Forbidden Touch

Elena Rivera stood outside the towering glass building, its sleek facade glinting under the morning sun. The Ashcroft Corporation loomed like a giant over the bustling New York street- a perfect symbol of power, precision, and, according to every tabloid she'd ever read, ruthless ambition. She exhaled slowly, pressing her trembling fingers against her blazer, smoothing away invisible wrinkles.

This wasn't just any job interview. It was the job interview.

"Personal assistant to John Ashcroft," she whispered to herself, tasting the words like they were foreign. They felt out of reach, like a dream that didn't belong to her. Elena had spent the last three years clawing her way up from the bottom- first as a receptionist, then a junior office manager. Now, the opportunity to work alongside one of the most powerful billionaires in the country? Unthinkable.

Yet, here she was.

Clutching her worn leather portfolio, she stepped inside, greeted by the cool blast of air conditioning and the sterile scent of polished marble. The lobby was immaculate, every surface gleaming, every employee moving with brisk, efficient purpose. She approached the front desk, her heels echoing softly.

"Hi, I'm Elena Rivera," she said to the receptionist, her voice steadier than she felt. "I have an interview at ten."

The receptionist gave her a once-over, her expression professional but curious. "Of course, Ms. Rivera. Please take the elevator to the top floor. Mr. Ashcroft's office is waiting."

Top floor. Naturally.

Elena swallowed hard, thanked her, and crossed to the elevators. As she rode upward, the cityscape fell away beneath her, and her nerves twisted tighter. She'd prepared for days- studied John Ashcroft's business empire, his rise from a privileged but competitive family, his reputation for brilliance tinged with a streak of cold pragmatism. Yet, no amount of research could prepare her for meeting the man himself.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open into a stunning private lobby. The windows bathed the space in light, showcasing a panoramic view of Manhattan. A tall woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper suit stood waiting.

"Elena Rivera?" she asked.

"Yes," Elena replied, stepping forward.

"I'm Simone, Mr. Ashcroft's chief of staff. Follow me, please."

They moved briskly down a wide corridor, their footsteps softened by plush carpeting. At the end of the hall stood an imposing set of double doors. Simone knocked once, then pushed them open, gesturing Elena inside.

The office was vast and minimalist, all clean lines and neutral tones. Behind an enormous mahogany desk stood him.

John Ashcroft.

He was taller than she'd expected, easily over six feet, with a powerful frame encased in a perfectly tailored navy suit. His dark hair was swept back with effortless precision, his chiseled jaw tense as he reviewed a document. When he looked up, Elena felt the air shift, as if the room itself acknowledged his presence.

His eyes-a piercing steel blue-met hers, sharp and assessing.

"Elena Rivera," he said, voice smooth but cool. "Have a seat."

She crossed the room, each step measured, and sat in the chair opposite him, carefully placing her portfolio on her lap. For a moment, there was only silence, heavy and expectant.

"I've read your résumé," he began, setting the document aside. "Your experience is... limited."

Elena stiffened but met his gaze. "I believe my track record shows I'm a fast learner, Mr. Ashcroft. I'm dedicated and resourceful."

He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "This position isn't for the faint-hearted. My previous assistants have lasted, at best, six months."

She nodded. "I'm aware of your reputation."

That earned her the barest flicker of a smile-more a quirk of his lips than anything warm. "Are you?"

Elena chose her next words carefully. "I know you're demanding. Exacting. You expect loyalty and precision. I also know your company's success is built on those standards. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I could meet them."

A tense pause followed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Confidence. I admire that."

He rose suddenly, walking toward the window, hands in his pockets. "Tell me, Ms. Rivera, what's your weakness?"

The question hit harder than she expected. "I-"

"Be honest," he cut in, turning back to face her. His gaze pinned her to the chair, sharp and unyielding.

Elena drew a breath. "I sometimes care too much about the people I work with. I want to succeed, but I also want those around me to succeed. It can... complicate things."

His brow lifted. "Compassion. That's rare in my world."

She held his gaze. "Maybe it's what your world needs."

For the first time, real interest sparked in his eyes. He crossed back to his desk, sitting once more. "You're bold, Ms. Rivera."

"I'm honest."

He nodded slowly, then tapped a button on his desk. "Simone, cancel my next appointment."

Elena's stomach flipped.

John's gaze sharpened. "Congratulations. You're hired."

It took a beat for the words to sink in. "Thank you, Mr. Ashcroft. I-"

"I don't do thank-yous," he interrupted, standing. "We start tomorrow. Six a.m. sharp."

She rose as well, gripping her portfolio tightly. "Understood."

He studied her one last time, his voice low and cool. "Don't make me regret this, Ms. Rivera."

With that, he turned back to his paperwork, dismissing her as easily as he'd hired her.