CHAPTER TWO: FIRST IMPRESSION

Elena woke to the sound of rain and faint light filtering through her window. She had been so exhausted from thinking and being angry that she'd forgotten to close her blinds before hitting the bed. Fortunately, she hadn't left any lights on. So, at least the darkness of her apartment had been her only protection against prying eyes, if any.

She groaned, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling.

A muffled, persistent sound broke through the rain. 

She looked around, scanning the room in confusion before realizing it was her alarm ringing and disturbing her moment of peace. The downpour had done a nice job drowning out most of the noise.

Glancing at her nightstand, she grabbed her phone and checked the time.

6:10 AM.

She had overslept.

For half a second she thought about rushing, but then yesterday came back to her like a bad dream. All that work getting ready just for Moretti to bail.

Yesterday had been a complete waste.

Well, not entirely.

She had gotten an exclusive tour of Moretti Enterprises, seen where the real power plays happened, but she just did not get to meet the main guy.

Not today.

She would be fixing that today. 

She sat up, silencing the alarm she had contemplated throwing away more times than she could count. Eventually, she would go through with it. Stretching her arms, she let out a slow sigh before rubbing her temples.

This morning, she wouldn't waste time on the same tedious, meticulous preparations she had carried out yesterday. No long showers, no heavy makeup… or maybe just a little. No perfectly tailored suit, she didn't even like them anyway.

She had already made her first impression.

It was just a shame that Xavier hadn't been there to see it.

She selected a crisp white blouse, neatly ironed, tucking it into a navy pencil skirt that hugged her curves without restricting movement. She did her hair into a simple ponytail, spending not more than a minute on it. No expensive jewelry, only her everyday earrings and minimal makeup, just mascara and tinted lip balm.

She grabbed her dark blue handbag, an unassuming choice, the kind that wouldn't get a second glance from anyone who wasn't into bags.

Today, she'd present an authentic version of herself, or at least what looked like one.

After putting on a comfortable black loafers, she checked her phone. The Uber was two minutes away.

The Uber had arrived, Elena slid into the Uber, adjusting her skirt as she settled in. She tried not to stay too fixated on her phone. Elena wasn't one to get too comfortable during rides. Something about sitting in a stranger's car always made her keep her guard up, even if it was just a little. Maybe it was a distrust of Uber drivers. Or maybe it wasn't. Either way, she never felt completely at ease with strangers. She preferred to stay aware.

When she was dropped off, it wasn't at work.

She was at her favorite coffee shop.

Part of her plan.

She was going to be late today, and she was fine with that.

No rush, no stress, no checking her phone, if she didn't see the time, she wouldn't feel guilty about it. 

Whatever happens, happens. 

Stepping inside, she was instantly met with the warm, inviting chatter of the morning crowd. And, of course, the familiar voice of her favorite barista.

"Elena! Well, well, well… look who finally decided to show up."

She turned to see Brian grinning at her from behind the counter, his arms crossed as though he had just caught a state criminal who turned out to be someone he knew. 

"For a second, I thought our coffee had left a sour taste in your mouth," he teased. 

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "As if any place could make coffee as perfectly bitter as yours."

"Ouch." He clutched his chest playfully before giving her an outfit check. "But seriously, where are you headed looking all… expensive?"

"Too much?" she asked, suddenly second guessing herself.

"Nah, you look good. Just not your usual 'I'm barely surviving' fit." He leaned in. "Big day today?"

"Okay, so remember how I told you I was applying for that job? The one at that big glass monolith in town?" she asked.

"Ohhh yeah, I remember. The Moretti Enterprises? Wait," he paused. "Don't tell me. You got the job?"

"Yeah! Well, kind of. The interview's today. But I got a tour yesterday, and you wouldn't believe it!"

"What? Spill. I need details."

"The place is huge! The inside is even better than I imagined. So well-organized, nothing out of place. Everything was just… perfect."

"Woahhh! You got pictures? Tell me you got pictures."

She winced.

"Nooooo, don't give me that face. Don't tell me you didn't take any!!"

"I couldn't! Security was way stricter than I thought. It was even more tighter on the inside than it was outside."

He groaned, shaking his head. "Elena. I am so disappointed."

She chuckled. "I'll be going there again today. Wish me luck."

"Looking like that and you still need me to wish you luck? You're luck yourself." He turned to the coffee machine and started working. "Anyway, I got you."

A moment later, he slid a cup of latte across the counter.

"On the house," he said with a casual shrug.

She smiled. "You're spoiling me again."

She picked up the cup, feeling the warmth with her hands before taking a sip. It's perfect, just the right amount of sugar.

"Brian, I swear, you could put every barista in this city out of business."

"Obviously." He grinned

She smiled, feeling much lighter than she had all morning. 

"Thanks Brian." She said finally exiting the coffee shop headed to work.

She'd taken her sweet time getting here. 

Screw punctuality.

By the time she arrived at Moretti Enterprises, the building's exterior was noticeably different from yesterday. Two security guards stood stationed at the entrance. One directly at the door, meticulously checking IDs as they entered, while the other stood further back, surveying the area like a predator, his eyes hidden behind shades.

What really caught her eye, though, were the cars. 

God, the cars!

She hadn't paid much attention to the parking lot yesterday, but today, it was nearly packed. Among the high-end vehicles, two Rolls-Royce Cullinans stood out. One black and the other white. Further away, a silver Aston Martins gleamed under the sunlight. She didn't need to ask.

