight? Or was this something else entirely? She had no idea, and the uncertainty made it worse.

“You don’t have to do this!” she pleaded. “Please, just let me go! I won’t tell anyone—”

Her captors said nothing, their silence more terrifying than words. She felt the van take a sharp turn, the momentum tossing her against the side. She winced, clutching her bag as if it could somehow protect her.

Finally, the van screeched to a halt. Joyce felt herself being yanked up and dragged out, her feet stumbling as they pulled her forward. She could hear the sound of a door creaking open, then the soft click of heels on a tiled floor. Where were they taking her?

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t hurt me…”

She was shoved down into a chair, and the bag was ripped off her head. The sudden brightness made her squint, her vision adjusting to the light. When her eyes finally focused, she froze.

She was in her own living room.

And standing before her, doubled over with laughter, were her brothers—Reggie, Ambrose, and David.

Reggie was the first to pull off his mask, revealing a wide grin. “Surprise!” he said, throwing his hands in the air like he’d just won a prize.

Ambrose pulled off his own mask next, laughing so hard he could barely stand upright. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face, Joyce! Priceless!”

David, the youngest, yanked off his mask and joined in. “You were begging for your life! I’ve never heard you sound so scared! That was amazing!”

Joyce stared at them, her mouth hanging open in shock. For a moment, she couldn’t process what was happening. Then, the realization hit her like a freight train.

“ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!” she screamed, leaping to her feet. Her face was flushed with anger and humiliation. “You—this—what the hell is wrong with you three?!”

Reggie held up his hands, still grinning. “Relax, sis. It was just a joke.”

“A joke?! You call THIS a joke?!” Joyce was fuming, her chest heaving as she pointed at the black bag on the floor. “I thought I was going to die! I begged for my life, you psychos!”

“Exactly,” Ambrose said, smirking. “And that’s what made it so good. You should’ve seen yourself in the van—‘Please don’t hurt me!’” He mimicked her trembling voice, doubling over with laughter again.

David clapped his hands, clearly proud of their prank. “Come on, Joyce, admit it. It was genius. We even got you home safe and sound.”

“Safe and sound?!” Joyce snapped. “You dragged me into a van, blindfolded me, and made me think I was being kidnapped! How is that SAFE?!”

Reggie stepped forward, trying to look serious, though the grin never left his face. “Look, we didn’t mean to scare you that bad. We just wanted to remind you where you come from. You’ve been so busy with this whole modeling thing, we figured you needed a little dose of reality.”

“Oh, please,” Joyce hissed, crossing her arms. “This has nothing to do with reality and everything to do with you three being immature jerks.”

“Okay, okay,” Reggie said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “We’re sorry, all right? We didn’t mean to freak you out that much. But, seriously, Joyce—you’ve been acting different lately. Modeling? Dinner with James Caesar?”

Joyce groaned, rubbing her temples. “Unbelievable. You're surveiling me? And you’re mad at me for having a life outside of you three?”

Ambrose shrugged. “We just miss you, that’s all.”

David chimed in, his tone more sincere this time. “Yeah. You’re our sister, Joyce. We’re just messing with you because we love you.”

Joyce sighed, her anger beginning to wane. As infuriating as her brothers could be, she knew their hearts were in the right place—most of the time. She picked up her bag from the floor, shaking her head. “You three are unbelievable. If you ever pull something like this again, I swear, I’m calling the cops.”

Reggie’s face grew a little more serious. “Actually, there’s something else. Dad’s summoning you home. He wants to see you.”

Joyce frowned, her irritation returning. “Dad? Why didn’t he just call me? I have a phone, you know.”

“You weren't picking up. And besides, this wasn’t the kind of message you deliver over the phone,” Ambrose said. His tone was more solemn now, and Joyce could feel a weight behind his words. “It’s urgent. Eight of our hunters were killed two nights ago.”

Joyce shook her head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I told you all before, I want nothing to do with this whole ‘hunting wolves’ nonsense. It’s absurd. You all should get a life”

Ambrose gave her a sharp look. “You might think it’s nonsense, but it’s real. And it’s dangerous. Dad wouldn’t summon you unless it was serious.”

Reggie leaned back against the couch, watching her carefully. “Look, Joyce, we’re not saying you have to jump back into the family 'business'. But you owe it to Dad to hear him out. He wouldn’t ask for you if he didn’t need you.”

Joyce groaned, rubbing her temples. “Fine. I’ll go. Not like there's anything I contribute anyway. But if this turns out to be another one of Dad’s preaching about fallen angels and... and whatever, I’m out.”

Reggie smirked. “Deal. Now, how about some pizza? We ordered your favorite.”

Joyce rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“Always do,” Ambrose said with a grin, leading the way to the kitchen

Reggie smirked, his playful side returning. “Mmm. Now, where’s the beer? I could use one after all this hard work.”

“I don’t have any beer,” Joyce lied, crossing her arms.

Reggie raised an eyebrow, walking over to the fridge. “Oh, really? Then what’s this?” He pulled out a couple of bottles and tossed one to Ambrose.

Joyce rolled her eyes. “Help yourselves, why don’t you?”

