The Interview

Isabella's POV

The sound of the alarm made Isabella Bennett groan beneath her blanket.

She stretched one hand towards the bedside table, knocked over her phone and finally managed to silence the annoying noise.

"Five more minutes," she whispered.

"Isabella!"

Her mother's voice came from downstairs.

"Your five minutes will turn into an hour. Get out of that bed!"

Isabella closed her eyes.

"Good morning Mother."

She dragged herself out of bed and glanced at the clock.

7:15 a.m.

Her interview was scheduled for nine.

"Oh, God!"

She jumped up immediately.

Today was important. More important than any other job interview she had attended in the past three months.

Blackwood Enterprises.

One of the largest and most influential investment companies in New York.

Getting a job there could change everything.

Her father's business had been struggling for months, their savings were disappearing, and her younger sister's university expenses were becoming increasingly difficult to manage.

Isabella wasn't looking for a luxurious life.

She simply wanted to help her family breathe again.

She hurried into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, she stood before her mirror wearing a fitted cream blouse, a black pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees and black heels.

She pulled her long brown hair into a neat ponytail, applied a little makeup and picked up her handbag.

"Not bad, Isabella," she told her reflection. "Today, you are getting that job."

8:10 a.m. — The Bennett Residence

"Finally! The princess is ready."

Sophia Bennett sat at the dining table, eating toast while scrolling through her phone.

Isabella rolled her eyes.

"Good morning to you too, troublemaker."

"Good morning, unemployed sister."

"Sophia!"

"What? I'm just stating facts."

Their mother, Catherine, placed a plate of eggs on the table.

"Both of you, please. Isabella, eat something before you leave."

"I don't have time, Mum."

"You always say that. Sit down."

Isabella sighed and took a seat.

Her father, Michael Bennett, entered the dining room holding his newspaper.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

"Good morning, Dad."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Big day?"

"The biggest."

Michael smiled.

"You're going to do well. Just be yourself."

Sophia raised her glass.

"And if the billionaire CEO refuses to employ you, ask him to marry you instead."

Isabella nearly choked on her water.

"Sophia!"

"What? We need money in this family."

Catherine shook her head.

"That girl will be the death of me."

Everyone laughed except Michael, whose smile slowly faded.

He looked at Isabella.

"Which company did you say you're interviewing with?"

"Blackwood Enterprises."

The newspaper slipped slightly in his hands.

For a moment, his expression changed.

"Blackwood?"

Isabella noticed.

"Yes, Dad. Why?"

Michael quickly composed himself.

"Nothing. Just make sure you do your best."

But something about his reaction bothered her.

Before she could ask another question, her phone rang.

She checked the time.

8:20 a.m.

"I have to go!"

She grabbed her handbag, kissed her parents goodbye and hurried out.

Behind her, Michael remained unusually quiet.

Catherine noticed.

"Michael, what's wrong?"

He stared at the newspaper.

"Nothing, Catherine."

But he knew it wasn't nothing.

He hadn't heard the name Blackwood in years.

And he had hoped he never would again.

9:05 a.m. — Blackwood Enterprises, Manhattan

The building was enormous.

A towering glass structure stood proudly among the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Its entrance was decorated with polished marble, expensive furniture and an enormous golden logo.

BLACKWOOD ENTERPRISES.

Isabella stood outside for a moment, staring at the building.

"Wow."

She adjusted her handbag and walked inside.

The receptionist looked up.

"Good morning. How may I help you?"

"Good morning. My name is Isabella Bennett. I have an interview scheduled for nine."

"One moment, please."

The receptionist checked her computer.

"Yes, Miss Bennett. You're expected on the thirty-second floor. Take the elevator on your left."

"Thank you."

Isabella walked towards the elevator.

As the doors closed, she took a deep breath.

She could do this.

She had prepared for every possible question.

She knew the company's history, its major investments and its recent expansion plans.

Nothing could go wrong.

Or so she thought.

9:15 a.m. — Thirty-second Floor

A woman in a navy-blue suit approached her.

"Miss Bennett?"

"Yes."

"I'm Emily Carter, Mr. Blackwood's personal assistant. Please follow me."

Isabella stood.

"Thank you."

Emily led her down a long corridor.

"Just so you know, Mr. Blackwood prefers direct answers. Don't waste his time."

Isabella nodded.

"Understood."

Emily stopped in front of a large office door.

"And one more thing."

Isabella looked at her.

"Yes?"

"Don't take his attitude personally."

Before Isabella could ask what she meant, Emily knocked.

"Come in."

A deep male voice answered from inside.

Emily opened the door.

"Mr. Blackwood, Miss Isabella Bennett is here for her interview."

"Send her in."

Isabella stepped inside.

And immediately understood what Emily had meant.

A man sat behind an enormous black desk, studying documents on his computer.

He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, a white shirt and an expensive wristwatch.

His dark hair was neatly styled, his jawline sharp and his expression unreadable.

He didn't look up.

"Sit."

Isabella stood still for a second.

Then she walked towards the chair opposite him.

"Good morning, Mr. Blackwood."

He continued typing.

"You're late."

Isabella glanced at the clock.

"It's 9:16. My interview was scheduled for nine."

"Exactly."

She blinked.

"With all due respect, I was directed to the wrong floor initially. I arrived at reception before nine."

His fingers stopped moving.

Slowly, he raised his head.

Their eyes met.

His were a cold shade of grey.

Hers were warm brown.

For a moment, he simply stared at her.

Most people became nervous when he looked at them.

Some even struggled to speak.

