Chapter 2

Monday morning, 5:47 AM. Sophia’s phone buzzed before her alarm could finish its first note.

Board meeting moved to 8:15. Need Yamamoto contract revisions, coffee (Ethiopian single-origin, black), and Henderson files on my desk by 7:30. Welcome to Sterling Industries.

Morrison situation requires immediate attention. Handle it discreetly.

One more thing - wear the navy dress. It projects competence without being distracting. Mostly.

That last line sent heat through her that had nothing to do with the morning coffee she hadn’t had yet.

He was testing her. Trying to make her fail spectacularly on day one.

Unfortunately for Alexander Sterling, Sophia had never been good at failing.

By 7:25 AM, she stood outside his office with steaming coffee, files, contract revisions, and a plan that was either brilliant or insane.

She knocked.

“Enter.”

Alexander looked up, and surprise flashed across his face before the mask slipped back. He was devastating in a charcoal suit, dark hair perfect, gray eyes sharp and assessing.

“Cutting it close, Miss Martinez.” He glanced at his Rolex. “Thirty seconds to spare.”

“I prefer ‘perfectly timed.’” She set the coffee on his desk, noting how his eyes tracked her movements. “Ethiopian single-origin, black, brewed at 195 degrees. Henderson files, chronologically organized with yesterday’s updates highlighted. Yamamoto contract revisions with legal’s amendments marked for review.”

He picked up the coffee, inhaling. The first sip was a moment of truth.

“Acceptable.” High praise, she suspected. “And the Morrison situation?”

“Handled.”

His eyes sharpened. “Elaborate.”

“Morrison sent his inflammatory email Friday night from his personal account. Unfortunately for him, he copied his assistant, who forwarded it to legal.” She pulled out her phone. “This morning at 6:30, Morrison received a call from his accountant about an SEC inquiry into his personal investments—specifically, potential conflicts of interest involving board members who take public positions against acquisitions while shorting the company stock.”

Alexander went very still, coffee frozen halfway to his lips. “You had Morrison investigated in two hours?”

“I had his public financial disclosures cross-referenced with his recent trading activity. All legal, publicly available information.” Her smile was innocent as a blade. “His accountant may have learned that the inquiry could become very formal and public if Morrison continues creating board drama.”

“And Morrison?”

“Withdrew his emergency meeting request twenty minutes ago. Sent an apologetic email to the board about ‘merely raising due diligence questions’ and having ‘complete confidence in your leadership.’”

Alexander set down his coffee, studying her like she was a fascinating puzzle. “How?”

“Administrative assistants across the city have an efficient information network. We take care of our own.”

He leaned back in his chair, and for the first time, his expression was unguarded. “You terrify me.”

“Good. That means I’m doing my job.”

The air between them crackled with electricity. He was looking at her differently now—not as an assistant, but as an equal. A weapon he hadn’t expected to be quite this sharp.

“Walk with me,” he said, standing and grabbing his jacket. “The board meeting is in Conference Room A. I want to watch Morrison squirm when he realizes his new assistant is more dangerous than he thought.”

As they moved through Sterling Industries, Sophia felt every eye on them. Alexander didn’t walk he prowled, commanding space with effortless confidence. And she was the new gladiator at his side.

The boardroom was corporate power incarnate. Mahogany. Leather. A conference table large enough to land aircraft. Twelve men and two women who represented the kind of wealth that could make or break companies with a phone call.

James Morrison sat mid-table, silver-haired and expensively dressed, radiating entitled arrogance. But stress lines creased his eyes, and his hands weren’t quite steady.

“Gentlemen, ladies.” Alexander took his seat with the casual authority of a king. “I understand there were concerns about the Yamamoto acquisition.”

Morrison cleared his throat, gaze flicking nervously to Sophia. “Yes, well, we want to ensure appropriate caution with such a significant investment.”

“Caution is admirable, James.” Alexander’s voice carried just enough edge to make everyone pay attention. “Though I find it interesting that your concerns coincide with aggressive short positions you’ve taken on Sterling stock. Fifty thousand shares at $127, betting the Yamamoto deal would drive our price down.”

The temperature dropped ten degrees. Morrison went white, then red, then white again.

