Chapter 3 Three
Izzy arrived early the next morning.
Thirty minutes early, to be exact.
After yesterday’s shock, she wasn’t taking any chances. Her hair was tied neatly, her blouse crisp, her nerves on edge.
The office was quiet at that hour, sunlight streaming through the tall windows. She sat at her new desk just outside Dominic’s glass office, trying to look busy as she arranged files and opened her laptop.
Still, her mind wouldn’t stop replaying the night at the club… the heat, his hands, the rush she’d never felt before. Now that the stranger was her boss.
“Focus, Izzy,” she whispered to herself. “Work. Just work.”
The elevator chimed. Her heart skipped.
Dominic stepped out, tall and calm as ever—in a dark suit. No tie. Sleeves rolled slightly at the wrists. Controlled, composed, confident. The air seemed to shift the moment he walked in.
“Good morning, Miss Hart,” he said, his tone smooth.
“Good morning, Mr. Steele.”
He stopped by her desk, glanced over her setup. “Early.”
“I wanted to make a good impression.”
“You already have.” His voice was steady, but his eyes held something deeper… something that made her pulse jump.
Dominic turned toward his office, then paused. “Bring the Grant proposal when you’re ready. And coffee.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he closed the glass door behind him, Izzy took a slow breath. You can handle this, she told herself. Just stay professional.
Half an hour later, she brought the files in, careful not to make eye contact. Dominic was on a call, voice low but firm. His desk was spotless, every line in the room sharp and modern.
He ended the call and looked up. “Set it there.”
She did, placing the folder on his desk. He gestured for her to sit.
“Tell me,” he said, leaning back. “What would you do differently with this campaign?”
She blinked. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
Izzy glanced down at the papers. “Um… I think it’s strong, but the tone feels too formal. Maybe we could make it more relatable, more emotional. The product’s about connection, not just image.”
Dominic studied her quietly. “You’ve read it once, and you already see that?”
“I… I think so, yes.”
He nodded slowly. “Interesting.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence was charged. She could feel the weight of his gaze. Not inappropriate,… but curious.
Measured.
“You surprise me, Miss Hart,” he said finally.
She tried to smile. “I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It could be,” he replied, almost under his breath.
When she stood to leave, he said, “You learn fast. Keep doing that.”
“Yes, Mr. Steele.”
Her voice came out softer than she meant it to. He noticed. His eyes flicked toward her mouth before he looked away.
She left the office, heart racing.
Back at her desk, Maya’s name popped up on her phone screen.
Maya: Sooo… how’s the new boss? 👀
Izzy: Complicated.
Maya: That bad?
Izzy: No. That's dangerous.
Maya sent a row of laughing emojis, but Izzy didn’t smile.
She could feel it… the tension under every polite word, every stolen glance.
And she hated that a small part of her… liked it.
When Dominic walked out later to check on a meeting, their eyes met for the briefest second. He gave nothing away, his face unreadable, but she could tell.
He remembered. Just like she did.
And in that moment, Izzy realized something dangerous: she was no longer sure if she wanted to forget that night… or relive it.
The office had gone quiet hours ago.
Desks were empty, lights dimmed, and the only sound was the soft hum of computers.
Izzy was still at her desk, typing out a report. Her first day had been long, but she wasn’t ready to go home yet. Maybe it was the nerves, maybe the desire to prove herself… or maybe she just didn’t want to think too much about Dominic Steele and everything that had happened before this job began.
Maybe she wanted to stay back.
Maybe. Maybe.
A lot of maybe.
She rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stretched.
“Still here?”
The voice startled her. She turned and found Dominic standing by the glass wall, his jacket gone, his shirt sleeves rolled up. The sight made her heart do something it shouldn’t.
“Yes,” she said quickly, standing up. “Just finishing up the report you asked for.”
He stepped closer, scanning the files on her desk. “On your first day?”
“I wanted to show you I can handle the workload.”
Dominic’s lips curved slightly, the smallest of smiles. “Impressive. Most people can’t even find the coffee machine on their first day.”
“I found that too,” she said, trying to sound funny.
He chuckled softly. “Impressive.”
The silence stretched. The kind that wasn’t uncomfortable… just heavy. Electric.
Then, after a pause, he said, “Would you like a drink?”
Izzy blinked. “Now?”
“Now,” he said simply. “Just one. In my office.”
Every voice in her head screamed no. But her heart whispered yes.
She nodded. “All right.”
He held the door open for her as she followed him inside. The office lights were dim, and city lights spilling in through the tall glass windows. On the low shelf near his desk sat a crystal decanter and two glasses.
Dominic poured amber liquid into both and handed her one.
“To your first day,” he said.
“To survive it,” she replied with a small laugh. Their fingers brushed as she took the glass.
He didn’t move away immediately. The air seemed to shift… closer, warmer.
Then, in a low voice, he said, “I never expected to see the girl whose pussy begged me to be fucked.”
Her breath caught. She set the glass down slowly, heartbeat pounding. “So you do remember.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “I remember everything.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city glowed behind them, a blur of lights and motion, but in that quiet office, time seemed to still.
“I didn’t plan for this,” she said softly.
“Neither did I.”
Dominic took a step closer. “But it happened. And now…” His voice trailed off.
Izzy felt her pulse rise, her skin tingling from the nearness of him. She should have walked out. She knew that. But she didn’t.
Instead, she looked up at him. “You’re my boss now.”
“I’m aware,” he said, voice low. “And I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Then what are we doing?”
Dominic studied her face for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Testing control,” he said finally.
The words lingered in the air…heavy, suggestive, and dangerous.
He reached out, brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and stepped back. The movement broke the moment, but not the tension.
“Go home, Izzy,” he said quietly. “Before I forget where we are.”
She swallowed hard, nodded, and turned to leave. But as she reached the door, she heard him say…
“You did a good job today.”
Izzy didn’t look back. She just whispered, “Thank you,” and walked out, her heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with work.
When the elevator doors closed, she exhaled shakily, leaning against the wall. The city lights below blurred as she whispered to herself.
“This is going to be a problem.”