A DANGEROUS GAME BEGINS

The sun hadn’t yet fully risen when Lana’s alarm went off, the shrill sound cutting through the thick silence of her small apartment. She groaned, blindly reaching out from beneath her covers to silence it. A sharp chill clung to the air, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to curl back under the warmth of her blankets. But there was no room for weakness not when she worked for Damian Wolfe.

With a sigh, she pushed the covers off and sat up, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. The soft glow of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, casting long shadows across the modest space. Her apartment was far from luxurious one bedroom, barely furnished, with a small kitchen that still smelled faintly of the instant ramen she’d had the night before.

The walls were painted in neutral tones, but she had added her own touch framed photographs of places she wanted to visit, a single potted plant sitting on the windowsill, and a well-worn bookshelf filled with secondhand novels. It was small, but it was hers.

Dragging herself out of bed, she headed for the bathroom. The tiles were cool against her bare feet as she stood in front of the mirror, tying her hair back into a neat bun. Dark brown eyes stared back at her, revealing nothing of the turmoil beneath.

She turned on the shower, letting the hot water soothe her muscles. As she stood under the steady stream, last night’s email replayed in her head.

We know who you are.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t let fear take over. Not now.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed in a crisp white blouse tucked into a fitted black pencil skirt. Professional, simple, and polished the kind of look that commanded respect without drawing too much attention.

Slipping on her heels, she grabbed her bag, glanced around her small apartment one last time, and walked out the door.

Wolfe Corporation’s headquarters loomed over the city like a glass fortress. The moment Lana stepped through the massive glass doors, the controlled chaos of the morning rush surrounded her. Employees in tailored suits hurried past, heels clicking against the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the faint undertone of expensive cologne.

The lobby was grand, designed to intimidate. Towering glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, allowing the golden light of the rising sun to spill in. A sleek, minimalist reception desk sat in the center, where two perfectly poised receptionists greeted visitors with cool efficiency.

Lana’s heels echoed against the pristine marble as she walked toward the elevator. She could feel the stares, the whispers the new assistant of Damian Wolfe. The man was practically a legend here, feared and respected in equal measure.

Some of the employees she passed offered curious glances, others outright assessed her with scrutiny. She knew what they were thinking. How long will this one last?

The last assistant had barely lasted a month.

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the top floor. The ride up was smooth, but her pulse quickened as the numbers climbed. The executive floor was a world of its own quiet, luxurious, and far removed from the chaos below.

As the doors slid open, she stepped out onto thick, plush carpeting. The walls were adorned with abstract paintings, and a faint scent of leather and oak filled the space. The reception area was sleek, with a single dark wood desk where Damian’s executive secretary, a woman named Valerie, sat typing away.

Valerie barely glanced up. “He’s waiting for you,” she said, her voice smooth but devoid of warmth.

Lana nodded, straightened her posture, and walked toward Damian Wolfe’s office.

The heavy double doors were intimidating, made of dark mahogany with intricate carvings. She inhaled deeply before knocking once.

“Come in.”

His voice was sharp, commanding.

Steeling herself, she pushed open the door.

Damian Wolfe stood by the window, his back to her. Morning light poured through the glass, casting him in sharp contrast. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his presence dominating the space without effort.

“Close the door,” he said without turning.

Lana obeyed, standing stiffly as she waited for him to acknowledge her.

After a moment, he finally turned. His gaze was piercing, assessing.

“There’s a meeting in ten minutes,” he said, his voice cool and efficient. “Henry Calloway is trying to steal one of our biggest clients. You’re coming with me.”

Lana’s brows lifted slightly. “Me?”

“You’re my assistant, aren’t you?” His tone was clipped, impatient. “You sit in, you take notes, and you don’t embarrass me. Understood?”

She swallowed down the retort on the tip of her tongue. “Understood.”

Without another word, he grabbed his tablet and strode toward the door. Lana followed, ignoring the curious glances of the employees outside as they made their way to the conference room.

The room was designed for power floor to ceiling windows, a long glass table, and high backed leather chairs. Henry Calloway sat at the far end, his suit pristine, a smug look on his face.

Across from him, Damian took his seat, his expression unreadable. Lana settled beside him, unfolding her notepad.

“I’ll make this quick,” Calloway began, leaning back. “Your client, Everett Holdings, is considering a move to our firm. We’re offering better rates, better services. It’s business, Wolfe.”

Lana’s grip tightened on her pen. She glanced at Damian, expecting him to react. He didn’t. He simply leaned back, arms crossed, watching Calloway with quiet intensity.

“And you thought I’d just let that happen?” Damian asked, voice smooth but laced with something dangerous.

“I thought you’d see reason.” Calloway smirked. “Everett Holdings is already halfway out the door. Unless you can match our offer, this meeting is a waste of time.”

Lana’s mind worked quickly. Calloway was trying to back Damian into a corner.

Damian remained silent. Then, subtly, he tilted his head toward her.

It was the smallest of gestures, but she understood immediately. He wanted to see what she could do.

She took a deep breath.

“With all due respect, Mr. Calloway,” she spoke up, keeping her tone steady, “Everett Holdings isn’t just about rates and services. Their CEO, Richard Everett, values stability and long term partnerships. And as far as I recall, your firm has had three major turnovers in the last year alone.”

Calloway’s smirk faltered slightly.

Lana continued, “That kind of inconsistency isn’t ideal for a company looking for security. Wolfe Corporation, on the other hand, has been their partner for five years. The numbers might tempt them, but trust?” She tilted her head slightly. “That takes longer to build.”

Silence stretched across the room.

Then, finally, Calloway chuckled. “Smart girl.” He turned to Damian. “She speaks for you now?”

Damian’s lips curled into the faintest smirk. “She makes a good point, doesn’t she?”

Calloway’s jaw tightened. He knew he had lost this round.

With an irritated sigh, he stood. “Fine. Looks like Everett Holdings stays with you for now.”

The moment he walked out, Damian turned to Lana, his sharp eyes assessing her.

“You handled yourself well,” he admitted. “Almost impressive.”

Lana arched a brow. “Almost?”

But before she could push further, Damian’s expression turned serious.

“Since you’re so confident, let’s see how you handle this.”

He leaned against his desk, watching her with cold amusement.

“I have a problem. You’re going to fix it,” he said.

Lana crossed her arms. “And if I don’t?”

Damian smirked. “Then you’re fired.”

………………….

Lana’s phone buzzed. A new email.

She glanced down, and her stomach dropped.

Unknown Sender: You don’t belong here. Leave while you still can.