Chapter 1 - THE FOURTEENTH FLOOR’S DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
Lorenzo Rossy’s eyebrow arched an infinitesimal fraction of an inch. No one—not rival capos, not corrupt city councilmen, and certainly not trembling applicants—ever asked him if he had yelled at a woman who left his office in tears.
“She found something she shouldn't have seen,” Lorenzo said smoothly, his voice dropping into a register that sent a shiver straight down Chloe’s spine. “Just like you are standing in a room you shouldn't be in. The Rossy Corporation is not a traditional workplace, Miss Bennett.”
“Clearly,” Chloe muttered, looking down at her mismatched shoes. “Traditional workplaces usually have working elevator lights and fewer men standing outside holding weapons like they're waiting for a bus.”
Matteo appeared in the doorway, a smirk playing across his lips. “Boss, HR called. The agency sent her by mistake. She was supposed to go to logistics on the fourteenth floor. The logistics company shares our elevator bank.”
Chloe stared between them. “Wait. What?”
“You are not the secretary for the Rossy Corporation,” Lorenzo said, leaning back in his leather chair. The cold amusement in his dark eyes was terrifying. “You are an administrative error.”
“An error?” Chloe’s voice cracked. Her fear momentarily dissolved into pure, unadulterated exhaustion-fueled fury. “I spent forty-five minutes on a freezing train, walked three blocks through a deluge, snapped a thirty-dollar pair of heels, and humiliated myself by dumping my entire life across your ridiculously expensive rock desk—all for a job I didn't even apply for?”
“Correct.”
“Well, you can un-error me right now because I need the salary, health insurance, and dental coverage that I was promised twenty minutes ago!”
Lorenzo blinked. For the first time all morning, genuine surprise flickered across his carved features. Nobody yelled at Lorenzo Rossy. Nobody negotiated with him after a screw-up.
Before he could signal Matteo to throw her out, Chloe’s eyes drifted down to the shipping contract her granola bar had landed on. Her brow furrowed. She leaned closer, ignoring the billionaire mafioso entirely, and tapped a manicured finger against a column of numbers.
“Wait a minute. Who drafted this?”
“That is none of your concern,” Lorenzo said coldly.
“It’s very much my concern if I’m standing in your building,” Chloe snapped back, squinting. “Look at these port fees. You’re paying a fifty percent surcharge on container storage in sector four. That company went into liquidation last month. You’re paying ghost storage fees to a shell corporation that folded during the autumn audit.”
Lorenzo froze. He looked down at the contract, then up at Chloe.
The figures she had just pointed out in three seconds flat had eluded his entire legal team for three weeks—and had cost the family two hundred thousand dollars.
“How did you see that?” Lorenzo asked quietly.
“Because I spent three years auditing municipal transit accounts,” Chloe said, crossing her arms defensively, wincing as her broken shoe pinched her heel. “I see double-billing in my sleep. Now, are you going to fire me, or are you going to let me fix it?”
Lorenzo stared at her for a long, heavy beat. The storm outside lashed against the reinforced glass.
“You start Monday,” Lorenzo said flatly. “And fix that shipping contract by noon, or Matteo throws you off the roof.”
“I’ll need a stapler and a new pair of shoes,” Chloe shot back, turning toward the elevator.
May you like
As the doors closed, Matteo looked at his boss. “She’s going to get us all killed.”
“No,” Lorenzo murmured, staring at the pink gel pen she left behind. “She’s going to expose the rat.”
