Zoe Bennett clutched her folder tightly as she weaved through the morning rush on Fifth Avenue, her heels clicking anxiously against the pavement. The Manhattan air was brisk, filled with the sounds of honking cabs, hurried footsteps, and the hiss of steam rising from sidewalk grates.
This was it. Her first real shot at a job since graduating from college last month. Carrington Corp. wasnt just any company, it was one of the most powerful firms in the country. Getting in would change everything.
I just need one yes, she whispered under her breath. Just one.
She was halfway through the crosswalk when the light changed. A luxury black Maserati roared around the corner too fast.
Before she could react, a tidal wave of gutter water splashed across her blouse, coat, and worse, her neatly printed rsum.
Zoe froze, drenched and livid.
The car jerked to a stop. The drivers door swung open, and out stepped a man in a dark, custom-fitted suit that screamed expensive. He was tall, immaculately groomed, and devastatingly handsome in a cold, detached sort of way.
His steel-gray eyes scanned her from head to toe, stopping on the mess hed made.
You alright? he asked, tone clipped and entirely unapologetic.
Zoe blinked. You soaked me! And my rsum! Do I look alright to you?
His brows twitched, just barely. Its Manhattan. People should know better than to cross mid-change.
Her mouth dropped open. Are you seriously blaming me?
Im simply pointing out the facts.
She stepped toward him, fury rising. Well, heres a fact: you drive like an arrogant jerk, and you owe me a dry shirt and a fresh set of documents.
He gave a dry, amused exhale. Noted. Anything else?
Zoe scowled. No. And I sincerely hope I never see your smug face again.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unaffected. The feelings mutual.
With that, he slid back into the drivers seat and drove off, leaving her standing in the middle of the sidewalk wet, furious, and dangerously close to tears.
Forty-five minutes later
Zoe sat in the marble lobby of Carrington Corp., hugging her coat tightly around her ruined blouse. The receptionist, a polite man with kind eyes and a name tag that read Kelvin, offered her a small smile.
Someone will be with you shortly, he said. First interview of the day. Youre early.
Yeah, she muttered, just my luck.
She tried not to focus on how sticky her clothes felt or how wrinkled her once-pristine papers were. All she had to do was survive this interview. Keep her cool. Prove herself.
The sound of the elevator dinging snapped her out of her thoughts.
She looked up.
And her heart stopped.
There he was.
The same man from earlier. Same cold eyes. Same arrogant walk. But this time, surrounded by assistants and people whispering his name with reverence.
Mr. Carrington.
Zoes stomach dropped.
Mr. Carrington?!
No. No, no, nothis had to be a nightmare.
Their eyes met.
Recognition flickered in his expression, followed by something dangerously close to amusement.
Well, well, he said, walking straight toward her. You clean up well. Relatively.
Zoe stood up slowly. You youre the CEO?
I am.
She tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat.
He turned to Kelvin without looking away from her. Send her to my office. Ill handle the interview personally.
Kelvin blinked in surprise. Of course, sir.
Zoes pulse thundered in her ears. Oh God Im doomed.
Zoe followed behind Mr. Kelvin in stiff silence as they ascended the elevator to the top floor of Carrington Corp. Her mind raced, equal parts panic and fury.
Of all the companies in New York
Of all the buildings
Why did I have to argue with the CEO himself?
The elevator doors slid open into a sleek, expansive office suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the room in morning light. The skyline stretched endlessly behind Damian Carrington, who stood with his back to her, sipping from a black ceramic mug like he didnt just flip her entire morning upside down.
Go ahead, Kelvin whispered. Hes expecting you.
Zoe took a breath and stepped inside.
Damian turned slowly, as if savoring the moment. Miss Bennett. Please, sit.
His voice was cool, unhurried. A man in control of everything, especially people like her.
She sat, clutching her resume folder like a shield. Thank you for seeing me.
Oh, I wouldnt miss this for the world. He set down his mug and folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the edge of his desk. So, lets begin. Tell me, what makes you think youre qualified to work at Carrington Corp?
Zoe cleared her throat, trying to ignore the dried coffee stain on her collar. I graduated from NYU with a degree in communications. I interned at two media firms, helped lead campus campaigns, and
Excellent, he cut in. And what about your people skills? How do you handle difficult personalities?
