Addison's first impression of Justin Ross was not what she had expected.
She had seen the photos—the glossy magazine spreads showcasing his multimillion-dollar business empire, the hard angles of his face always framed by the latest fashion trends, the cool, effortless confidence that dripped from every well-curated social media post. But seeing him in person was different.
He didn't walk into the room like a man used to being admired. No, Justin Ross stormed in with the kind of self-assurance that made Addison feel as though the very air around him was bending to his will.
She was unpacking the last of his luggage in the villa's enormous master suite when he appeared at the door, his gaze flicking over her with an impatience that bordered on irritation.
"Is this the kind of service I'm expected to get?" Justin's low and commanding voice echoed off the walls. He didn't even bother to look at her properly—he was too busy scanning the room, as if mentally redesigning it. "I asked for a king-sized bed, not this." He gestured to the enormous four-poster bed with a flick of his fingers, "Whatever this is."
Addison forced a calm breath, the weight of his dismissive tone making her spine stiffen.
"I can assure you, Mr. Ross, this is a king-sized bed," she said, keeping her voice steady. Her eyes didn't meet his, instead focusing on finishing the task at hand. She had unpacked his clothes, set out his toiletries, and now only had a few personal items left to arrange.
His eyes narrowed, and she felt the silent judgment in the air as he assessed her. "You don't look like someone who should be handling my bags," he muttered.
Addison glanced up for the briefest second, meeting his gaze. There was something cutting in his eyes—a sharpness that seemed to assess every detail, every flaw. He looked her over like she was an inconsequential detail, like she was part of the background. She had been around enough arrogant people to recognize that he was already making up his mind about her, and the verdict wasn't good.
"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you," she said dryly, her patience stretching thinner than she liked to admit. She turned back to the task, trying to ignore the sudden unease creeping up her throat. "I wasn't aware that luggage handling was beneath you."
She didn't mean to snap, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
Justin, seemingly unphased, smirked—barely a twitch of his lips. "You don't know what you're dealing with, do you?" His voice held a condescension that she hadn't yet become accustomed to. It was like he didn't just see her as an assistant—he saw her as a pawn.
Addison straightened, her own breath catching in her chest. "I'm here to help, Mr. Ross. That's what I'm paid to do. If there's anything else you need, I'll be happy to assist."
She didn't wait for him to respond but moved to the next part of her task, carefully unpacking the last of the toiletries. She heard him mutter something under his breath about not needing help but had no intention of acknowledging it.
As she arranged the neatly pressed shirts and suits on the hanger, she tried to push down the rising resentment. This wasn't her world, and she knew it. She was just trying to survive it.
"I'll need the presentation to be ready in an hour," Justin continued, this time louder, more purposeful. "Make sure it's perfect." His gaze shifted to Pete, who had entered the room quietly behind him, moving with a slight limp. The crutches, tucked under his arm, gave him away. "And you—" Justin paused, his tone taking on a patronizing edge, "how are you planning to contribute today with that broken leg of yours?"
Pete's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. His frustration was palpable, but he was careful to keep his composure.
"I'm still good to work, Justin," Pete said through gritted teeth. "I'll handle logistics. Just need a little more time."
Justin, clearly unimpressed, waved him off. "Time isn't something I have, Pete. So get to it."
Addison watched her brother, his back stiff with effort as he limped out of the room, clearly struggling to keep up with Justin's ruthless pace. She felt a sharp tug of sympathy for him, but she couldn't let herself be distracted. She had her own battles to face.
As Justin turned his attention back to her, his eyes cold and calculating, Addison braced herself. The villa felt more like a cage than a luxury escape, and she was trapped inside it with the very man who had become the embodiment of everything she despised.
The next few hours blurred into a series of demands and inconveniences, none of which she had expected when Pete had first asked her to join him. She barely had time to think as she rushed around, fetching coffee, rearranging Justin's schedule, sorting through papers, and making sure everything was perfect—just as Justin had ordered.
The tension in the air thickened with every passing minute. It wasn't just Justin's attitude—it was his overwhelming presence, the way he seemed to take up every inch of space around him, demanding attention. Addison had seen entitled people before, but he was different. He wasn't simply entitled—he was arrogant in a way that bordered on cruel, expecting the world to bend to his will.
By the time evening rolled around, Addison had barely had time to sit down. She was in the villa's kitchen now, preparing a simple meal for herself, when Justin walked in, flanked by a few of his executives.
"Is the kitchen staff here yet?" he barked.
Addison glanced over at him, her frustration inching up her spine. "They should be here soon, Mr. Ross."
"Soon isn't good enough. I need everything perfect." His eyes locked onto hers for a moment. "I'm not paying for mediocrity, Addison. Don't forget your place."
Addison fought the urge to snap back, to tell him where he could shove his condescending attitude. She knew better than to engage. Still, she couldn't help but feel a flash of irritation flare up within her.
"I'll take care of it," she said tightly, keeping her gaze fixed on the counter.
As she finished plating her meal in silence, she could hear the conversation from the other room. Justin's voice was the loudest, dominating everything around him. The others—his subordinates—barely spoke up, only nodding in agreement. It was a strange, suffocating silence that settled over the house.
Addison knew that she was walking a fine line. Pete needed her to stay in Justin's good graces, but it was becoming more difficult by the hour. She was learning, slowly but surely, that in Justin Ross's world, everyone existed to serve his needs—and if they failed to meet those demands, they were forgotten just as easily as they had been noticed.
She had no choice but to survive. To keep her head down. To do whatever was necessary to keep her brother's job intact.
But something inside her—a small, stubborn voice—refused to let go of the frustration that simmered beneath the surface. She had to find a way to navigate this world, to take control of her own destiny here, without losing who she was.
But for now, she would wait. Because Justin Ross hadn't yet learned that some people didn't bend so easily.