Chasing Blake
Chapter 1: The Game Begins
Ethan Carter adjusted his tie, the silk smooth beneath his fingers, as he stepped into the sleek, glass-walled conference room. The hush of high-stakes business buzzed in the air, a symphony of hushed negotiations, clicking heels, and the steady hum of power.
A new city. A high-flying job at Westfield Consulting. The kind of paycheck that made every caffeine-fueled all-nighter at business school worth it.
This was the big leagues.
And across the room, standing like she owned it, was Sienna Blake.
His mentor. His handler. His first real problem.
Rumors trailed behind her like expensive perfume--whispers of cold dismissal, razor-sharp intelligence, and the kind of unattainable allure that made men lose their heads.
She was all long legs wrapped in a fitted pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse tucked in with military precision. Her ice-blonde hair was swept into an elegant bun, not a single strand out of place. And her lips--painted the color of blood and consequences--curved in something faintly amused as she assessed him.
Her gaze flicked downward, landing on his watch. A barely-there quirk of an eyebrow.
"You're late," she said smoothly.
Ethan checked the time. 9:00 AM. On the dot.
He exhaled slowly. "I'm pretty sure I'm exactly on time."
Sienna tilted her head, eyes gleaming like polished steel.
"Technically, yes." She stepped closer, deliberate. Controlled. The click of her heels was sharp enough to cut through glass. "But in this office, Carter, on time actually means early."
She smelled expensive. Something cool and sharp with a hint of dark musk underneath, like a blade hidden in silk.
Ethan bit back a smirk. Oh, she's going to be fun.
"Noted," he said easily. "I assume you're here to show me the ropes?"
Sienna's gaze flickered over him, assessing. Calculating.
"Something like that." A pause. A slow inhale. "Though from what I hear, you don't think you need much hand-holding."
Ethan stepped closer, just slightly. Just enough to test the space between them.
"I'm happy to be proven wrong..." His voice dipped, deliberate. "If you think you're up to the task."
The corner of her lips quirked. A slow, knowing smirk.
For a single, charged second, something flickered in those ice-blue eyes--something dark, teasing, dangerous--before it vanished, locked away behind a fortress of control.
Then, just as quickly, she pivoted on her heel.
