Why don't you lock the door first?

A thick, leather-bound portfolio hit the polished mahogany desk with a deafening crack.

"Eleven." Vaughan Sterling leaned forward, pressing his knuckles into the dark wood. His gaze locked onto his HR manager with predatory stillness. "That is the exact number of incompetent fools you have paraded through my office in the last thirty days, Preston. Fix it."

Preston swallowed hard. He kept his eyes glued to the pristine edge of the desk, not daring to meet his boss's stare. "I apologize, Mr. President. I will secure a new assistant for you within two weeks."

Vaughan rose from his custom swivel chair. His imposing figure cast a long, intimidating shadow across the executive suite. "Are you truly this incapable? If you cannot put a competent assistant outside my door right now, you should start drafting your own resignation letter."

The command hung in the freezing air of the office. Vaughan exuded absolute authority.

"I will get on it right away, Mr. President." Preston scurried out of the room, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Vaughan turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, running a hand through his dark hair. The sheer incompetence of his staff was exhausting. He had already fired forty-seven assistants in the first quarter of the year alone. None of them could match his pace. None of them could meet his standards.

Down the hall, Preston practically collapsed into his own desk chair. He grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the cold sweat beading on his forehead. He could not delegate this disaster to his subordinates. His own career was on the chopping block. The people he had hired for Vaughan Sterling were supposed to be the best in the industry, armed with flawless resumes and years of experience. But working for Vaughan was like trying to juggle active grenades. The man demanded extreme perfection and offered zero margin for error.

Preston frantically clicked through the digital records of his recent interviews. He had whittled the final pool down to three qualified applicants. Two men and one woman. Vaughan harbored zero tolerance for female assistants, viewing them as a distraction or an inevitable HR liability. Knowing this, Preston had hired one of the male candidates.

That man had been fired on his first day.

Preston dialed the number of the second male applicant. The line rang busy. Panic setting in, he shot off an urgent email and stared at his screen. It was Friday afternoon. If Vaughan wanted a replacement immediately, Preston could beg him to wait until Monday morning. In the meantime, he would post a massive premium listing for a permanent male assistant. But right now, he needed a temporary shield to save his own job. He needed the female applicant.

Preston picked up his office phone and dialed Sienna Frost.

The call connected on the second ring.

"Sienna Frost speaking, how may I help you?" Her voice was calm and pleasant, cutting through the frantic noise of a busy bullpen.

Sienna balanced the phone between her ear and her shoulder. Her right hand flew across her keyboard as she finalized a spreadsheet.

"My name is Preston Ward, the HR Manager of Sterling Global."

Sienna paused her typing. She remembered Preston Ward from her rigorous panel interview a few days ago. She had expected to hear back from an assistant or a junior recruiter. Getting a direct call from the department head made her pulse jump.

"I am glad to hear from you, Mr. Ward. To what do I owe this call?" She kept her tone polite and even.

"First and foremost, congratulations. You have secured the position of personal assistant to the director of Sterling Global. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, you will be temporarily reassigned to assist the President until we secure him a permanent replacement."

Sienna felt a rush of adrenaline. She had endured countless grueling interviews this past month. A few companies had extended offers, but nothing compared to this. Sterling Global was a titan in the mining and resource industry. Landing a role there was a golden ticket.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ward. I look forward to reviewing the contract."

Preston cleared his throat. "Before I have the legal team prepare your paperwork, I need to know if you can begin work this coming Monday."

Sienna blinked at her glowing monitor. Her current job was a nightmare, but abandoning it with zero notice violated every professional ethic she held.

"I am sorry, Mr. Ward, but Monday is far too short of a timeline. I will need to give my current employer at least two weeks' notice."

Preston gripped his phone tighter. He could not confess that his own neck was on the line if she said no. He had to gamble.

"I understand your position, Ms. Frost. I will give you a little time to think about it. However, if you can accommodate this Monday start date, your remuneration package will be heavily adjusted to reflect the urgency."

The mention of a massive pay bump sent a jolt straight to Sienna's core. Money was not just a luxury right now. It was the only thing standing between her family and total ruin.

"I will give it serious thought. Goodbye, Mr. Ward."

Sienna hung up the phone and leaned back in her cheap office chair. She had only been at this current company for three weeks. That was actually a record for her first quarter. She had bounced through at least six jobs since January, either getting fired for refusing inappropriate demands or resigning when the toxicity became unbearable. A stint at Sterling Global, even a temporary one under the President, would transform her resume.

