Tori's fingers trembled as she pushed through the glass doors of Royal Enterprises.
'Those eyes.'
She'd seen them last night—cold, calculating, inhuman. The same eyes that belonged to the man who now owned the company she was about to infiltrate.
Bell Royal. The Devil himself.
She had three months to complete her mission. Three months to hack into his system from the inside. And she'd just walked straight into his territory.
"Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist's voice dripped with disdain as she eyed Tori's simple blouse and slacks.
"Job interview. Assistant position."
The woman's perfectly manicured nail tapped against her keyboard with exaggerated slowness. "I don't see your name here. I suggest you leave before I call security."
Tori's jaw tightened. She'd submitted her application herself—no hacking, nothing traceable. This receptionist was deliberately blocking her.
"Check again."
"Listen, 'honey'—"
The temperature in the lobby dropped ten degrees.
Tori turned and collided with a wall of expensive suit and intoxicating cologne. She stumbled back, her gaze traveling up to meet those impossible eyes.
Heterochromia. One silver, the other gold. The Devil's trademark.
Bell Royal stood before her, his expression carved from ice. Six feet of lethal elegance in a three-piece suit that probably cost more than her entire year's rent.
"I apologize," Tori said, steadying her voice.
His gaze pinned her in place. Not curious. Not interested. Simply... assessing.
"Is there a problem?" His voice was smooth velvet wrapped around steel.
Tori straightened. "I applied for a position here, but apparently my credentials have mysteriously disappeared. If this is standard practice at Royal Enterprises, I'll take my skills elsewhere."
The receptionist behind her made a strangled sound.
Bell's eyes shifted to the woman for exactly two seconds. That's all it took. The receptionist went paper-white, her hands shaking against the keyboard.
"Aidan. Handle it."
A blonde man materialized at Bell's elbow—his assistant, Tori recognized from her research. Bell walked away without another glance, dismissing the entire situation with the same energy most people reserved for swatting flies.
"Pack your things," Aidan told the receptionist, his friendly smile completely gone. "You're fired."
"No—please! I have children, I'm the head of my family—"
Tori watched the woman collapse to her knees, begging. Part of her felt vindicated. A smaller part felt sick. She'd only wanted to get past her, not destroy her livelihood.
But this was the Devil's domain. Mercy wasn't in his vocabulary.
"Miss Tori Vega?" Aidan's smile returned as he turned to her, smooth as if the last thirty seconds hadn't happened. "Let me show you to the interview room. I hope we'll be seeing you join our team."
"You will," Tori said.
As they walked through marble hallways lined with abstract art worth millions, Aidan's phone appeared in his hand. His voice dropped low, but Tori's hearing was excellent.
"Run a background check on Tori Vega. Deep dive. I want everything by the end of the day."
Tori's lips twitched.
Let them look. They'd find exactly what she'd planted: a girl from a poor background with excellent credentials and nothing suspicious. Being the nation's top hacker had its advantages.
---
Whereas, The interview room held two other candidates and three judges seated behind a long table. Tori took her seat, noting the fourth chair—turned away from everyone, its occupant invisible.
"Tell us why we should hire you," the lead judge said.
Candidate one launched into a rehearsed speech that Tori recognized from a ChatGPT template. Candidate two spent five minutes kissing ass and name-dropping connections.
"Miss Tori?"
She met their eyes. "You already have specialists in every department. What you need is someone who anticipates problems before they happen. I built an app that tracks my employer's schedule, preferences, and needs in real-time. No wasted time, no miscommunication. I deliver efficiency. And I expect to be treated with the same professionalism I provide. If that's not possible here, then you don't deserve what I'm offering."
Stunned silence.
"We'll... contact you—"
"No."
The voice came from the hidden chair. Deep. Final.
"Sir?" the judges asked.
"Everyone else leaves. Except Miss Tori."
The chair swiveled.
Bell Royal's striking eyes locked onto hers, and Tori forgot how to breathe. Up close, he was devastating—sharp cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass, lips that had probably ruined countless women.
And those eyes. God, those eyes saw *everything*.
"Resume tomorrow," he said. "Report to the Upper Deck. Before you leave today, collect your contract from my office."
He stood and walked out, leaving a trail of woody, spiced cologne in his wake.
Tori blinked. "Did I just... get hired?"
---
After she left the room, a tiny girl struggling with a mountain of papers nearly collided with her in the hallway. Tori caught the stack before it toppled, her reflexes automatic.
"Careful."
"Thank you!" The girl's eyes went wide. "You're new, right? I'm Lucy. No one helps with these because they're scared of the Wolf."
"The Wolf?"
Lucy giggled. "That's what we call the boss. Mr. Royal. He's... intense."
'That's one word for it' —Tori thought.
"His office is that way," Lucy said, nodding toward double doors at the end of the hall. "Good luck!"
---
Tori knocked.
"Come in."
Bell's office was a study in controlled power—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, dark wood, leather, and not a single personal item in sight. Sterile. Perfect. Just like him.
He stood behind his desk, top button undone, sleeves rolled to his forearms. Tori's gaze caught on the exposed skin before she forced herself to look away.
Did he catch her staring? His eyes held a flicker of something—amusement? Satisfaction?
"Your contract." He pushed a folder across the desk. "Read it. Ask questions."
Tori scanned the pages. Standard NDA, non-compete clause, salary—
Her eyes stopped on the number.
One million dollars. Annual salary.
"This can't be right."
"You'll earn it." Bell leaned against his desk, arms crossed. "I need an assistant. But I also need a live-in nanny for my son."
Tori's head snapped up. "Live-in?"
"Non-negotiable. You'll manage my household and my schedule. If you can't commit to that, the offer drops to standard assistant pay."
She should walk away. Living under his roof meant constant surveillance, constant risk of discovery.
But that money... That money could pay off some of the money she owed her organisation.
"I accept."
His lips curved—not quite a smile, but close. "Good. You move in tomorrow. Bring everything you need."
Tori signed the contract, her hand steady despite her racing heart.
As she turned to leave, Bell's voice stopped her.
"Miss Tori."
She froze.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his silver eye. "Next time, wear something more professional. I don't like my employees looking like they're suffering under my care."
Heat flooded her face. "Yes, sir."
Outside the building, her phone buzzed.
**Vega calling...**
Tori answered. "I'm in."
"Good. Now don't get yourself killed."
"Too late for that," Tori muttered, staring up at the Royal Enterprises tower. "I just signed a deal with the Devil."
---