Are You Afraid of Me?

Elena resumed her job at the sleek, towering structure of Calloway Corporation, the air crisp with the scent of polished wood and power. 

A hush settled around the lobby, the kind that belonged to empires, where people walked with purpose, heads down, eyes focused on deals that moved the world. 

The sharp click of her heels echoed against the marble floor, each step measured, controlled, a mask over the storm beneath her skin.

She had played her part well in the interview, standing her ground against Ethan Calloway’s piercing gaze. 

But it was too easy. A man like him didn’t just hand out jobs to strangers, especially not to women with last names that carried blood and ruin.

Vincent Blake’s daughter, working for Ethan Calloway.

It was laughable.

She knew he was her Dad's sworn enemy but didn't know what went down between them. 

She had caught her dad cussing every time his name popped up on his television screen whether in the news or an interview. 

And yet, here she was, standing at the elevator doors, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag as she waited.

She wasn't curious because she didn't want to get bothered. No, she couldn't be bothered by what her father had done or was doing. She just wants to live her own life, as chooses her path. 

She was just tired of living the life of a mafia princess. 

A ding cut through her thoughts.

The doors slid open.

Inside, Ethan stood waiting.

Her breath hitched for half a second.

He hadn’t been there a moment ago.

His piercing blue eyes met hers, unreadable. He was every bit as intimidating as he had been in the interview, tall, broad-shouldered, his navy suit tailored to perfection, a presence so commanding it pressed against the walls.

"Miss Blake," he greeted, voice smooth, velvety, edged with something that sent a whisper of unease down her spine.

Elena schooled her features. "Mr. Calloway, Good Morning."

She stepped inside. The doors sealed them in.

Silence.

The hum of the elevator vibrated beneath her feet, the air suddenly too thick, too still.

"Sleep well?" Ethan asked casually, watching her in the reflection of the mirrored walls.

Elena met his gaze through the glass. "Sure I did. Thanks. Anything?"

A slow smirk curled his lips. "That depends on how well you behave."

Elena exhaled steadily, refusing to let him see the crack in her armor. She had grown up surrounded by men like him, calculating, powerful, always two steps ahead.

She could handle this.

"Alright, I will try," she replied, tilting her chin.

His eyes darkened with something unreadable. 

"Oh, Miss Blake I forgot to tell you," he murmured, stepping closer, his presence suffocating, "you signed up to play games with me the moment you walked into my office."

‘I did?” 

The doors slid open.

Elena stepped out first, pulse thrumming. Ethan’s chuckle followed her.

She had barely made it past the glass doors when a woman intercepted her path, a blonde with sharp features, a fitted black dress that screamed authority, and a clipboard in hand.

"Miss Blake?"

"Yes?"

The woman gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Welcome to Calloway Corporation. I’m Olivia Moore, Mr. Calloway’s executive assistant."

Elena’s stomach twisted. Executive assistant?

That was the job she had applied for.

Before she could question it, Olivia continued, 

"Follow me. Mr. Calloway has instructed me to give you a full tour before you begin."

Ethan strode past them, pausing just long enough to glance back at Elena.

"Play nice," he murmured, his gaze flickering with something almost amused before he disappeared into his office.

Elena clenched her jaw.

Something wasn’t right. This is supposed to be a corporate world but it seems it's more than what she expected. 

‘What’s wrong with the CEO?” She asked herself squinting 

As Olivia led her through the maze of glass-walled offices, Elena could feel the weight of eyes trailing her, employees stealing glances, whispering.

It seems she wasn’t just a new hire.

She was a curiosity. A spectacle.

By the time they reached the executive floor, Olivia turned sharply. 

"This is your desk," she said, nodding toward a sleek, minimalist workstation right outside Ethan’s office.

Elena’s stomach dropped.

She wasn’t Olivia’s replacement.

She was Ethan’s.

Elena sat at her desk, back straight, fingers resting lightly on the keyboard. She could feel Ethan’s presence even without looking, his office door was open, his gaze occasionally flicking toward her. 

She hadn’t expected to be placed directly outside his office, let alone given a role that ensured he had complete control over her every move.

This wasn’t a simple job like she envisioned. It was a test.

Does it have anything to do with who her father is? She wondered 

Whatever it is, she had no intention of failing.

A soft chime from her computer pulled her attention to an incoming email.

Subject: First Task.

Elena clicked it open.

Miss Blake,

If you truly belong here, prove it.

A file labeled Project Titan is on the company’s server. Find it. Summarize its key points. Deliver it to me in fifteen minutes.

Good luck.

Her pulse quickened.

Fifteen minutes.

She opened the company’s shared database, scrolling through hundreds of files. Project Titan wasn’t in the main system. She tried a keyword search. Nothing.