More importantly, she needed that adjusted remuneration. The crushing weight of her brother's medical care in California and her mother's desperate struggle to keep a roof over their heads haunted her every waking second.

She needed a sounding board. She needed Ryker.

A genuine smile finally touched her lips as she dialed her best friend's number. Ryker always knew how to untangle her messy thoughts. He was her anchor.

The line connected.

"Hey Sienna, Ryker is busy right now."

The smile fell from Sienna's face. The high-pitched, breezy voice of Vivienne echoed in her ear. A familiar, suffocating disappointment clamped down on her chest. Ryker was the only person in the city she trusted, the only man she secretly wished she could claim. But Vivienne was the one holding his phone. Vivienne was the one in his apartment.

"I can tell, Vivienne." Sienna forced her voice to remain steady, hiding the sharp sting of rejection.

She ended the call and tossed her phone onto her messy desk. She stared blankly at a towering stack of expense reports, trying to shove her unrequited feelings back into the dark corner where they belonged. She could not afford to cry over a man when her family was drowning in medical debt.

The harsh buzz of her desk intercom shattered her thoughts.

"Come to my office right now, Sienna."

The angry, guttural snarl made her flinch. She dropped her pen, smoothed down her sensible pencil skirt, and hurried across the open floor plan toward the department head's suite.

Sienna pushed the heavy glass door open and stepped inside. "Mr. Langdon, is there a problem?" She forced the words out between shallow breaths, her heart racing from the quick sprint down the hall.

Mr. Langdon lounged in his oversized executive chair. A dark, displeased scowl twisted his otherwise handsome features.

"I should be asking you that question." He let the silence drag out, letting the heavy corporate tension fill the room.

"I do not understand, sir."

Langdon waved a hand toward the single visitor's chair. "Sit down."

Sienna remained standing, keeping a safe distance.

Langdon dropped his hand to his desk. "I noticed that every single member of this department worked late yesterday to meet the deadline for the upcoming awards night. Everyone except you. What exactly do you have to say for yourself?"

Sienna squared her shoulders. "I managed my time efficiently and finished my required workload before five o'clock. Besides, I do not work unpaid overtime." Her voice was steady, laced with a quiet defiance.

Langdon scoffed, leaning forward. "Such a terrible attitude. How far do you honestly think you can go in this industry if you continue behaving like a clock-watcher?"

A hot flash of anger hit Sienna's chest. She had spent the last three weeks dodging this man's lingering stares and inappropriate comments. She had learned the hard way that the best way to handle her temper was simply to walk away.

"Can I leave now? I have a substantial amount of filing left to do."

Sienna turned on her heel and reached for the silver door handle.

A heavy hand slammed against the wood right above her head. Langdon had crossed the room with shocking speed. He boxed her in, his body blocking her only exit.

"In case you neglected to read the fine print of your contract, mandatory overtime is required whenever the department needs it." He spoke softly, his breath brushing the top of her hair.

The color drained from Sienna's face. Most standard employment contracts contained generic clauses, but she had never seen one weaponized like this.

"I did not see that clause." She spoke the truth, her voice tight.

A triumphant smirk spread across Langdon's face. He took a deliberate half-step closer, trapping her between his chest and the solid door.

"Then I suppose we can work something out."

Sienna pressed her back against the cool wood, her skin crawling. "What do you mean?"

Langdon tilted his head, his eyes roaming over her face with sickening familiarity. "I know all about your dearest brother's deteriorating condition out in California. I know exactly how your poor mother spends every waking hour trying to keep him alive. I also know all the gruesome details about your father's tragedy, even though the worthless bastard is better off dead."

Pure dread boiled over into explosive fury. Sienna shoved her hands against his chest, trying to put distance between them.

"Do not ever talk about my father like that. You have no right."

Langdon did not budge. He absorbed her push with a dark chuckle. "I am simply reminding you of exactly why you need this paycheck, Sienna. You cannot afford to lose this job. And lucky for you, I have a very specific task in mind if you want to keep it."

Sienna's stomach churned. The oppressive air in the room felt toxic.

"What task?"

Langdon's gaze dropped down her throat, settling on the top button of her blouse. His grin widened into something predatory and vile.

"Why don't you lock the door first?"