I stood outside the massive glass building, heart rattling against my ribs.
Skype's headquarters rose into the sky like it had something to prove — shimmering, modern, untouchable.
I felt... small.
For a second, I thought about turning around.
Just walk away, Selene.
Pretend you never dreamed of being here.
Pretend you didn't wake up this morning feeling like maybe, just maybe, something in your life was about to shift.
I exhaled sharply, adjusted my black blazer, and stepped inside.
The lobby swallowed me whole.
Marble floors, glass panels, living walls of green plants twisting up to the ceiling... It wasn't just luxury — it was another world.
I half-expected someone to tap my shoulder and say, "Sorry, you don't belong here."
"Good morning!" a bright voice called.
I turned and found the receptionist — a woman probably a few years older than me, with sleek blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ears.
Her nameplate read Caroline in tiny gold letters.
Her eyes flicked over me — quick, assessing.
And something about the little curve of her mouth made my palms sweat.
She knew something.
Or thought she did.
"Welcome to Skype," she said, voice sugar-sweet. "You must be... Selene Javis?"
"Yes."
God, my voice sounded too small, too uncertain.
Caroline's smile widened. "You're expected. Please, have a seat. Someone will be down to meet you shortly."
Then, after a beat, she added, almost teasingly,
"Very shortly."
I nodded, grateful and embarrassed all at once. I turned away and made for the seating area, feeling her eyes still on my back.
What was that supposed to mean?
Very shortly?
Someone?
I barely sat down before the soft ding of an elevator hit my ears.
Glancing up and half-expecting a group of stiff corporate types.
But it wasn't a group.
It was him.
He walked out like he owned the floor — black suit tailored perfectly to his tall frame, dark hair slightly tousled like he'd just run a hand through it.
There was something predatory about the way he moved — effortless but lethal.
And when his eyes landed on me, the air between us tightened.
I knew instantly — without a word exchanged — that this was Jacob Gerard.
The temporary CEO.
The man I'd only heard rumors about.
The man whose reputation whispered of power, charm, and... danger.
He didn't walk.
He prowled.
And every step closer to me felt like a step toward some invisible cliff's edge.
"Selene Javis," he said, voice low and smooth as velvet.
Not a question. A certainty.
I stood up too quickly. My knees bumped the coffee table.
Smooth, Selene. Real smooth.
He smiled — and damn him, he actually made it look genuine.
There was a glint in his eyes, though, something playful... and something much, much darker.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, offering his hand.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it.
His palm was warm — firm grip, thumb brushing slightly against my skin like a secret handshake.
I felt it everywhere.
A stupid little shiver raced up my spine.
"You must be Jacob Gerard," I said, voice steadier than I felt.
He laughed softly.
"Must be," he echoed. "Though... I prefer Jacob when we're not in a boardroom. Less suffocating, don't you think?"
I didn't know how to answer that.
I wasn't sure what world he operated in — but in mine, CEOs didn't flirt five seconds into meeting you.
Or maybe that's just who Jacob was.
A storm you didn't know you were standing under until you were already drenched.
He studied me for a long moment, and it wasn't the professional, polite kind of studying.
It was... curious. Personal. Like he was fitting me into some puzzle in his head.
"You look different from the reports," he said casually, letting the sentence dangle dangerously.
I blinked. "Reports?"
He smiled again, and it did nothing to settle me.
"My team briefed me about you," he said. "Your background. Your... ambitions."
I bristled a little.
"I wasn't aware I was being investigated," I said lightly, though my heart hammered louder.
"Just thoroughness," he said.
"At Skype, we like to know the treasures before we hire them."
I didn't know whether to feel complimented or deeply unnerved.
Before I could respond, he motioned toward the elevators.
"Walk with me?"
I hesitated.
Said yes anyway.
We moved through the lobby together — me a step behind because his stride was so damn long.
The smell of his cologne hit me again — something woodsy and sharp, like cedar and rain.
It made my head light.
"You impressed a lot of people," Jacob said casually as we walked. "I think you'll be... very valuable to us."
"Thank you," I murmured.
"You'll find we have high expectations," he continued, voice dropping lower, almost like a secret.
"But I have a feeling you'll... exceed them."
God, he was dangerous.
Every word, every look, was a carefully aimed arrow.
And I wasn't armored enough for it.
Not after everything I'd lost.
Not after the pieces of me I was still gluing back together.
I needed to remember why I was here.
Not for flattery.
Not for men with smiles like blades.
I was here for my future.
For the dreams my grandfather and I had shared.
For the truth.
Still... when he brushed his hand lightly against my back to guide me into the elevator, my body betrayed me — a stupid jolt of electricity shot through me.
I hated that I felt it.
The elevator doors slid shut.
For a moment, we were trapped alone inside a mirrored box.
Our reflections watched us — his tall, confident frame; my stiff, uncertain one.
It was like a metaphor for everything already unfolding.
Jacob glanced at me sideways.
"You'll fit in here," he said, voice low and sure.
"Maybe too well."
I didn't know what he meant.
I wasn't sure I wanted to.
The doors opened again too soon.
I stumbled out into the second-floor lobby, breathing a little too fast.
Jacob stayed inside, leaning casually against the side of the elevator, one hand in his pocket.
"I'll see you soon, Selene," he said, voice dripping with unspoken promises.
"And welcome... to Skype."
The doors slid closed.
And I stood there, alone, feeling like the ground had shifted under my feet.
What the hell just happened?