Elena clenched her jaw.

He was testing her intelligence. Fine.

She glanced toward his office. Ethan was leaning back in his chair, watching her through the glass walls, his expression unreadable.

Elena forced herself to breathe. If it wasn’t in the main system, it had to be restricted. 

She checked the executive access folders, scanning through high-level projects. Still nothing.

Then, she noticed a naming pattern among the confidential files. The codenames were all structured similarly, but one seemed out of place: PTN_01.

She clicked it.

A password prompt appeared.

Elena’s heart pounded.

She didn’t have access.

Think.

Ethan wouldn’t expect her to hack the system, but he would expect her to figure out a way in.

She quickly pulled up her email again, scanning his message. If you truly belong here, prove it.

It was a clue.

Prove it.

Elena typed: Proveit 

Incorrect password 

She typed: belonghere.

Access granted.

“So easy?” she exclaimed 

The file opened. She skimmed the pages, her mind racing. Project Titan was a high-stakes merger deal worth billions.

If she messed this up, she wouldn’t just be out of a job, she’d be making enemies with powerful men considering that her father might be already involved. 

She summarized the key points, double-checked her work, and then stood.

Ethan was still watching.

Elena walked into his office, dropped the printed summary onto his desk, and folded her arms. “Here please.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across his lips.

“Impressive,” he murmured. “But tell me, Miss Blake, how did you find it?”

Elena smiled. “If I told you, I wouldn’t be as valuable, would I?”

For the first time, Ethan’s smirk faltered, just for a second.

Then he chuckled. “You might just belong here.”

Elena didn’t blink. “Oh, I intend to survive here too, Mr. Calloway.”

His eyes darkened. “Good. Because this is only the beginning.”

*******

Vincent Blake sat in the dimly lit corner of his study, the glow from the city skyline reflecting off the polished whiskey glass in his hand. He swirled the amber liquid absentmindedly, his mind elsewhere.

His daughter was up to something.

Elena had never shown interest in the corporate world, yet, she had walked into Calloway Corporation like she belonged there. That wasn’t an accident.

Vincent had spent decades building his empire, controlling his world with an iron grip. He knew the game better than anyone. 

And Elena, his only daughter, had been raised in that world. She was too smart to act without reason.

But the question was, whose game was she playing?

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Enter," Vincent said, his voice calm but firm.

The door opened, and Marcus, his most trusted enforcer, stepped inside. Dressed in his usual dark suit, the man exudes quiet menace, his sharp gaze never missing a detail.

"You wanted an update on Miss Blake?" Marcus asked.

Vincent set his glass down. "Go on."

"She started work at Calloway Corporation today," Marcus said. "Position: executive assistant to Ethan Calloway."

Vincent's jaw tightened. Assistant?

No. That wasn’t Elena’s style. 

"She didn’t just get the job," Marcus continued. "She earned it. Calloway put her through a test. She passed."

Vincent exhaled slowly, his mind working through the implications.

Ethan Calloway wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t let a mafia princess into his company without a reason.

Was he using Elena? Or was she using him?

Vincent leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. "I want eyes on her. Close, but not obvious. If she’s making a move, I need to know what it is."

Marcus nodded. "Already done."

"And Calloway?"

Marcus hesitated. "He’s paying attention to her. More than expected."

Vincent’s grip tightened around his glass.

That was dangerous.

Ethan Calloway was not a man to be underestimated. He was powerful, ruthless in business, and carried a reputation for being unpredictable. Vincent had never considered him a threat before, but now?

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

"Keep watching," Vincent ordered. "If he gets too close, remind him who she belongs to."

Marcus inclined his head. "Understood."

As the door closed behind him, Vincent picked up his whiskey again, staring into the swirling liquid.

Elena thought she was free.

She wasn’t.

She would never be. She would always be his daughter. 

*******

The next morning, Elena walked into Calloway Corporation, dressed in a fitted black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse. If Ethan wanted to test her, she was ready.

She stepped into his office, where he stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city.

He turned when she entered, his gaze assessing. “You’re punctual.”

“You don’t seem to me as the kind of man who tolerates lateness, Mr CEO.”

His lips curved slightly. “Smart.”

She crossed her arms. “What are we doing today Sir?”

Ethan gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Sit.”

She did, crossing her legs as she met his gaze.

“I have a proposition,” he said, his voice smooth. “You’ll be working directly under me. That means every deal, every negotiation, every move I make, you’ll be involved.”

Elena didn’t react, though her pulse quickened. This was more than she’d anticipated. 

He was really trying to test her if she was working for her father. He could have asked her directly, but who would? 

She doesn't want to be caught in whatever happened between them. She just wanted to live away from being a Mafia Princess. 

“Mr Calloway, is there something you want to ask me?”