Was that sarcasm in his voice?
Zoes jaw clenched. I try to stay professional and address conflict respectfully. Even when others dont.
He smirked. Thats mature of you.
The silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken challenge. He was enjoying this. Toying with her. She knew it and she hated how smug he looked.
Tell me, he said, circling the desk and sitting across from her, what would you do if your boss gave you tasks that seemed impossible?
Zoe stared at him. Id figure out a way to get it done.
Even if he was rude? Dismissive? Demanding?
Yes. Her voice was sharper now. Because thats part of the job. And I dont scare easily.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression. Interest? Respect? Annoyance?
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. Youre either brave, Miss Bennett or reckless.
Ive been called worse.
His lips twitched. For a second, it almost looked like a smile. Youre hired.
Zoe blinked. What?
You start tomorrow. Eight a.m. sharp. My assistant will send the paperwork. Welcome to Carrington Corp.
She blinked again. WaitI got the job?
He stood and walked to the window, his tone neutral again. Yes. Lets see how long you last.
Zoe stood slowly, both dazed and suspicious. Thank you I guess.
As she turned to leave, his voice floated after her, low and deliberate.
Oh, and Miss Bennett?
She paused.
Next time, try not to spill coffee on your potential boss. Its bad for first impressions.
Her cheeks burned.
She didnt respond. She just walked out with her head held high and her heart hammering in her chest.
Zoe showed up at Carrington Corp. the next morning twenty minutes early, determined to make a better second impression. She wore her cleanest white blouse, tailored gray slacks, and a pair of black pumps that pinched her toes but screamed hire me. Her hair was pinned neatly, and she had double-checked every document in her satchel.
She wouldnt let Damian Carrington see her flustered again. No chance.
Miss Bennett, Mr. Kelvin greeted her with a knowing smile at the reception. Youre early. Thats good. Mr. Carrington appreciates punctuality.
She nodded. I appreciate jobs.
He chuckled. Youll be working directly outside his office. Your desks already set up.
As Zoe followed him through the glossy, high-tech corridors of the executive floor, she could feel eyes on her sizing her up, whispering behind hands.
And then she met her.
Miss Lara.
A tall, red-lipped blonde in Louboutin heels and a blazer that cost more than Zoes entire closet. She leaned against a filing cabinet, arms folded, eyes scanning Zoe from head to toe like she was chewing her apart mentally.
Youre the new girl? Lara said sweetly.
Zoe smiled back. Unless theres another one hiding in a closet, yeah.
Lara gave a tight, unimpressed grin. Cute. Im Lara, Executive Analyst and senior assistant. If youre smart, youll stick to coffee runs and try not to embarrass yourself.
Zoe tilted her head. Thanks for the warm welcome. Anything else I should write down, or is that the full list of insults for the day?
Mr. Kelvin quickly stepped in before the tension escalated. Miss Bennett, your desk is this way.
Zoe sat down at the minimalist white desk just outside Damians glass office. She could see his silhouette through the frosted pane, tall, sharp, still as a sculpture.
Moments later, the office door opened.
He stepped out, eyes flicking to her like he was inspecting inventory.
Morning, he said.
Zoe stood. Good morning, Mr. Carrington.
Youre early. I like that. He handed her a printed list. Start with these tasks. By noon.
Zoe scanned the list and her eyes widened.
?Pick up custom-roast coffee from Grant & Bloom, three blocks away.
?Review and summarize 20 pages of financial reports.
?Arrange a conference call with Tokyo HQ.
?Schedule three back-to-back investor meetings.
? A handwritten thank-you note to a board member in Connecticut.
By noon?
She looked up. This was meant for a team, right?
His expression didnt change. No. But Im glad youre asking questions. Most people just panic.
Zoe straightened. Dont worry. I dont panic.
Lets see if that holds up.
11:54 a.m.
Zoe pushed the glass door open, nearly panting, her heels clicking fast.
She had the coffee, still hot. She had the summarized reports annotated and stapled. Shed set the calls, mailed the thank-you card, and even rescheduled the Tokyo conference for 9 p.m. EST.
As she placed everything neatly on Damians desk, he barely glanced at her.
Then he picked up the coffee.
Took a sip.
Paused.
Zoe held her breath.
