تسجيل الدخولAria’s POV
1... 2... 3... I counted the floors ticking by, my thumb digging into the strap of my duffel bag. I can’t believe I actually took this job. No. Not a job. A cage with a $50M lock. The elevator dinged. Halfway there. My stomach was already turning I couldn’t wait to get to the 30th floor. Finally. 30. The doors slid open and I stepped out on shaky legs. The hallway hit me first. Marble. Gold trim. Ceiling so high I felt like an ant. This wasn’t a floor. It was a palace. What the hell did their apartment look like? I checked the address on my phone. Again. 30B. I’d checked it a thousand times before I even got in the cab. A thousand times in the lobby. And I was still convinced I had the wrong place. Because girls like me don’t end up in places like this. Unless they’re in trouble. I raised my hand. It shook. I rang the doorbell. One second. Two. The door ripped open so fast I jumped back. Luca Kane. He leaned against the frame, sleeves rolled up, top two buttons undone like he’d been waiting for me. His eyes dragged down my body, then back up to my face. Slow. Like he owned whatever he looked at. “Well,” he purred, his lips curving. “Come in sweetheart.” My duffel bag slipped from my fingers and hit the marble with a thud. I forced an awkward smile. My cheeks were on fire. I dropped to grab my bag, my fingers fumbling. “Excuse me,” I mumbled, gesturing for him to move. He did. Barely. Just enough for his arm to brush mine as I squeezed past. Heat shot up my shoulder. I pretended not to notice. He definitely noticed. “I’ll show you to your room,” he said, his voice already at my back. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. I was too busy trying not to gawk at the apartment. It wasn’t an apartment. It was a kingdom. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A chandelier that probably cost more than everything I owned. We walked past door after door. Office. Gym. What looked like a theater. How many rooms did four men need? Finally, he stopped. Pushed open a door. I stepped in after him and my breath caught. The room was... unreal. King bed. Silk sheets. A balcony overlooking the entire city. It looked like something from a magazine. From a life I’d never get to live. Luca waved a hand, lazy and arrogant. “Well? What do you think?” I wrapped my arms around myself. I felt dirty just standing on the rug. Like my thrift-store duffel bag would infect the place. “It’s...” My voice cracked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” A lie. The truth was: I’m terrified to sleep here. Because if I do, this becomes real. He studied me. For a second, the Playboy mask slipped. Something softer flickered in his eyes. “I picked it out.” His voice was quieter now. “I wanted you to feel at home.” My chest tightened. He was the nicest one. Which probably made him the most dangerous. “Where are the others?” I asked, desperate to break the moment. “Office. Emergency meeting.” He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. That stupid, sinful smirk was back. “I volunteered to welcome you. Seeing as my brothers have the social skills of a clam.” A snort escaped me before I could stop it. I clapped a hand over my mouth. Luca’s eyes lit up. “See? I knew you’d get my humor.” Heat crawled up my neck. I stared at the floor. “I’m making dinner before the cavemen get back,” he said, pushing off the door. “Freshen up. Join us when you’re ready.” He paused in the doorway. His gaze dropped to my lips for half a second. Then he was gone. The door clicked shut. And I finally exhaled. I scrubbed that thought out of my head with hot water and cheap shampoo. Ten minutes later I was dressed in the only nice outfit I owned — black jeans, soft sweater. Armor. Now I had to find Luca. And dinner. The penthouse was a maze. I followed the low murmur of voices, my bare feet silent on the marble. My heart was in my throat. I found them in the kitchen. All four. Damian. Luca. Elias. Noah. Tall. Broad. Suits off, sleeves rolled up, ties loosened. They looked like sin dressed in cashmere. And all four conversations died the second I stepped into the doorway. Four pairs of eyes hit me at once. I felt naked. “Hi,” I managed, lifting a hand in the world’s most awkward wave. Silence. Luca broke it first. Of course he did. His smile was slow, deliberate. The kind of smile that made stupid girls do stupid things. “How nice of you to join us, sweetheart.” Before I could answer, Damian cut in. His voice was steel. “Sit.” It wasn’t a request. I slid into the nearest chair like my legs weren’t working. The scrape of wood on marble sounded like a gunshot. They all sat. One by one. Surrounding me. Damian is at the head of the table. Luca to my left, too close. Elias across from me, is silent. Noah was at the far end, watching everything. Damian steepled his fingers. CEO mode. “If you’re living with us, we need house rules.” The word if made my blood run cold. Like I had a choice. His gray eyes locked on mine. “Rule one.”Damian’s POV I’m pacing. Four steps to the window. Four steps back. The glass of whiskey on my desk is untouched. The merger file sits in my hands like a prop. I’ve read it three times already, but haven’t absorbed a word. I pick up the whiskey, needing something to do with my hands. And then I hear a knock. “Come in.” I already know it’s her. No one in this house knocks. The door opens. Aria steps inside. Hair down, in Soft shirt and old Pants that are too casual for a boardroom and too familiar for my bedroom. I force my eyes back to the file. If I look too long, she’ll see it. “Sir, what would you like me to do?” Her voice is careful, keeping it Professional. It should cool me down. But It doesn’t. Because do is a dangerous word when she’s standing in my room at night and I’ve been thinking about her thigh under my hand for the last hour. This was a mistake. I need s