But this woman was looking directly into his eyes as though she had absolutely nothing to fear.

Interesting.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Isabella Bennett. It's on my résumé."

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

"You're quite confident."

"I prefer being prepared."

A faint smile almost appeared on his lips, but disappeared immediately.

He picked up her résumé.

"Graduated with honours. Excellent academic record. Two years of experience in financial administration."

"Yes, sir."

"Then why are you applying for an assistant position?"

"Because I'm qualified for the position, and I'm interested in working for a company where I can grow professionally."

He leaned back.

"Or perhaps you simply need the money?"

Isabella's expression changed.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

She took a slow breath.

"With all due respect, Mr. Blackwood, I don't believe my financial situation has anything to do with my ability to do this job."

Silence.

Alexander studied her for several seconds.

Most applicants tried desperately to impress him.

This woman seemed determined to challenge him.

He found it irritating.

And strangely entertaining.

"Do you always speak this way to potential employers?"

"Only when they ask inappropriate questions."

His eyes narrowed.

Emily, who was standing near the door, looked down to hide her reaction.

Nobody spoke to Alexander Blackwood like that.

Nobody.

Alexander closed her résumé.

"You're dismissed."

Isabella stared at him.

"What?"

"You heard me. The interview is over."

She slowly stood.

"Fine."

She picked up her handbag.

"But perhaps next time, you should interview candidates based on their qualifications rather than making assumptions about their personal lives."

She turned towards the door.

"Miss Bennett."

She stopped.

"Yes?"

Alexander looked at her.

"Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?"

She gave him a polite smile.

"Yes. The man who just wasted twenty minutes of my morning."

Then she walked out.

The door closed.

Emily remained frozen.

Alexander stared at the door for several seconds.

Then he slowly turned towards his assistant.

"Who exactly recommended her?"

"She applied through the company's recruitment portal, sir."

He picked up her résumé again.

Isabella Rose Bennett.

He read the name twice.

"Get me her application file."

Emily nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"And Emily?"

"Yes?"

His eyes remained fixed on the résumé.

"Find out everything about her."

11:40 a.m. — Blackwood Family Residence

Alexander entered the enormous mansion with his phone pressed against his ear.

"Yes, Ethan. I'll review the documents before the meeting."

He removed his jacket and handed it to Grace Miller, the housekeeper.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Alexander."

"Afternoon, Grace."

His mother, Victoria, was sitting in the living room with a cup of tea.

"Alexander, darling. You're home early."

"Meeting was cancelled."

"Your father wants you in his study."

Alexander sighed.

"What does he want now?"

Victoria gave him a warning look.

"Please don't start."

He walked towards his father's study and knocked once before entering.

Richard Blackwood stood near the window, speaking on the phone.

"Call Michael Bennett. Tell him I need to speak with him."

Alexander stopped.

Michael Bennett?

He had heard the name before, but couldn't immediately remember where.

Richard ended the call and turned around.

"You're here."

"You asked for me."

"Sit down."

Alexander remained standing.

"What is it?"

Richard walked towards his desk.

"I want you to attend the Montgomery charity gala next Saturday."

"Why?"

"Because the Montgomery family is important to our business."

Alexander loosened his tie.

"If you want to attend, go ahead. I'm not interested."

Richard's expression hardened.

"Olivia will be there."

"Then she can enjoy the evening without me."

"Alexander, you cannot continue behaving like a child."

Alexander gave a humourless laugh.

"And you cannot continue planning my life."

Richard slammed a document onto the desk.

"One day, you'll understand that everything I've done has been for this family."

Alexander looked at him coldly.

"Whatever you say, Father."

He turned and walked out.

But before closing the door, he heard his father make another phone call.

"Michael, we need to talk. It's about your daughter."

Alexander stopped.

His father's voice dropped.

"She's working at my company."

Alexander slowly turned around.

What the hell was going on?

12:15 p.m. — Isabella's Apartment

Isabella threw her handbag onto the sofa and kicked off her heels.

"That arrogant, self-important man!"

She grabbed a cushion and squeezed it tightly.

"Who does he think he is?"

Her phone rang.

Charlotte Evans.

Isabella answered immediately.

"Please tell me you got the job!"

Charlotte's excited voice filled the room.

"Well?"

Isabella sighed.

"I think I just got fired from a job I hadn't even started."

"What?"

She explained everything.

Charlotte burst into laughter.

"Wait. You insulted the billionaire CEO?"

"I didn't insult him. I simply told him the truth."

"Girl, you're either extremely brave or completely broke."

"Both, apparently."

Charlotte laughed again.

"Listen, forget him. There are other companies in New York."

Isabella looked towards the ceiling.

She wished it were that simple.

Her family needed her.

And she couldn't afford another disappointment.

Her phone vibrated.

An email notification appeared.

BLACKWOOD ENTERPRISES — HUMAN RESOURCES

She frowned.

"That's strange."

Charlotte asked, "What is it?"

"An email from Blackwood Enterprises."

"Open it!"

Isabella tapped the notification.

Her eyes widened.

She read it once.

Then twice.

SUBJECT: EMPLOYMENT OFFER — ISABELLA ROSE BENNETT

Dear Miss Bennett,

Following your interview this morning, we are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the position of Executive Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer.

Your employment will commence Monday at 8:00 a.m.

Further details will be provided upon acceptance.

Congratulations.

Isabella stared at the screen.

"What?"

Charlotte screamed through the phone.

"WHAT DOES IT SAY?"

Isabella slowly sat down.

"I got the job."

Charlotte screamed again.

But Isabella wasn't smiling.

She read the position title once more.