Chapter One: The Man Behind the Glass
The sleek black Rolls-Royce Ghost glided silently through the early morning mist of London's financial district, weaving past slower cars as if the city itself made room for him.
Inside, Zion Carter sat motionless, dressed in a charcoal Armani suit and a white dress shirt, crisp and spotless. His dark brown eyes stared out of the tinted window, scanning the skyline absently. He wasn't looking for anything but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
The car pulled up in front of Carter Tower, a towering glass structure that mirrored the clouds above and bore the name of his family in gold. Zion didn't wait for his driver to open the door. He stepped out slowly, purposefully.
Cameras didn't flash, but heads turned.
He was Zion Carter, the mysterious billionaire who rarely gave interviews, never smiled in public, and was rumoured to have walked away from a royal engagement in Monaco. At 30, he was already on Forbes' cover three times and he had built a reputation for being sharp, brilliant, and heartbreakingly unattainable.
As he entered the lobby, luxury enveloped him: Italian marble floors, velvet drapes, a private elevator that took him straight to the 42nd floor his domain.
But beneath the wealth, Zion felt hollow. His life was a perfectly tailored prison. Same routine. Same boardroom battles. Same emotionless nights in a penthouse too quiet for a man his age.
Then he saw her.
Not now but two weeks ago.
A chance encounter at a private art gallery in Paris. She wasn't dressed in diamonds or flaunting designer heels. She stood alone in front of a canvas painted in melancholy ,her eyes soft, unfocused, sad.
Hazel eyes.
She didn't notice him then. But he noticed her. And her memory had followed him ever since, lingering like the echo of a violin after a concert ends.
Now, seated behind his desk overlooking the London skyline, Zion scrolled through the daily briefing, contracts, mergers, global stocks. His mind wasn't in it.
There was a knock at the office door.
"Come in," he said, without shifting his gaze.
His assistant peeked in. "Good morning, Mr. Carter. Your new executive assistant just arrived. Should I bring her in?"
"I thought HR was still vetting."
"She was personally recommended. Exceptional resume. Fluent in four languages. Comes with security clearance."
He sighed and motioned with his hand. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
Moments later, the office door opened again.
She stepped in.
Hair tucked into a sleek low bun, wearing a modest but elegant black dress and heels that clicked softly against the marble. She moved with confidence but not arrogance. When she finally met his gaze,
It was her.
Zion's eyes narrowed. She paused. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes but she said nothing.
"Name?" he asked, already knowing.
"Amira Fontaine," she replied, her voice gentle but firm. "Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Carter."
Zion leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his expression neutral.
The universe had brought her back.
And this time, he wasn't just going to admire her from afar.
Now, she worked for him.