POV: Elara Quinn
Elara's stomach plummeted the moment she stepped into the final interview room.
There he was. Him.
The man from the car. The one who had haunted her thoughts ever since that rainy morning. The arrogant, infuriating man whose presence made her pulse spike and her jaw tighten simultaneously. And now… he was sitting behind a massive, imposing desk, waiting for her with his other hiring team members.
Her hands tightened around the folder in her lap. She had prepared for this, rehearsed answers to every possible scenario, and memorized key points about multitasking and problem-solving. She had walked miles in heels to prove herself. And yet, in that moment, all she could think was, why is he here? Why me?
He looked up, his dark eyes sweeping over her with that same piercing calculation she had come to loathe. A small, infuriating smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, like he knew exactly the effect he had on her.
Elara straightened her spine, glaring at him. I will not be intimidated. I will not.
"Ms. Quinn," he said, voice smooth, controlled, deliberately even. "Please, sit down."
She did, but not without a sharp glance. "You're… friendly," she said, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sitting there, smiling like some kind of golden retriever waiting for approval." not minding the other hiring team members dotted there and looking at her like she just signed a death sentence.
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not here to amuse you."
"Good," she snapped, crossing her arms. "Because I'm not here to be amused. Or to make friends. Or to… whatever it is you think you're doing."
The smirk disappeared, replaced by a faint frown that somehow made her irritation spike further. He's calm. Too calm. That annoys me more than his smug face ever could.
"Very well," he said smoothly. "Let's begin. Why do you think you're qualified for this position?"
Elara leaned forward slightly, not intimidated in the slightest. "Because I have the experience needed for this job. I've handled responsibilities bigger than this; I adapt quickly. She whispered, "and I don't waste time with pretenses," because she believes that his pretending to be nice, he is never nice.
He tilted his head, watching her like she were a puzzle he hadn't solved yet. "And you expect that to impress me?"
She blinked, incredulous. "Excuse me?"
"You expect this attitude and your list of skills or experience to win me over? That's charming, I suppose. But I'm not easily impressed."
Elara's lips pressed into a thin line. Her temper flared like a fuse lit in her chest. "Well, you're lucky, because impressing you isn't my goal. My goal is to do my job well. If you want someone to grovel and smile politely, you'll have to keep looking."
She cautioned herself in her head, saying, "What are you doing? Remember, you need this job." But then again, she thought, "I won't let him humiliate me again."
He leaned back in his chair, studying her with that unnervingly calm gaze. "Direct. Bold. Reckless, maybe."
"And what's wrong with that?" she shot back, unable to help herself. "You seem to have a problem with people who say what they mean. Maybe that's why everyone else is so boring in this city, they're afraid of offending you."
His jaw tightened slightly, a movement so subtle most would miss it, but not her. She noticed everything: the sharp line of his cheek, the faint furrow in his brow, the way his eyes never left hers. Why do I feel like he's analyzing me like some lab rat?
"You're persistent," he finally said, voice low. "I'll give you that. Most people would have wilted under my gaze by now."
"And what makes you think I care about your gaze?" she shot back, looking him straight in the eyes, unable to contain the heat rising through her. "I don't care about your judgment, your opinions, or your little… tests. I came here for the job. Not to entertain whatever power trip you're on!"
He sat forward, hands resting on the desk, his gaze sharper than a blade. "Careful, Ms. Quinn. You don't want to regret this later…persistence can be admirable or dangerous. Depends on who's measuring it."
She laughed, a short, bitter laugh. "And I suppose that's you. The great, infallible judge of persistence and danger."
He didn't flinch. Didn't smile. He just studied her silently, a storm of calculation and quiet authority radiating from him in waves.
Elara's chest heaved. She was irritated, flustered, but strangely… alert. She hated that she felt like this. Why does he make me feel like I'm on the edge? I'm not supposed to be impressed. I'm not supposed to care.
He stood abruptly, smooth and commanding, and she instinctively straightened, though her hands trembled slightly on her lap. "You have the spirit," he said. "I'll give you that. But spirit alone doesn't secure a position. Competence does. Discipline does. Obedience does. " And I must say I am not impressed," Kaelion said, voice low, commanding. "And frankly, Ms. Quinn, I don't think you're suitable for this position."
"Not suitable? But I am competent, disciplined, and obedient," she said, voice steady despite the heat coursing through her. "You mean I don't fit into your narrow idea of what someone should be. I'm here to work. To prove I can do the job. And clearly, you've underestimated me."
She added, when he didn't say anything, with her voice almost breaking, "Does that mean I'm not hired?"
He smiled faintly, sharp and cold. "Perhaps."
Her jaw tightened, but her expression didn't change. "Noted," she said firmly. "I don't need anyone's permission to prove myself."
Her stomach twisted. I can't… I won't let him intimidate me. Not here. Not ever.
The assistant, who had been hovering near the doorway, cleared his throat. "Ms. Quinn, your final interview is over."
Elara froze. What Over?
Her heart sank. She thought maybe she would get this job and survive the hardship of life, but that dream has been crushed even before it started, and it's all his fault. Things always go sour for her whenever she encounters him. She thought to herself, "What bad luck!" She promised herself she would never have to face him again.
She took a deep breath, gripping her folder like a weapon. "Alright," she said through clenched teeth. "Thank you for having me."
As she walked toward the door, her mind raced. I will not falter. I will not be intimidated. And I will not let him get the better of me.
The door opened, and she stepped outside.
And it's down on her.
She has lost this again, and she feels sad. She wondered why he was there, sitting in that seat, as if he were the boss or owned the company. Then realization hits her as her pulse hammers. Her chest tightened. Her hands shook slightly. And in the quiet, empty hallway, she realized something chilling:
She had no idea that this arrogant, infuriating, impossible man was the boss.
Elara's heart beat so fast, how could she…how could she not be sharp and calculating, she could have known and not let her anger take the better judgment because of this encounter, she's lost everything: her job, her pride, because soon she might go back to living on the streets and perhaps even her future.
She also recalled him saying, "She has inconveniently drawn his attention… What does that even mean?" She whispered to herself.
"Whatever, he didn't give me the job anyway, what a wicked man." She sighed softly.
But she didn't know how high the stakes were… or how what next was coming to her.