Xavier Moretti was here.

Of course, he was.

That explained the heightened security, the packed lot, and the tense energy in the air.

Elena approached the entrance, part of her expecting to be waved through again like yesterday. No dice. The same security guard who had greeted her with a smile before now ran a quick scan, thoroughly checking her ID before giving her a brief nod.

"Go ahead," he said, stepping aside.

The lobby was busier than yesterday, filled with employees rushing or on calls. Whispers of conversation reached her: "Mr. Moretti is here today," and "Heard he fired the head of the fashion department." To her this was confirmation enough.

"Ms. Carter, you're late," Dramine said, concerned. "Mr. Moretti has been in for over an hour."

"Oh! Thanks, Dramine." Elena grabbed the badge already sprinting toward the elevator.

"Dramine? wait, how did you know—" she called out, then noticed her name tag. "Silly me," she muttered. 

Elena really is sharp, Dramine thought. She remembered my name after one day?

Elena pressed on the elevator button impatiently. When the doors opened, she stepped in, adjusted her blouse, prepping herself to remain calm but the elevator ride felt longer than it should have.

Then, just then.

The doors slid open.

Just as she was about to walk out, she froze.

Standing directly in front of her, mere inches away, was Xavier Moretti himself.

His presence was as intimidating and oppressing as she had imagined.

Beside him stood Margaret, her expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something close to fear.

But Elena was too busy getting slapped in the face by Xavier Moretti's whole... everything. The first thing she noticed wasn't the awkward silence.

It was his scent.

He smelled insane, like money and some secret cologne recipe given only to the greatest and society's most prioritized individuals. Has she ever stood this close to someone who smelled this damn good?

He looked different from his pictures. Taller. More defined. Up close, His skin was smooth, his lips a subtle shade of pink, his jawline was more natural, well defined, and more masculine than most men she'd encountered thus far. His black hair grew out into soft shiny curls, the kind of shine that spoke volumes about how hygienic he was. His mustache was the perfect finishing touch, impeccably trimmed, aligning seamlessly with his features. His dark blue eyes held no warmth. Only silent judgement and scrutiny. 

Then there was his suit, ash gray, sleek, tailored to perfection. The trousers fell just over the laces of his polished black shoes. But of all his features, his body caught Elena's attention the most. He was built, not the bulky overly jacked type of body. But the kind of body that made her realize she really didn't have standards. He was everything any woman would want.

Elena's pulse quickened, followed by a strange feeling of unease. She had no reason to be nervous, yet she braced herself as she stepped out of the elevator, the doors closing behind her.

Margaret recovered, jumping in with a shaky smile. "Sir, this is—"

"Office. Now. Both of you." He didn't even let her finish.

Immediately, he turned and strode toward his office, leaving no room for hesitation.

Elena and Margaret exchanged a brief glance before following.

Floor to ceiling windows stretched across one side of the room, offering an uninterrupted view of the city skyline. The office was immaculate, the decor minimal but deliberate.

His black desk sat in the center, its surface nearly bare, just a few neatly stacked papers, a sleek pen beside a closed journal, and a small carving... or was it a sculpture? A picture frame sat turned toward him, its contents hidden from view.

Xavier moved unhurriedly, lowering himself into the black leather chair behind the desk. Without a word, he turned toward the window, facing the cityscape. 

The door clicked shut. Footsteps settled. Silence.

"Sit," he ordered, not bothering to turn around.

Both obeyed. They sat awaiting his next words.

"Introduce yourself and why you're here."

His voice was calm, detached. Still, he didn't turn.

Elena hesitated causing Margaret to glance at her before she spoke.

"I am Elena Carter. I previously worked as the head of communications for the Bluwhale Company before I decided on relocating. And I am here to take on the role of an executive assistant at this firm."

Xavier's chair rocked slightly, sunlight flared against his signet ring as his fingers drummed once. "Why did you move states?"

Elena froze. Utter and complete shock. This man really did go through her application. She hadn't expected that.

Was he already onto her?

Margaret shot her a look, one of those long, meaningful stares that meant to say something, but she pretended not to see it. She wasn't going to budge.

Xavier leaned back slightly in his chair. His lips curved into a small, misleading smile.

"No response? I see," he murmured. Then, as if it didn't matter, he moved on. "Okay then, why Moretti Enterprises?"

"I believe its ambition aligns with mine, though in a different light."

Xavier hummed considering her words. "And what is your ambition?"

"Putting it simply, growth," she responded.

Silence stretched between them, short and brief.

"Ms. Margaret," Xavier called.

At this point, Elena felt confused. Who really was Xavier? He was respectful, yet somehow, he wasn't.

"Please, you may leave."

Elena's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, sir," Margaret said, rising from her seat. She hesitated for just a second before walking out, closing the door softly behind her.

With Margaret gone, he grabbed the armrest of his chair and stood up, then turned the chair back into place. With his hands behind his back, he took slow, measured steps toward where Elena sat. Her heart pounded as he walked past her, the soft drag of his shoes against the rug making her even more tense.

He stopped in front of the framed painting hung up on the wall, staring at it with an expression she couldn't read.

Then, without turning, he spoke.

"Elena Carter," he said, voice low. "Tell me, do you know me?