Sophia stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the elegant black suit she had carefully chosen for her first job interview. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of applications, hopes raised and dashed, but finally, one had come through. A law firm downtown had offered her an interview, and it was the break she had been waiting for. She smoothed her hands over the fabric, which clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves in a way that was both sophisticated and provocative.
The tailored suit hugged her narrow waist, flaring slightly over her hips, a perfect fit that flaunted the feminine allure of her figure. Her bust, naturally generous, pressed against the fabric in a way that no amount of careful pinning or buttoning could fully contain. The top button of her blouse, just at the edge of modesty, hinted at the fullness beneath, and with every step, the gentle jiggle of her chest seemed to draw attention. She adjusted the collar and took a deep breath, her almond-shaped eyes scrutinizing her reflection. This was the outfit that would make a statement—not just of her beauty, but of her confidence and readiness for the next step in life.
"Alright, Sophia," she whispered to herself. "Today's the day."
With one final glance in the mirror, she grabbed her portfolio and headed out.
---
The elevator ride to the 24th floor felt longer than it should have. Her heart beat in rhythm with the soft hum of the machinery as the floors ticked by, one by one. When the doors slid open, the reception area of the law firm greeted her with sleek lines, modern art, and an air of professionalism. The receptionist, a thin-lipped woman with sharp glasses, barely glanced at her before motioning her toward a set of heavy doors at the end of the hall.
Inside, the office was just as grand. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged man, balding, with a sharp suit that looked expensive but worn. He smiled at her, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. There was something unsettling in the way he looked her up and down, lingering too long on her chest before meeting her gaze. She suppressed a shudder and forced a polite smile.
"Ms. Reid, please, have a seat," he said, his voice oozing a false friendliness.
The interview began normally enough—questions about her qualifications, her education, her ambitions. But as it progressed, his demeanor shifted, his eyes wandering more brazenly over her figure, the smirk on his lips growing. It wasn't long before the conversation veered into uncomfortable territory.
"You know," he said, leaning forward, "a young woman like you, with your… assets, could go far in this business. It's all about knowing how to... use what you've got."
Sophia's stomach turned, but she kept her composure. She had dealt with creeps before, but there was something about this man that made her skin crawl. His hand slid across the desk, fingers brushing her knee. Instinct kicked in before reason could stop her. Her hand shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising strength.
"What the—" he started, but his words were cut off by a sharp crack.
The sickening sound of bone snapping filled the room. The man screamed, his face contorting in agony as she twisted his wrist and shoved his hand away. Sophia stood abruptly, her breath coming in short, angry bursts. Without another word, she stormed out of the office, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
---
She was still fuming as she pushed through the glass doors of the building, her mind racing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. How could someone be so vile, so predatory? She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the figure walking toward her until it was too late.
She collided hard with someone, her body jolting backward, but strong hands caught her before she could fall. Sophia blinked, disoriented for a moment, before looking up into the face of the man who had stopped her fall.
He was younger than she expected, probably around her age, with messy blonde hair that seemed to have a life of its own. His bright blue eyes were wide with surprise, but there was a teasing spark in them, as though he found the entire situation amusing. His lean frame felt solid against her, and for a moment, she was acutely aware of how close they were, of how strange it felt to be in the arms of a complete stranger. Her heart raced, but not just from the fall. There was something… magnetic about him.
"Sorry about that," the man said quickly, his crooked smile doing little to hide his embarrassment as he let go of her.
Sophia's breath caught in her throat. She stood there for a moment, staring at him, not quite sure what to say. He had already taken a step back, hands raised in apology, as if unsure whether to help her further or disappear into the crowd.
"I should say sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but he was already turning to leave.
As he walked away, she found herself staring after him, a strange mix of curiosity and embarrassment bubbling inside her. It wasn't often that she found herself so affected by someone. Shaking her head, she tried to shake the feeling off, but the encounter lingered in her mind longer than she expected.
---
Meanwhile, the man who had caught her—an unknown figure to her but not to the world of secrets—continued on his way, his thoughts briefly caught on the woman he had nearly bowled over. He had never seen anyone quite like her. Not just her looks—though she was breathtaking, with a body that could make anyone stop in their tracks—but something else, something about her presence, her fierceness. He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. No time to be distracted, he thought.
The city hummed with the usual chaos of midday, and he moved through it with ease, slipping in and out of crowds as though he belonged to none of them. Despite the near run-in with the young woman, his mind quickly shifted back to the task at hand. He had an interview to attend—though not for a job in the traditional sense.
He reached the towering office building and entered, moving with quiet confidence. The receptionist waved him through without a second glance, and soon he found himself seated in a small, dimly lit office, waiting for his name to be called.
The door opened, and a man in a crisp suit glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. "Name?" he asked, his voice clipped and impatient.
The young man looked up, that crooked smile returning as he answered, "Theo Jensen."