Beneath His Empire

Part 5 –

The rest of the day blurred into a frenzy of back-to-back meetings and fast-paced planning, but Lila felt like she was floating somewhere between exhilaration and panic.

Work directly with him.

Ethan Wolfe didn't work with people. He directed. He delegated. He commanded. And yet he'd chosen her.

By noon, the news had already made its rounds.

"You're working with him now?" one of the event coordinators whispered, half in awe, half in suspicion.

"Careful," another muttered. "That's how careers end or explode."

Lila smiled politely, but she could feel their eyes following her every move. She didn't blame them. Being pulled into the orbit of Ethan Wolfe was like flying too close to the sun you might feel warmth, but you risk the burn.

Still, she wasn't here to gossip or falter.

By 3:00 p.m., she had revised the Winter Gala design pitch, restructured the vendor plan, and prepared a new digital walkthrough for review. She pressed send and told herself not to check her inbox every five minutes.

Then, at exactly 3:07, her office phone buzzed.

"Mr. Wolfe would like you to join him on-site at the Langley Grand Ballroom. Now."

No subject line. No explanation. Just a command.

Lila grabbed her bag, nerves flaring again.

Langley Grand Ballroom – Upper East Side

The ballroom was even more magnificent in person. Vaulted ceilings. Art Deco moldings. Walls draped in ivory silk and tall glass windows that let in gold-dusted afternoon light.

And there he was.

Ethan Wolfe stood at the center of it all, hands in his pockets, talking quietly to a venue manager. He wore a charcoal suit sharp enough to wound and looked completely at home in this kingdom of elegance and money.

He glanced at her as she approached. One look. That was all. But it was enough to make her lungs forget their job.

"You're late," he said.

"It's fifteen minutes across town and your driver's idea of directions was, 'we'll wing it,'" she said, trying to sound calm.

He smirked. "I'll remind my driver you don't like improvisation."

"I'm a planner," she replied. "Chaos gives me hives."

Ethan turned away, pacing slowly through the space.

"Look around, Miss Monroe. This ballroom has hosted presidents. Royalty. Scandals the press never uncovered. And in two weeks, it will host our Winter Gala. I need it to be unforgettable."

Lila followed his gaze.

"It will be," she said. "But not because it's extravagant. Because it'll feel like something only you could've done. It'll be a statement."

He turned back to her, interest sparking in his storm-gray eyes.

"You think you know what kind of statement I want to make?"

"I'm learning."

"Then tell me."

She swallowed her nerves. "You don't want to impress people. You want to remind them why they can't ignore you."

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of chandeliers buzzing above them.

Then he stepped closer. Slowly. Intentionally.

"You're dangerous when you speak like that," he murmured.

Lila didn't move. "Is that a problem?"

"No," he said. "It's just… inconvenient."

Inconvenient.

Like something he couldn't quite control.

She realized suddenly how close they were. Inches apart. His eyes were darker in this light, stormier. Her breath caught, and for a second just a second she felt the heat between them shift into something charged. Something that had nothing to do with work.

She took a step back. Just one.

"I'll send the final layout revisions tonight."

"Good," he said, his voice quieter now. "But one more thing."

She looked up.

"Don't let this place change you," he said. "Don't become like them."

She blinked. "Why would you care?"

His jaw tensed. "Because I've seen what happens when people start chasing power and forget why they came here in the first place."

Lila studied him, heart thudding.

"You think I'm different."

He gave the smallest nod. "For now."

That night, as she collapsed onto her bed, her mind raced with blueprints and budgets but also with the memory of Ethan's words. His nearness. That look in his eyes.

This job had been a stepping stone. A six-month contract.

But now?

Now, it felt like she was balancing on a high wire and the wind was picking up.