Sienna had been in the office for precisely thirteen minutes, and already, she wanted to scream.
Not cry—scream.
At the stares. The smirks. The fake friendly greetings that felt more like landmines.
And the worst part?
They weren't wrong.
She had attended a romantic rooftop dinner with Julian Blake.
She had been photographed holding his hand like she belonged there.
And she was now, officially, the woman everyone was watching.
Not the ambitious assistant.
Not the no-nonsense planner.
Not even the strictly professional staff member she fought so hard to be.
No, now she was "the CEO's girlfriend."
A title she didn't ask for and didn't deserve—but one she had to wear like armor, because this fake relationship had a shelf life. And it couldn't crack yet.
So she walked through the open-concept workspace like she owned the damn place, even as her phone buzzed with fresh headlines.
"Julian Blake's Dinner Date Identified – Meet the Woman Stealing the Ice King's Heart."
"Move Over, Miranda Kerr—Julian Blake's Got a New Type."
"She's hot. She's smart. She's… his assistant?"
Sienna didn't bother opening them. She shoved her phone into her bag and straightened her blazer.
Her heart was doing that thing again—beating too fast, like it couldn't tell if it was nervous or excited. She hated that. She especially hated the fact that her body responded like this whenever Julian's name even flickered through her thoughts.
And as if summoned by a curse, the glass door to his office opened behind her.
"Cole," came the smooth, familiar voice.
Her spine locked. She turned.
Julian Blake stood there, in a navy suit that had no business fitting that well. No tie, collar slightly open. Five o'clock shadow that looked more like a designer accessory than laziness. He held a tumbler of coffee, but he hadn't touched it.
He was looking at her. Eyes unreadable. Mouth pressed into a line that wasn't quite a smile, but wasn't not one either.
"Morning," she said, too cool. Too quick.
"You're with me for the ten a.m. pitch meeting."
Sienna blinked. "I thought that was internal—just the senior consultants."
"It is. You're sitting in."
"No offense, sir, but why?"
That line. Sir. It always made his jaw tick, just slightly.
"Because I said so."
He turned without waiting for a response.
And God help her—Sienna followed.
⸻
The Pitch Room
The boardroom buzzed with quiet tension as everyone filed in. Sienna took a spot near the end of the table, not quite at Julian's side, but close enough to pretend she belonged.
Then he walked in.
Dayo Sanni. Tall. Smooth. Ivy League-bright with a Lagos swagger. One of the external PR consultants Julian occasionally worked with. Charming. Funny. Charisma like a cologne.
He noticed Sienna immediately.
"Wow. Julian's taste in staff has improved."
Julian didn't flinch.
Sienna lifted a brow. "Improved?"
Dayo grinned. "I meant in intelligence, of course."
She snorted. "Of course."
Julian's hand, resting on the table, curled into a loose fist.
The presentation began.
Dayo's team pitched a sleek new campaign—smart, fresh, fast-moving. But he barely looked at Julian. Every insight, every example, every joke was directed at her.
Sienna.
And worse?
She laughed.
Not flirtatiously. Not unprofessionally. Just… easily.
Relaxed.
At ease in a way Julian hadn't seen before.
He didn't like it.
And he really didn't like how much he didn't like it.
It was irrational, he told himself. She was playing a role. They both were.
But watching her smile at another man like that?
It was a razor under his collar.
⸻
After the Meeting
As soon as the room emptied, Julian closed the boardroom door behind him.
Sienna was gathering her notes, pretending not to notice the tension radiating off him like heat from asphalt.
"Dayo likes to talk," she said casually.
Julian crossed his arms. "He likes to flirt."
"Is that what you call it?"
He said nothing.
She looked up, met his eyes.
"Are you… jealous?"
The word hung in the air, wild and unbelievable.
Julian scoffed. "Of Sanni? Please."
"Because it kind of felt like you wanted to throw your tumbler at him when he asked for my number."
"He asked for your number?"
She smirked. "So you were listening."
"I was observing," he said sharply.
Her smile faded.
"What's the matter, Julian?" Her voice was soft now, almost serious. "Worried the fake girlfriend might get real attention?"
He looked at her. Really looked.
At the defiance in her chin. The challenge in her eyes. And underneath all of it… vulnerability.
"You're mine," he said before he could stop himself.
The words slammed into the air between them.
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I mean—for the contract. For the plan. You're with me, publicly. That's the arrangement."
She straightened slowly. "Right. Of course. Wouldn't want your assistant tarnishing the fantasy."
Julian stepped closer.
One pace. Two.
"Is that what this is to you?" His voice dropped. "A fantasy?"
Her breath caught.
Because the space between them was suddenly too small. His cologne—cedar and coffee and skin—was intoxicating. His gaze darkened, sharp but hungry. Like he was toeing a line and didn't care.
"Don't flatter yourself," she whispered, even though her pulse betrayed her.
He leaned down, almost to her ear.
"You have no idea how flattering I could be if I stopped pretending."
Sienna's eyes widened. Her mouth parted—but the door creaked open, and just like that, the spell snapped.
Tina from PR peeked in. "Julian? You're needed upstairs."
He didn't move. Just stared.
Sienna gathered her notes with shaking fingers and slipped out of the room before he could say anything else.
⸻
That Evening – Julian's POV
Back in his penthouse, Julian poured himself two fingers of scotch and stared out at the city skyline. The glass was cold against his palm. The tension in his jaw wouldn't quit.
He should be focused on work. On the board's next move. On the IPO expansion.
Instead, all he could think about was Dayo.
And Sienna's laugh.
And how it made him feel like someone had reached inside his chest and twisted.
She was supposed to be a chess piece. A partner in PR crime. A solution.
But tonight… all he could think about was her eyes flashing when she called him jealous. The way she stood her ground. The way her scent clung to the air after she walked away.
Julian downed the drink and cursed under his breath.
This wasn't part of the plan.
He was falling into dangerous territory.
And he had a feeling Sienna was already two steps ahead.