I said oat milk. This is almond, he said coolly, setting it down.
Her stomach dropped. Ioh. The barista mustve misheard
No excuses, Miss Bennett. Attention to detail matters.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Understood.
He finally looked up at her, eyes unreadable. You did better than I expected.
Gee. Thanks.
His lips twitched. Again, that almost-smile. Youre not going to cry?
Nope.
Slam the door on your way out?
Nope.
Curse me under your breath?
Not yet.
He chuckled softly, then picked up the reports. Lets see how long that lasts.
Zoe turned and left, shoulders tense but her pride intact.
Because while Damian Carrington mightve thought he hired her to punish her she was going to show him that she was made of more than mud stains and bad luck.
She wasnt going to fall apart.
Not today.
The office was a ghost town by 7:48 p.m.
The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, and the skyline outside Carrington Tower glowed with a thousand windows and blinking aircraft lights. The only sounds were the distant hum of elevators and the soft tap of Zoes fingers on her keyboard.
She hadnt meant to stay this late. But just as she was packing up, Damians voice came from inside his office:
Miss Bennett, I need you to pull the quarter-three numbers from last years investor brief. The original file. Not the summary.
And of course, she wasnt about to say no.
So here she was, hours later, squinting at spreadsheets while her stomach growled in protest.
She stood and stretched, tiptoeing toward the small break room to microwave a leftover granola bar she found in her purse.
Still here? came a voice behind her.
Zoe jumped.
Damian leaned casually against the doorway, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened slightly. He looked far less CEO and far more human like this and somehow, that was even more intimidating.
You gave me extra work, she said, holding up the snack like evidence.
He glanced at the bar, smirking. Is that dinner?
Dont judge me. You pay me in stress, not food.
A surprised laugh escaped him, short, but real.
Zoe blinked. Was that a laugh, Mr. Carrington?
I didnt realize I wasnt allowed.
You dont exactly give off funny guy energy.
He stepped into the break room, walking past her to pour himself a glass of water. Thats not in my job description.
Neither is tormenting your assistant, and yet she trailed off, raising a brow.
Another smirk.
Most people are scared of me, he said suddenly.
Zoe looked at him. Yeah. I figured.
Youre not.
No, she replied simply. Youre not as scary as you think. Just prickly.
His eyes lingered on her then, something unreadable flickering behind the silver-blue. He set the glass down.
Before she could say anything else, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Thendarkness.
A loud thunk echoed down the hallway. The hum of the AC vanished.
Zoe stared into the shadows. What just happened?
Damians voice was calm. Power cut. Backup generator should kick in.
It didnt.
Instead, the emergency lights blinked on, dim and red.
Zoes phone buzzed. She pulled it out and groaned. No signal.
She looked at Damian. Is this your idea of a training exercise?
He glanced around, pulling his phone from his pocket. Elevators are offline too. Building securitys probably switching over to auxiliary systems.
And were locked in?
For now.
Zoe stared at him. Of course we are.
He stepped out into the hallway, and she followed. The silence was eerie. The city still buzzed outside, but inside the office, everything had stilled.
We might be here a while, he said, checking his watch.
I hope you dont expect me to keep working.
Damian looked at her over his shoulder. No. But I expect you not to panic.
Im not panicking, she said, crossing her arms. Are you panicking?
He gave her a dry look. Do I look like someone who panics?
Zoe leaned against the wall, folding her arms. So what do we do? Wait for a rescue team?
We wait for maintenance. And maybe, he said slowly, we talk like normal people.
She raised a brow. You? Talk like a normal person?
I do that occasionally.
There was a pause, strangely comfortable.
Zoe looked at him curiously. So why are you like this?
Like what?
Cold. Untouchable. Always frowning like the world owes you something.
His eyes darkened slightly. People disappoint. Money doesnt.
Thats sad.
Thats reality.
They stood there, silence thickening between them. Then he asked quietly:
Why do you want this job so badly, Zoe?
She hesitated. No sarcasm this time. Just truth.
Because I have something to prove. To myself. To the people who think girls like me dont belong in buildings like this. I want to make something of myself. From nothing.
Damian stared at her like he saw something he didnt expect.
A flicker of admiration.
Or maybe something else.
Then the lights snapped back on with a loud buzz.