“That’s a completely legal investment strategy—”

“Legal, yes. Ethical, questionable. Intelligent?” Alexander’s laugh could freeze hell. “Our stock price has risen to $134 since the announcement. So your investment strategy is about as successful as your attempt to undermine company leadership.”

Morrison looked like he wanted to disappear. The other board members stared at him with disgust and pity, his influence evaporating in real time.

“Perhaps we should table concerns about Yamamoto until board members divest conflicting financial interests. Unless someone would prefer to explain to the SEC why they used inside knowledge to profit from betting against their own company.”

The meeting that followed was a masterclass in dominance. Alexander controlled the room through brilliant strategy and subtle intimidation. The board fell in line. Morrison said nothing, looking like a man watching his career burn.

When it was over and everyone had filed out most giving Morrison wide berth—Alexander remained seated, gray eyes fixed on Sophia with unsettling intensity.

“Well? What did you think of your first board meeting?”

Sophia had spent two hours observing him. The way he controlled the room through sheer personality. The surgical precision of Morrison’s dismantling. The barely leashed power radiating from him like heat.

“I think you enjoyed that more than you should have.”

His eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Morrison was already beaten. The SEC inquiry scared him enough to back down. Everything after was just… theater.”

“Theater.” His voice went dangerously quiet.

“Very effective theater,” she amended. “But you didn’t need to humiliate him in front of the entire board to achieve your objective.”

The silence was electric, dangerous. Alexander stood slowly, moving around the table with predatory grace until he was close enough that she saw the storm in his gray eyes.

“Are you criticizing how I run my company, Miss Martinez?”

“I’m doing my job. You said you needed someone who wasn’t afraid to tell you when you were about to make a mistake.”

“And you think destroying Morrison was a mistake?”

“I think you accomplished your immediate goal while creating a long-term problem. Morrison won’t forget this humiliation. He’ll spend six months looking for revenge, which means you’ll need to watch your back every time he’s in the room.”

Alexander was close enough now that she smelled his cologne, saw the muscle jumping in his jaw. “What would you have done differently?”

“Given him a face-saving way to retreat. Let him withdraw ‘after further reflection’ rather than making it clear he was retreating under threat. Wounded pride is dangerous, Mr. Sterling. It makes people do stupid, desperate things.”

For a moment, she thought she’d pushed too far. Alexander’s hands clenched at his sides, his body radiating tension like a coiled spring.

Then he laughed dark honey that sent shivers down her spine.

“You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation. You just spent five minutes lecturing me on corporate strategy. Most people are too terrified to disagree with me about the weather.”

“Most people don’t work for you. They work around you, or under you, or in spite of you. But they don’t actually work with you.”

“And you think you can work with me?”

The question hung between them, loaded with implications she wasn’t ready to unpack. Because she did think she could work with him—not just for him, but alongside him. She’d seen the brilliant mind behind the ruthless reputation.

“I think you’re not nearly as ruthless as you pretend to be.”

Alexander went very still. “Careful. That sounds like amateur psychology.”

“Does it? Or does it sound like someone paying attention?” She took a half-step closer, drawn by something she couldn’t name. “You could have destroyed Morrison completely. Made calls and had him removed from the board. Instead, you gave him a public lesson and left him with just enough dignity to function. That’s not ruthlessness that’s precision.”

“Perhaps I’m saving complete destruction for later.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you understand that broken people make unpredictable enemies, while humbled people can still be useful.”

The staring contest felt like it lasted hours. Alexander’s gaze moved over her face like he was solving a complex equation.

“You’re either very brave or very stupid.”

“In my experience, there’s not much difference.”

His smile was slow, predatory, devastating. “No, Miss Martinez. There really isn’t.”

He moved past her toward the door, but paused with his hand on the handle. “Same time tomorrow. And Sophia?”

The way he said her name dropping the formal ‘Miss Martinez’ sent electricity racing through her.

“Excellent work today.”

As she watched him walk away, Sophia realized she was in serious trouble. Because Alexander Sterling was dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with his reputation. He was dangerous because he was brilliant, complex, and apparently capable of recognizing those same qualities in others.

And despite every rational thought screaming at her to be careful, she was looking forward to finding out just how dangerous he could be.