The Beginning Of My Hell.

The moment I stepped into the office, my breath caught in my throat.

I had been nervous enough about my first day, but nothing—absolutely nothing could have prepared me for this. Standing by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at the city like he owned it, was the last person, the jerk from yesterday I least expected to see.

Martin Knight. The man I had spilled coffee on. The man I had snapped at. The man I had thought was just some arrogant businessman grabbing a cup of coffee was now my boss.

My legs nearly gave out from under me. No way. This has to be a mistake but as he turned around, slowly, deliberately, his icy blue eyes locking onto mine, the truth hit me like a freight train. He knew exactly who I was.

There was no amusement on his face, no smirk, no indication that he found this situation remotely funny. Instead, his expression was blank, cold and unreadable.

My first instinct was to turn around and walk right back out. This is not going to work. He is going to make my life hell. The pay was good, insanely good—but was it worth being constantly humiliated by this man?

At that moment, I thought about my rent. My bills. The job I had not even bothered to resign from. Five thousand dollars! I swallowed hard. f**k it. What is the worst he can do?

Gathering the little courage I had left, I stepped forward, trying to mask my hesitation. "Mr. Knight, I—"

"Who said you could speak?" His voice cutting me off sliced through the air like a whip, making me freeze in place. It was sharp, authoritative, with a deep, commanding edge that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I blinked, momentarily stunned.

My first instinct was to snap back. Excuse me? Who the hell does he think he is? But the weight of that five thousand dollar paycheck was heavy on my mind. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to stay quiet.

Martin tilted his head slightly, observing me with those piercing blue eyes, as if waiting to see if I would disobey him. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, just when I thought I could not take it anymore, he moved.

He walked toward his desk—slow, controlled steps that oozed power and precision. He was effortlessly commanding, dressed in a tailored black suit that fit his body like a second skin. Everything about him screamed wealth—his chiseled jaw, his perfectly styled dark hair, his unwavering confidence and then my eyes landed on his lips.

Those lips!

I had always thought Ryan’s lips were attractive, full, and soft. The kind of lips that made you want to lean in for more. But Martin’s lips? They were something else entirely. They were full, yes, but with a sharp edge to them, as though they had been sculpted by a master. They held a sense of dominance, a dangerous allure. The lines were perfectly defined, and I couldn’t help but imagine how they might feel pressing against my skin. My n*****s exactly. The thought made my pulse spike, and I had to look away before my body betrayed me.

What the hell is wrong with me? I hated myself even more for thinking about it.

Martin finally picked up a sleek black folder from his desk and walked back over to me, standing so close that I could smell his expensive cologne—a mix of woodsy spice and something darkly intoxicating. He held out the folder without a word.

I hesitated before taking it, my fingers brushing against his for half a second. His skin was warm, but his presence was ice cold.

"Everything you need to know about your job is in there," he said flatly. "Your duties, expectations, company policies. Read it, memorize it. As of today, you will be here on time, no exceptions." Then his gaze darkened. "You do know what it means to be an assistant, do you not?" he asked.

I nodded quickly and answered with my tone low but clear, gripping the folder tightly. "Yes, I do, sir."

"I do not tolerate incompetence," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "I do not tolerate excuses and I absolutely do not tolerate lateness."

Jesus, is he running a company or a military camp? I thought to myself.

"Understood?" he asked.

I swallowed, feeling a mix of irritation and admiration. "Yes, sir."

For a second, his lips twitched, like he had not expected me to say that, but the expression vanished as quickly as it had come.

"Good," he said. "Now, go downstairs to the reception. They will tell you where your office is."

I frowned my brows but nodded. "Yes sir," I said, turning to leave.

Just as I reached the door, his voice rang out again, stopping me in my tracks. "And Miss Martins," he said smoothly.

I turned back, trying to keep my face neutral. "Yes?"

"Once you have seen your office, return here immediately. Your next assignment awaits."

My fingers curled around the folder. Of course he is not even going to give me five minutes to breathe.

"Understood," I said as evenly as I could before stepping out.

The moment I stepped into the elevator, I let out a heavy breath I had not even realized I was holding. What the hell was that? My mind was spinning as the elevator descended, replaying the interaction over and over again. He had ignored what had happened at the coffee shop like it was nothing. No mention of it, no smug remarks, nothing and yet, he knew. I could see it in the way he looked at me. Like he planned it, but too damn prideful to acknowledge it.

The elevator dinged, and I stepped out into the sleek, polished lobby. The soft hum of the building enveloped me, the floor gleaming beneath my feet. I had to admit, the entire place screamed power—cold, immaculate, and intimidating. I felt small walking through it, trying to keep my shoulders back and my mind focused, but the nerves were still there, gnawing at me.

I quickly spotted the receptionist desk on the far side of the lobby. It was a bright, open space, with sleek, minimalist furniture and towering plants that added a touch of life to the otherwise sterile surroundings. As I walked toward the desk, I tried to shake the unease that crept up my spine. It was only my first day, and yet it already felt like there was so much to prove.

The receptionist, a lady in a professional black dress, was focused on something on her computer screen, but she looked up as I approached, offering a warm smile. Damn! She was so pretty that it almost made me puke.

"Hello," she greeted, her tone polite but with a hint of practiced charm. "How can I help you?"

"I’m here to check on my office as to where it’s located," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but I wasn’t about to come off as clueless on my first day.

"Ah, yes," she replied, nodding. "Miss Martins, correct?"

I nodded in return, a little caught off guard by her accuracy. "Yes, that’s me."

She typed something into her computer, her fingers quick and sure. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her lips, as if she already knew exactly who I was. The moment dragged on longer than it should have, the click of her keyboard sounding louder than it should in the otherwise quiet lobby.

"Your office has already been assigned," she said with a polite smile, looking up at me again. I was expecting something a bit more impersonal, but there was a glint in her eyes that made me think she knew exactly what I was walking into.

I tried to mask my curiosity, but I couldn’t help leaning in slightly. "Where is it?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

She glanced down at her screen, tapping a few more keys before glancing back up at me. "It’s right next to Mr. Knight’s office."

I froze for a split second, my heart sinking. Right next to his office?

The words echoed in my mind, and I felt a flush of frustration spread through me. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but certainly not this. I had just come from that damn office a few minutes ago, standing there like an i***t, trying not to stammer under his cold stare. Now, I was supposed to work right next to him? Was he really that determined to make me feel uncomfortable from the start?

I wanted to say something, to ask why the hell he couldn’t just tell me this himself instead of sending me all the way back down here, but I forced the words back down. I didn’t want to come off as rude or ungrateful on my first day, but everything about this felt like a game—one where I was already losing.

"Thank you," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "I appreciate it."

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to march back up there and call him out on his bullshit, but I knew better. He was testing me. This man is going to make my life a living hell and worse? I was starting to think I might actually like it.

With a quick nod, I turned and began walking down towards the elevator, my mind already spinning. I could feel the weight of the frustration settle deep in my chest. He could have told me himself. Why make me go back down?

I knew the answer, of course. It was just another test, another way for him to assert control. I had no illusions about this job now. It wasn’t just about getting things done—it was about proving myself. And right now, I was already failing.

I went back into the elevator, up to the top floor, pushed open the door and walked down the hallway toward my new office, the frustration only growing as each step took me closer to the inevitable realization that I was going to have to deal with him and his dominance up close every single day before realizing I still have another assignment waiting at his office.