Zoe let out a breath she didnt know shed been holding.
Looks like were free.
Damian nodded but didnt move.
Go home, he said, voice lower than before. Youve done enough.
She didnt thank him. She just walked past, pulse racing, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.
Zoe arrived at the office the next morning to find whispers following her like perfume.
Thats her, someone murmured near the elevators.
Did you hear? She was locked in with him last night.
They say shes close to the CEO.
Zoe kept walking, chin high, face unreadable exactly the way Tasha, her best friend, had coached her to act. She hadnt done anything wrong, but in a place like Carrington Corp., rumors were more dangerous than facts.
She settled at her desk outside Damians office and booted up her computer. But even as she tried to focus, she could feel Laras eyes drilling holes into the back of her head.
Moments later, Lara sauntered over, sipping an iced coffee with an overexaggerated smile.
Rough night? she asked sweetly.
Zoe didnt look away from her screen. Actually, I slept great. Thanks for asking.
Lara leaned closer. You might want to be careful, sweetheart. Girls who get too cozy with the boss usually fall harder when they get replaced.
Zoe finally looked up, her eyes sharp. You seem awfully interested in my downfall. Should I be flattered or concerned?
Laras smile faltered just enough. Just friendly advice.
Noted. And heres mine: try minding your own business. Its less exhausting.
Before Lara could respond, the elevator chimed.
And in walked a woman that made even Lara freeze mid-step.
Vanessa Sinclair.
She was perfection in a crimson designer dress and matching heels, with waves of golden hair cascading down her shoulders. Her lipstick was bold, her expression bolder, and the air around her chilled at least ten degrees.
Her eyes landed on Zoe immediately.
Who is that? she asked Mr. Kelvin, her voice smooth as velvet and just as dangerous.
Mr. Kelvin cleared his throat. Thats Zoe Bennett. Mr. Carringtons new assistant.
Vanessa tilted her head. Assistant, hmm?
Then, without breaking her confident stride, she walked straight past Zoes desk and into Damians office without knocking.
Zoe blinked.
Do people just walk into his office like that? she asked Kelvin.
Only one, he said. That one.
Inside the office, Vanessa closed the door behind her with a sharp click.
Damian, she purred.
He looked up from his desk, eyebrows arching. Vanessa. This is a surprise.
Is it? She moved closer, placing a slim hand on his desk. You havent answered my texts. Or my mothers invitation to dinner.
Ive been busy.
With the help?
His eyes narrowed just slightly. If you mean my assistant, I hired her based on skill, not pedigree.
Vanessa smiled, but her tone turned icy. Im sure. You know your mother wont like this.
Damian stood, closing the file in front of him. My mother likes power. And right now, Carrington Corp. doesnt need another dinner party with your fathers political donors.
Her eyes flashed. So youre canceling the engagement?
I never agreed to it.
She stepped closer. You may not have. But our families did. And what they agree to usually happens.
There was a long, tense silence.
Then Damian said coldly, I dont make decisions based on pressure. Or gossip. And I certainly dont owe you an explanation about who I hire.
Vanessa straightened her back. Fine. But dont say I didnt warn you.
She turned on her heel and stormed out, heels echoing like gunshots down the marble floor.
And as she passed Zoes desk, she paused just long enough to flash a tight, elegant smile.
Nice blouse. Did they pull that from accountings lost-and-found?
Zoe smiled back, cool and unfazed. Nope. I bought it. Unlike some people, I work for what I wear.
Vanessas eyes narrowed.
But she said nothing and walked away, her perfume trailing behind her like poison in the air.
Zoe wasnt na?ve. She knew the moment Vanessa Sinclair walked into Carrington Corp., things wouldnt be the same.
What she didnt expect was how fast the claws would come out.
It started subtly.
Her desk chair suddenly missing one wheel.
An email mysteriously unsent though she swore shed hit Send.
Her name accidentally left out of the staff lunch invite.
And her copy of the investor briefing? Replaced with a dummy file.
But the final straw came when she walked into a department meeting only to realize the presentation she had stayed up all night preparing had been swapped with a file full of errors.
And it had her name on it.
Damian sat at the head of the boardroom, expression unreadable as the first few slides flicked on the large screen. Confused graphs. Outdated numbers. Spelling mistakes Zoe knew she didnt make.