Ambrose twisted the cap off his beer and took a swig. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Reggie chuckled, turning to David. “Sorry, kid. You’re still underage.”

David puffed out his chest indignantly. “I’m 18!”

“Exactly,” Reggie teased, clinking his bottle against Ambrose’s as they both laughed.

Joyce couldn’t help but crack a small smile. For all their antics and ridiculousness, they were still her brothers. As much as they drove her crazy, they were family—and that was something she couldn’t walk away from, no matter how much she wanted to.

The penthouse was quiet, save for the faint crackling of the fireplace and the occasional clink of ice in James’s glass as he swirled the amber liquid. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, its glittering lights reflecting off the sleek black-and-gold decor of the room. James sat in a leather armchair, the weight of the day’s events settling over him like a storm cloud.

He took a slow sip of his bourbon, savoring the warmth as it slid down his throat. Yet, even the drink couldn’t shake the persistent image of Joyce from his mind—her laughter, her sharp wit, the fire in her eyes when she stood her ground at dinner. It wasn’t just attraction; it was something deeper, something primal. A pull that made his chest tighten and his thoughts spiral.

The elevator chimed softly, pulling him from his reverie. James glanced over as Nigel stepped into the penthouse, his usual confident stride accompanied by an air of caution. He was dressed sharply, as always, in a tailored gray suit, but his piercing blue eyes held an edge tonight.

“Nigel,” James greeted, raising his glass in acknowledgment. “What brings you here at this hour?”

Nigel shrugged, tossing his coat onto the couch. “Thought I’d check in on you. Word travels fast, you know. I heard you had dinner with someone... new.”

James arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “You’ve been snooping again.”

“Not snooping,” Nigel corrected, pouring himself a drink from the bar. “Just keeping an ear to the ground. So, who is she? This... Joyce.”

James’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, swirling the liquid in his glass. “She’s... different.”

Nigel perched on the edge of the couch, his expression curious. “Different how?”

“I can’t explain it,” James admitted, his voice low. “There’s something about her. From the moment I met her, I felt... drawn to her. Like a magnet. It’s not just physical, though God knows she’s stunning. It’s something else. Like she’s meant to be in my orbit.”

Nigel’s brow furrowed, his playful demeanor fading. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes narrowing as he processed James’s words. “I saw her earlier today, leaving the restaurant with you.”

James’s gaze snapped to his friend. “And?”

“And...” Nigel hesitated, his fingers tightening around his glass. “I don’t like what I felt.”

James frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There’s something off about her,” Nigel said carefully. “When I saw her, it was like... like my instincts were screaming at me to stay away. She feels dangerous, James.”

James let out a low laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Dangerous? She’s human, Nigel. A smart, determined woman trying to make her way in the world. Hardly the stuff of nightmares.”

“Don’t dismiss this,” Nigel warned, his tone sharper now. “You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? That pull you’re talking about—it’s not normal. Not for us.”

James clenched his jaw, his mind racing. He couldn’t deny the strange energy he felt around Joyce, the way her presence seemed to awaken something dormant inside him. But danger? That wasn’t what he felt.

“She’s not a threat,” he said firmly. “And I won’t treat her like one.”

Nigel sighed, setting his glass down on the table. “Just... be careful, James. The pack can’t afford any distractions right now, especially with Asa stirring up trouble.”

James’s expression darkened at the mention of Asa. “What has he done now?”

Nigel leaned back, his jaw tightening. “Led a hunt two nights ago. Took half a dozen of the younger wolves with him and left a trail of destruction in his wake. A farmer’s livestock was slaughtered, and there’s talk of missing hikers in the area, also, some of those religious hunters. He’s reckless, James. Maniacal. He’s trying to assert dominance, and it’s only a matter of time before he challenges you outright.”

James’s grip on his glass tightened, the veins in his hand standing out as he fought to keep his temper in check. “I warned him,” he said coldly. “The pack has rules. If he breaks them again, I’ll deal with him myself.”

“You may not have the luxury of waiting for him to break the rules,” Nigel said grimly. “He’s gathering allies. Wolves who are tired of playing by the rules. If he gains enough support, it won’t matter what the rules are.”

James’s green eyes burned with fury, the predator in him rising to the surface. “Let him try.”

Nigel studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You can’t afford to be distracted,” he said quietly. “Not by Asa, and not by this... pull you feel toward Joyce. Whatever she is, whatever she means to you, don’t let it cloud your judgment.”

James didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the city lights outside. He knew Nigel was right. The pack was his responsibility, his burden to bear. But the thought of cutting Joyce out of his life felt... impossible. As though she were already entwined with his fate in a way he couldn’t escape.

“I’ll handle it,” he said finally, his voice hard. “All of it.”

Nigel nodded, though his expression remained troubled. “I hope you do. For all our sakes.”

The two men sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick. Finally, Nigel stood, finishing his drink in one long gulp. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, heading for the door. “Keep your head on straight, James.”

James watched him leave, the sound of the elevator door closing echoing through the penthouse. He turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him with a mixture of determination and uncertainty.

As he raised his glass to his lips, his thoughts returned to Joyce. Whatever pull she had on him, whatever danger Nigel sensed—it was too late to walk away now.