"Walking into Ceil Enterprises wasn't just about getting a job. It was about proving something—to the world, to myself. They didn't know me. They didn't know what I had survived, what I had done to stand here today. And maybe that was for the best."
THE FIRST IMPRESSION OF CEIL ENTERPRISES...
As Velena stepped into Ceil Enterprises, she expected just another corporate firm—polished floors, glass walls, people in stiff suits pretending to be important
What she didn't expect was the sheer power this place radiated.
The air was thick with unspoken authority, the kind that made even the most arrogant men walk carefully. This wasn't just an office; it was a fortress.
Security cameras monitored every movement. Guards stood near the elevators, their sharp eyes scanning everyone who entered.
This wasn't just a company—it was a kingdom where only the worthy belonged.
Velena's fingers tightened around her bag strap.
"A place like this only hires the best. Good thing I am."
She walked toward the reception, her heels clicking against the pristine marble floor. A woman in a sharp gray suit looked up at her.
"Miss Velena Nikolayevich?"
"Damn, hearing my full name still feels strange."
"Yes."
"You're late."
A sharp pause. Velena's jaw tightened slightly.
"I know. And I don't make it a habit."
The woman's expression remained unreadable. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something through her earpiece. Then she nodded.
"Proceed to conference room 4D. The CEO wants to oversee your interview personally."
Velena blinked. The CEO??
"Wait. The CEO? Why the hell is some old, overworked businessman wasting his time on one random applicant?"
Something didn't feel right.
But she wasn't about to back down.
THE MOMENT CEIL WALKS IN...
The conference room was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline. Velena settled into one of the chairs, her heartbeat steady.
"Calm. Confident. I've faced worse."
The door clicked open. Footsteps—slow, calculated. The air shifted, as if the temperature had dropped a few degrees.
She turned her head.
And froze.
For a second, her mind went completely blank.
The man who stepped inside wasn't some old corporate head in a gray suit.
He was young—maybe in his late 20s. Tall, his sculpted figure perfectly fitted in an all-black suit that screamed expensive and custom-made.
Sharp jawline. Cold, piercing eyes. Hair a perfect mix of neat and effortlessly tousled—as if he could ruin it with one hand and still look like perfection.
His presence was commanding, intimidating, and completely unshaken.
Velena had met dangerous men before. But Ceil Blackthorn? He was something else.
And worst of all?
He was staring right at her.
"Damn."
THE INTERVIEW BEGINS—WITH AN UNEXPECTED TWIST...
Ceil took his seat across from her, not breaking eye contact even once.
He didn't look at her résumé. Didn't ask basic questions. Nothing about this was normal.
"Velena Nikolayevich," he said smoothly, his deep voice almost too calm. "Tell me, how does a woman with no official work experience, no references, and a history of disappearing for long periods expect to work here?"
Velena's breath hitched slightly.
"He knows."
She had carefully built a profile, ensuring her background looked clean. But Ceil had found the gaps.
Still, she wouldn't let him see that he had rattled her.
She smirked. "Because I'm good at what I do."
A ghost of amusement flickered in his eyes.
"And what exactly do you do?"
Velena leaned forward slightly, matching his intensity.
"I solve problems. I find weaknesses. And I make sure no one ever finds mine."
A long pause.
Then Ceil smirked, but it wasn't one of amusement. It was the kind of smirk that meant he knew something she didn't.
"What the hell is he playing at?"
A QUESTION THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING...
Ceil leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly against the table.
Then, his next words hit like a gunshot.
"So, tell me, what exactly happened in Vladivostok... five years ago?"
Blood drained from her face.
Her fingers curled into her lap, but she kept her expression perfectly unreadable.
"How the hell does he know that?"*
No one in Osaka should have known about her past in Russia. Her records were clean, her name buried, her tracks wiped.
Yet here he was—digging into places no one should be able to reach.
Velena forced a calm breath. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Ceil tilted his head slightly, like a predator observing its prey
"Really? Then you won't mind if I ask a few specific things... about De-Salavia?"
A sharp ringing filled her ears.
The gang. Her gang.
Her past wasn't just catching up to her.
It was standing right in front of her, dressed in a tailored black suit, and staring her down like he already knew the truth.
And for the first time in years, Velena felt trapped.