Whispers stirred around the long table.
Zoes chest tightened.
II dont know how this happened, she said, trying to keep her voice calm. These arent the slides I uploaded.
Lara smirked from across the room. Vanessa, seated by special invitation, of course didnt even bother to hide her amusement.
Damian said nothing at first. He simply closed his tablet and stood.
Meetings over, he said coolly.
The room emptied faster than a fire drill.
Zoe stood there, stunned. Embarrassed. Angry.
She gathered her notes with trembling hands, trying not to let anyone see her face.
Before she could slip out, Damians voice stopped her.
Miss Bennett. My office.
She followed him upstairs in silence, her heart in her throat. Once inside, the door clicked shut behind them.
Damian didnt sit. He stood near the windows, arms crossed, back to her.
That presentation, he said, was a disaster.
I know. But I swear, those werent my slides. Someone tampered with
Who?
She hesitated. She had no proof. Just gut feelings, and one too many icy smiles from Vanessa and Lara.
I dont know, she admitted.
Then dont make accusations.
Zoe stiffened. Im not making excuses. I stayed up all night on this. You know I wouldnt be that careless.
Damian turned slowly, his gaze locking onto hers.
I also know this company is full of people who want to see you fail. Youre not the first to walk into a war zone without armor.
Zoe blinked. That almost sounded like concern.
So you believe me?
His jaw clenched. I didnt say that.
Her eyes narrowed. No, you didnt. You also didnt stand up for me in that meeting.
He stepped closer. And what would you have preferred? That I fire someone based on instinct?
No, she said quietly. I just wanted to know you had my back.
The room went still.
He looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then
You have two days. Redo the report. Present it again. This time, triple-check everything.
And if it gets tampered with again?
His voice hardened. Then youll prove it.
Zoe bit her lip. Right.
She turned to leave, her hand on the door handle.
But Zoe, Damian said, stopping her.
She turned.
I do notice when someones lying, he said. And you werent.
Her chest tightened, just a little.
She nodded, then stepped out.
Down the hallway, Vanessa leaned against a pillar, arms folded. Lara was beside her, trying not to grin.
Shes shaken, Lara whispered.
Shes predictable, Vanessa replied coldly. Next time, we wont just embarrass her. Well eliminate her.
By the time Zoe got home that evening, she was exhausted but wired. The events of the day played on a loop in her mind, taunting her with every detail.
She threw her heels across the room and collapsed onto the couch, pulling out her phone to call the one person who always talked her off the ledge.
Tasha, Im gonna lose it.
Her best friends voice came through the speaker, calm but fierce. Tell me who to fight and where to meet them.
Zoe let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. The presentation was sabotaged. In front of everyone. I was humiliated.
And youre sure someone switched it?
Positive. I checked it five times last night. The file they used was a butchered mess.
Then someones setting you up, Zo. You need to find proof. Dont just defend, expose.
Zoes eyes narrowed. Youre right. No more playing nice.
Tashas voice softened. And if Carrington doesnt believe you
Zoes silence said everything.
The next morning
Zoe arrived earlier than usual. She didnt greet anyone. Didnt smile. She went straight to her desk and got to work. This time, she backed up everything she touched, twice. Email logs. File versions. External drive backups. She even set up an auto-recording macro to track every change made on her terminal.
If someone tried to mess with her again, shed catch them red-handed.
Halfway through her prep, a soft knock sounded on her desk.
It was Mr. Kelvin.
Hey, he said gently, glancing around before lowering his voice. I wasnt supposed to say anything. But I saw Lara printing documents from your file folder yesterday afternoon. Said Mr. Carrington requested them.
Zoes stomach dropped. He didnt.
Kelvin nodded. Thought so. I checked the request ID later, it was a dummy tag. Someones trying to frame you.
Zoe sat back in her chair, fists clenched. Why are you telling me this?
Kelvin shrugged. Because you dont deserve whats happening. And youre the first assistant that hasnt looked down on me.
Zoe smiled, warmth breaking through the cold. Thank you.
He leaned in one last time. If you want to catch them, check the print logs on Floor 11. Security archives everything. Even sneak jobs.
Later that day, Zoe rode the elevator up to Floor 11 like a woman on a mission. She passed HR, rounded the corner, and slipped into the printing hub.
