The next morning Lia arrived early—so early the office lights were still flickering on.
If Leo Grant wanted punctuality, she'd give him perfection.
But when Leo strode in, tall and composed as ever, he simply looked at her and said,
"You're learning."
Learning? She'd practically run here.
Still, she bit her tongue.
"Today," Leo said, setting a folder between them on the desk, "you have a new set of expectations to follow.
"Expectations?" Lia repeated warily.
"Rules," he corrected.
He opened the folder. Inside, there was a crisp list—neatly typed, painfully strict.
Arrive before him.
Follow the instructions immediately.
Challenge him only when necessary.
Stay professional at all times.
And the last one hit her hardest:
Never take anything personally.
Lia frowned. "Is this… really how you work?"
"It's how I succeed," Leo said simply. "If we're going to function together, you need to understand how I operate."
Lia crossed her arms. "And what about how I operate?"
For the first time that morning, Leo's gaze softened—barely.
"That," he said, "is what I'm trying to learn."
The words caught her off guard.
Before she could reply, he stepped closer to her, his voice low.
"If you follow these rules, we won't clash again."
"And if I don't?" she asked.
Leo's eyes held hers—cool, steady, unreadable. "Then you'll learn," he said in a low voice, "how abrasive I can be." A chill ran through her, not just from fear… but from something she couldn't name. The game had now started.