"Miss Shaw, this is the CEO’s office. Mr. Osborne is still in a morning meeting. Please have a seat and wait for a bit," the receptionist said politely, her voice calm and pleasant.

She brewed a cup of tea for Samantha Shaw and gave a friendly smile before quietly stepping out.

Now, the spacious office was completely silent, with just Samantha sitting alone on a sleek leather couch. The space felt almost surreal—like she was floating, completely untethered.

When she got the AN Group offer letter yesterday, she genuinely thought it was a mistake. But now, here she was, inside the CEO's office of AN—everything around her looked high-end and serious, the cool-toned decor only adding to the pressure in her chest.

Her heart raced uncontrollably. It was frankly terrifying how real all of this felt.

AN Group was famous across H City. Word was, even their janitors needed a bachelor’s degree and a CET-6 certificate. That made her even more confused—she never applied to AN, so how did she end up getting hired?

Tap, tap, tap—

Faint footsteps sounded from outside, pulling her straight out of her thoughts. The heavy office door began to swing open.

Samantha shot up from the couch, her eyes fixed nervously on the doorway, both tense and curious.

A polished black leather shoe crossed the threshold first. Her eyes dropped to the floor, then traced up the man’s sharply tailored pants, over a well-built torso, finally landing on a face that was cool and unreadable.

He was good-looking in a sharp, masculine way, with strong brows and thin lips. His thick lashes cast shadows as his gaze stayed slightly lowered, expression distant and unbothered. The moment he stepped in, he knew someone was already inside.

With a small lift of his chin, his eyes finally settled on Samantha. His steps were steady but long, and in no time, he reached his desk.

Taking his seat, Henry Osborne laced his fingers together and gave a sweeping glance toward the two assistants at the door. His thin lips moved slightly. "You can go. Close the door."

The second Samantha heard "Close the door," a chill ran from her heels straight to her scalp. She clutched her purse tighter, her instincts on full alert as she stared at the man in front of her.

He sat with his back to the floor-to-ceiling window, sunlight spilling around him, outlining his figure with a cold, almost intimidating glow. The way he looked at her through that hazy morning light—there was something behind his eyes that she couldn’t quite read.

For a moment, the room felt frozen. Samantha gulped, trying to calm herself enough to move.

She stepped forward, forcing herself to stand straight. Then, with a deep bow, she said, "Good morning, Mr. Osborne. I’m Samantha Shaw. I received your company’s offer yesterday and came today to report for work."She instinctively dipped her head, trying to avoid the man’s gaze, yet it felt like two scorching beams were burning right through her skull—like X-rays set on full blast.

Samantha Shaw’s palms were sweaty. The man didn’t say a word for a long time, so she slowly straightened up and looked over at him from the corner of her eye.

But the moment she glanced up, her gaze was snagged by his—those cold, ink-deep eyes were like still water in the dead of winter. She couldn’t look away.

The guy was ridiculously handsome. His features were sharp and almost too perfect, like they’d been crafted out of a painting. And in the hazy sunlight, he looked more like a dream than a real person. His whole vibe was screaming, “Don’t even think about coming near.” To her, he was like a lion lying in wait—calm, but possibly ready to strike.

“You’re Samantha Shaw,” Henry Osborne finally said after eyeing her for what felt like an eternity.

As he spoke, he reached for a contract on the desk and placed it by the edge, “Come over. Sit down. Fill out this onboarding form.”

“Ah, okay,” Samantha mumbled, swallowing nervously as she tiptoed over, quietly pulled out a chair, and sat down.

He handed her a sleek, all-black fountain pen that felt heavier than anything she’d written with before—definitely high-end stuff.

“I’ve got a few questions,” he said, voice cool and steady.

Samantha’s hand gave the tiniest of shakes as she froze mid-signature. She forced a smile and looked up. “Sure, Mr. Osborne, go ahead.” Deep down, a pit was forming in her stomach. What if the offer letter was sent to the wrong person?

Her heart thumped wildly while waiting for him to speak. Then Henry paused for a bit before asking, “Where were you working before joining AN?”

And just like that, Samantha felt her tough facade snap a little. “I... I was at Harris Hotel,” she answered carefully.

“What was your position?”

“Housekeeping manager.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, lips tightening slightly before continuing, “Why did you leave?”

Boom. That was the one she’d been dreading. Samantha shut her eyes for a second, her hands clenching awkwardly on her knees. “To be honest, Mr. Osborne... I was let go,” she muttered and stood up straight, clearly flustered.

Her face was stiff with embarrassment, the kind of look you’d see on a kid caught cheating during a quiz—nervous, awkward, and a little sorry.

Henry blinked, clearly thrown off by her response. All he'd done was ask a simple question, yet she reacted like he’d hit a sore spot. She was standing right in the soft glow of the morning light, and the way it highlighted the fine hairs around her face made her look strangely delicate... kind of adorable, actually.

“Mind if I ask... what happened?” His voice was low, calm, but there was real curiosity in it.

That question... Samantha honestly had no clue how to answer.