Ten minutes. Thats all it took.
She found Laras login ID stamped on a document batch matching her presentation file dated the day before the meeting.
Bingo.
She copied the log file onto a USB drive and tucked it into her coat.
That evening, Zoe entered Damians office unannounced. He looked up from his laptop, surprised.
I have proof, she said, walking straight to his desk.
Of?
My presentation was sabotaged. And it wasnt a mistake.
She plugged in the USB and opened the files showing timestamps, document trails, and Laras user ID.
Damian leaned in, silent as he scrolled through the evidence. His brows drew together, and his jaw tightened.
When he looked up at her, the cold mask had cracked.
You really went through all this trouble?
I had to, she said simply. Because I knew no one else would believe me.
His gaze lingered on her longer than it should have. Youre impressive when youre angry.
She rolled her eyes. Dont flirt with me when Im holding receipts.
That earned a rare, honest chuckle.
Dont worry, he said, straightening. Ill handle this.
Zoe nodded and turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
Zoe.
She turned.
His eyes softened, just a little. Youve got more grit than most people on this floor.
For once, she didnt deflect.
Thanks, she said quietly. And Im not done yet.
Meanwhile
Vanessa stood in Laras apartment, sipping red wine as Lara paced anxiously.
I told you it would work, Lara said. But that girls like a cockroach. She keeps coming back.
Vanessas smile didnt reach her eyes. Then well just step on her harder.
She turned toward the window, her reflection glowing against the glass.
Lets see how Damian reacts when he finds out shes not as innocent as she seems.
The next morning, tension hummed through the walls of Carrington Corp.
Damian stood at the center of the executive conference room, arms folded, his eyes locked on Lara who suddenly looked much smaller than her usual high-heeled confidence.
You accessed a file from my assistants drive, he said, voice low and sharp. Without permission.
Lara cleared her throat. II thought you asked me to
I didnt, he cut in. And forging a system request? Thats a serious offense.
Sir, I swear, it was just a misunderstanding
He raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
This is a multi-billion-dollar firm, not a playground. You dont get to sabotage people here and expect a promotion.
Laras face flushed with humiliation, her lip trembling.
I trusted you, Damian continued, voice clipped. But clearly, that trust was misplaced.
Then he turned to Zoe, who stood quietly at the edge of the room.
Miss Bennett. You were right to defend yourself. I apologize for doubting you.
Zoe blinked. The room was silent.
Did Damian Carrington just say the word apologize?
Lara stormed out, heels clacking like gunfire on the polished floor.
Zoe looked at Damian. Thank you.
He gave a single nod. Were not finished.
Later that day
Zoe sat in the break room with a glass of water, finally letting herself breathe for the first time in days.
She felt like shed won a battle.
But just as she reached for her phone, a notification popped up.
A message from an unknown number:
Sloppy girls get sloppy endings. You wont survive the next round.
Her heart sank.
Zoe didnt need three guesses to know who sent it.
Meanwhile, across Manhattan
Vanessa sat at an exclusive salon, a glass of champagne in hand, as a tablet sat open in front of her. On screen was a series of photos grainy, but clear enough.
Zoe. Damian. In the elevator. Talking. Smiling. His hand brushing her shoulder.
Vanessa tapped a folder labeled CONFIDENTIAL and opened a document with Zoes personal records, old college reports, social media screenshots, and even images from her previous internships.
A thin smile spread across her lips.
You want war? she whispered to herself. Lets see how the world reacts when they think you slept your way into a job.
She sent the email draft to her PR contact with a click.
Subject line:
Leaked: Carrington CEOs New Flame Ex-Intern with a History of Climbing Her Way Up.
Back at Carrington Corp., Zoe walked out of the elevator into sudden silence.
Eyes were on her. Phones were out. A few people stared at their screens and quickly looked away when she passed.
Her stomach churned.
She reached her desk and froze.
An envelope lay there. No name. Just a single printed sheet inside.
She opened it with trembling hands.
It was the email leak.
With her name. Her face.
And the headline:
Sleeping Her Way to the Top?
Zoes knees buckled slightly as she sat down, breath shallow.
Then Damians door opened.
He held a tablet in his hand. His jaw was tight. His eyes unreadable.
Zoe, he said. Come in. Now.
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