Aisha stood frozen in the center of Raj Malhotra's office, the contract shaking slightly in her hands. The room felt too large, too silent, too heavy—like the walls themselves were listening.
Raj watched her.
Not politely.
Not professionally.
He watched her like she was a puzzle only he was allowed to solve.
A fire only he could control.
His gaze never softened, never shifted, never apologized.
It consumed.
Aisha swallowed hard. "Sir… I need time to think."
"No."
The word struck her like ice.
"No?" she repeated.
"I don't give time," Raj said. "I give decisions."
Her breath stilled.
"This is my life," she protested. "My choice."
His eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"And you are in my world now," he replied quietly. "In my world, hesitation is a flaw."
She stiffened.
"Then maybe I don't belong in your world."
He took one slow step toward her.
Just one.
And it was enough.
"You belong," he said. "More than you think."
Aisha's heartbeat thundered in her ears as he closed the distance between them. He passed her—not touching, but close enough that the air between them trembled—then stopped behind her, facing the window.
She could see his reflection—sharp lines, clenched jaw, shoulders carved in tension.
"Look outside," Raj said.
Aisha turned slowly, confused.
The entire city stretched beneath them. Cars looked like insects, people like dust. TitanCorp rose above everything—too high, too powerful, too unreachable.
"This," Raj said, voice low, "is the height from which I rule."
His eyes met hers in the glass—dark reflections locking onto her.
"Anyone I bring into this place," he continued, "I protect."
Her lips parted.
Protect?
From what?
Or from whom?
Raj walked back—slow, controlled steps. When he stopped in front of her again, he was close enough for her pulse to stumble.
"I'm offering you a position no one else gets," he said. "Direct assistant. Access to me. My floor. My inner circle."
"That sounds like a prison," she whispered.
His voice dropped.
"Only if you fight it."
Her breath hitched.
He saw it.
He always saw it.
"What if I say no?" she whispered.
Raj didn't blink.
"You won't."
Her spine stiffened. "You don't get to decide that."
He lifted his hand.
She froze.
He didn't touch her.
He brushed a strand of her hair aside—slowly—until his fingertips hovered dangerously close to her cheek.
Too close.
Her breath trembled.
His eyes darkened, voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm not deciding for you, Aisha."
He leaned in.
"I'm deciding because of you."
Her heart pounded so loud she thought he might hear it.
"I don't understand," she whispered.
Raj exhaled, slow, controlled—like he was battling something inside him.
"You walked into my building and… disrupted me."
Her breath caught.
"People don't disrupt me."
He stepped away abruptly, as if her closeness burned him.
"You start today," he said, voice snapping back to cold CEO command. "Position: Personal Executive Assistant."
Aisha tightened her grip on the file. "Sir, I—"
"Sit."
The word hit like a physical force.
She didn't want to sit.
She sat anyway.
Something about defying him felt impossible—like pushing against a wall that wouldn't move.
He pushed a tablet toward her. "Read through your contract. You'll sign it in my office."
"In your presence?" she asked softly.
"In my shadow," he corrected.
Her stomach twisted.
"What exactly are my responsibilities?" she asked.
Raj's jaw tightened.
"Everything I assign."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get."
She inhaled shakily. "What if your expectations are unreasonable?"
A slow smile cut across his lips.
Not warm.
Not kind.
A warning in the shape of a smile.
"My expectations," he said, "are always unreasonable."
Aisha felt heat rise in her cheeks.
This man was dangerous.
Not because he yelled.
Not because he threatened.
Because he didn't need to.
Because the room changed when he breathed.
Because he made her feel… seen. Too seen.
As she stared down at the contract, Raj's gaze remained locked on her like he was memorizing the shape of her pulse.
"You're trembling," he said quietly.
Her head snapped up. "No, I'm not."
"You are."
His eyes dropped to her hands—slightly shaking on the file.
"Why?" he asked.
Aisha swallowed, forcing strength into her voice. "Because you're intimidating."
"Good."
She blinked.
"What?"
"I prefer honesty."
His tone sharpened.
"And fear keeps people alert."
"I'm not afraid of you," she lied.
Raj stepped closer.
Too close.
The heat of him rolled across her skin.
He tilted his head slightly.
"You should be."
Her breath stumbled.
His voice softened, dangerously.
"Because I don't lose what I want."
She froze.
"Do I look like something you want?" she whispered.
He didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
The answer hit her like a pulse.
Not lust.
Not tenderness.
Possession.
Silent. Heavy. Absolute.
Before she could respond, the office door burst open.
"Sir! There's an urgent—"
Raj's glare sliced through the air.
His assistant froze mid-sentence.
Then his eyes darted to Aisha. Confusion flickered across his face. "Sir, she's—"
"She is none of your concern," Raj said.
His tone could have cracked marble.
"Handle the issue yourself."
"Sir, it's the board—"
"I said handle it."
The assistant retreated instantly.
The door shut.
The silence that followed was thick.
Aisha exhaled shakily. "Do you always speak to your staff like that?"
Raj didn't look away from her.
"Only when they interrupt what's mine."
Her heart crashed.
"Raj…" she whispered before realizing she'd used his name.
His eyes sharpened.
"Say that again."
She swallowed. "Raj—"
He inhaled deeply, like the sound of his name on her lips was something darkly satisfying.
"There," he murmured. "Better."
Aisha stood abruptly. "I need air."
"You need to sign the contract."
"I can't think."
"You don't need to. I already have."
She stared at him.
"You don't own me," she said quietly.
He stepped forward.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Until she backed into the desk.
His hands braced the surface on either side of her, trapping her without touching.
His voice was a whisper against her ear.
"Not yet."
Her breath hitched violently.
Raj leaned back just enough to meet her eyes.
"But you will."
A shiver ran through her.
"As of today," he said, "you work for me. You report to me. You exist in this building because I allow it."
Aisha's pulse pounded in her throat.
"And until you understand your place," Raj whispered, "I will not let you walk away."
Her voice trembled. "And what place is that?"
Raj's eyes darkened with something raw.
"Beside me, Aisha."
Her stomach flipped.
She didn't know if she should run—
or lean into the fire trying to consume her.