Chapter 1 - Collided
**Layla — Ares Enterprise, 9:04 AM**
She was late.
Not the kind of late that could be fixed with a smile and an apology. The kind that curled into her stomach and made it hard to breathe.
Layla tightened her grip on her bag as the elevator opened onto the twenty-fifth floor. Her heels clicked across polished marble that whispered of wealth and order.
Ares Enterprise.
The name alone was intimidating. Standing inside its headquarters was worse. She had read the articles: cold, efficient, untouchable, just like the man who had built it. Whoever he was.
She turned a sharp corner near the executive wing, and a blur of tailored black slammed into her shoulder.
"Oh my God—!" She stumbled, barely keeping her balance.
The man had been walking fast, too fast, with a stack of documents in his arms. The impact sent the pages fluttering to the floor like scattered snow.
"I'm so sorry!" Layla dropped to her knees and began gathering the mess, her fingers trembling.
He didn't answer right away. When she stole a glance, he was staring at her with furrowed brows. Not annoyed. Not angry. Stunned, as if he had forgotten how to move.
Her cheeks burned. "I didn't see you coming. Really, I should have—"
"It's fine." He crouched to help, and his voice was deeper than she expected. Calm. Cool. Reserved.
They reached for the last sheet at the same time. Their hands nearly touched. He paused, and she looked up, and their eyes met.
Something shifted.
It lasted only a moment. Then Layla stood too quickly, brushed invisible dust from her skirt, and gave a clumsy, apologetic nod.
"I'm really sorry again. I'm late for an interview," she said, already backing away.
"Right." He was still watching her as though she were a puzzle with one piece that didn't fit. "Good luck," he said softly.
She turned and disappeared around the corner, faster than the wind.
---
**Anthony**
Anthony stayed where he was, longer than he should have.
One hand still held a crumpled folder. His pulse was racing, and he couldn't explain why. Women stumbled into him at events, at galas, in lobbies. He had never once stopped to notice.
*It was nothing,* he told himself. *A collision. Nothing more.*
He picked up his papers and walked on, but the sound of her voice, low and shaking and sorry, followed him down the hall.
---
**Layla — Ten Minutes Later**
She sat across from a panel of unfamiliar faces and forced herself to breathe.
She had retouched her lipstick. She had straightened her blouse. She had repeated it in the restroom mirror until it almost sounded true: *the hallway was just an incident. Nothing more.*
*Focus,* she told herself. *Your mother needs this job. Focus.*
---
**Anthony**
In the boardroom next door, Anthony Alexander, CEO of Ares Enterprise, opened the next candidate file and went still.
The photo showed a woman he had met ten minutes ago.
**Layla S. Thomas. Age 29. Accountant.**
A quiet record. An impressive work ethic. Solid experience. Unremarkable on paper.
Except now he couldn't stop thinking about the way her voice had trembled when she apologized, or the way her eyes kept sliding away from his, as though she were trying not to be seen.
When the receptionist announced her name, he rose from the board table.
"Excuse me," he murmured to his team. "I need to take a call. Please proceed without me."
No one questioned it. No one ever did.
But Anthony didn't take a call. He slipped through a side door into the observation hallway behind the one-way glass, where he could see everything and be seen by no one.
On the other side, Layla stepped into the room, squared her shoulders, and smiled at the panel like someone who had practiced.
Why was he doing this?
Curiosity, maybe.
Or maybe something more.
All he knew was that he didn't want her to know who he was.
Not yet.