Aria’s pov I sit in my office, watching the seconds drag. After the morning disaster with Luca, the grease-stained merger, and Noah— Especially Noah — I just want this day over. The board meeting nearly killed me. Damian’s eyes were on me the whole time, like he knew clause four had almost been ruined. I’m so tired my bones ache. I stare at the clock, as soon as it hits 4 PM. I’m up instantly. Bag. Phone. Keys. I shove the clean merger file into my drawer and lock it. A soft knock at the door. “Come in,” I call, expecting Sarah from accounting. The door opens. Damian fills the frame. Suited. Silent. Too big for my office and my nerves. “What do you need, Sir?” My voice is sugar-coated glass. Fake nice. Because I’m too tired to fight today. He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes do a slow sweep of my desk, the packed bag. Cataloging. He clears his throat. “I w
Aria’s POV What am I going to do? Shit. Damian is going to lose it. I stare at the grease stain blooming across clause four of the merger addendum. Black ink, now smeared. How do I explain this? Sorry, your brother dripped grease on the new merger deal? I check my watch. Fifty-two minutes until the board meeting. Okay. Breathe. Reprint. I shove out of my office, eyes locked on the paper, scanning the stain like it might disappear if I glare hard enough. I slam into something broad. Solid. A wall that smells like cedar and ink. The file slips and the papers scatter everywhere. My stomach drops. I look up. Noah. His pale eyes track me with some intrigue. He doesn’t bend down to help. “I’m so sorry,” I blurt, dropping to my knees to snatch the papers. “I was in a hurry—” He steps closer and I freeze. I think he’ll leave it at that. Noah Reyes usually does. But he doesn’t move.
Aria’s POV The Kane Enterprise building cut the sky in half. Noah parked in a reserved slot three spaces from the main entrance and killled the engine. Silence immediately filled the car. Thicker than it was on the highway. I had my hand on the door handle before he moved. I needed air and space from his engulfing presence. The door opened with that same quiet, expensive thud. I stepped out of the car with shaky. Like I’d been holding my breath for twenty minutes. I didn’t look back. I made it three steps before his voice hit my spine. “Miss Sinclair.” He called out to me. I turned. He was already out of the SUV. Tablet in hand. Walking toward the private elevator like I wasn’t there. Like I hadn’t just spent twenty minutes dissecting his reflection. I followed quietly behind him. We step inside the lobby. The lobby w
Aria’s POV I stood outside the study door. Hand on the knob. Frozen. Button-down. Trousers. Hair in a knot that took three tries. I was dressed. Presentable. I was also twelve minutes late. My stomach twisted. He was going to be so pissed. I could still feel his eyes from this morning. The way he’d looked away so fast. The way he’d said sorry like an insult. Breathe. It’s just a room. He’s just a man. I pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it. Damian sat behind a desk bigger than my old apartment. Phone to his ear, face carved from stone. On the wall, a video call. An older man in a suit. Gray hair. Boardroom eyes. “—That will be all for today, Mr. Kane,” the man said. Voice clipped. Respectful. Afraid. Damian nodded and ended the call with one tap. Silence slammed back into the room. Then his gaze lifted. And landed on me. I stared back at him too stunned to speak. “
Aria’s POV I sat there, frozen. Waiting. Damian’s gray eyes didn’t leave mine. He owned the silence like he owned the company. Like he owned me. “Rule one.” His voice was quiet. Deadly. “You inform one of us of your whereabouts. At all times.” Tap. His finger hit the table. “If you leave this penthouse.” Tap. “We know where.” Tap. “When you will be back.” Tap. “No exceptions, Aria.” My lungs stuttered. Not locked in. But tracked. Every move. Every breath. I looked at Luca. He was watching me, but that Playboy smirk was gone. He gave me a tiny, almost invisible nod. This is the best you’re gonna get, sweetheart. I opened my mouth. Closed it. I need this job, I can’t risk it. I nodded. Once. The movement felt like a leash clicking around my neck. Damian didn’t blink. “Rule two.” God, there was more. “You answer us.” His fingers stilled. “When we call. When we text. When we knock.” His eyes pinned me. “3 AM. 5 AM. Doesn’







