Seduced By His Touch

CHAPTER ONE: The Ghost in the Pile

"Come in," Leo grunted. He rubbed the base of his skull, trying to massage away a headache that felt like a localized earthquake.

The door creaked. Precious, his lead secretary, walked in balancing a stack of manila folders that looked heavy enough to cause a back injury. She gave him that look again—the one people usually save for car crash survivors.

"Resumes for the PA spot, Mr. Joe," she said, dropping the pile onto his mahogany desk with a heavy thud. "I weeded out the disasters. These are the ones who actually have a shot. If you greenlight them, I'll have HR set up interviews for Thursday."

Leo leaned back, his chair groaning under his weight. "What happened to the people from yesterday?"

"Most of them couldn't handle the pace, sir," Precious said, her voice dry. "And after your last assistant walked out mid-shift because of a breakup? Yeah, I focused on 'stability' this time."

"Stability," Leo repeated with a huff. "Three years of work, then she vanishes because some guy named Trevor found a new hobby? Women, man. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t survive the office without ‘em."

Precious gave him a tight, professional smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I’m sure your soulmate-assistant is in that pile. I’ll leave you to it."

"Thanks," Leo muttered.

As the door clicked shut, he stared at the folders. He knew he was a control freak—you don't build a multi-million dollar empire from a basement laptop by being "chill." He didn't trust HR. He needed someone who wouldn't crumble the second he raised his voice.

He flipped through the first few. Mary Jackson: Good, but boring. Move to 'maybe.' The next three: Garbage. One had a two-year gap labeled "finding myself," and another thought a PA was just a fancy word for a TikTok manager.

He paused at a guy named White Queens. Solid experience. Five years in corporate. At least a guy won't quit because his girlfriend dumped him, Leo thought, tossing it into the 'yes' pile.

Then he reached the last folder. He flipped it open and the air left his lungs like he’d been punched in the gut.

Amara Denz.

"No way," he whispered. His heart started thumping against his ribs, loud and erratic. "What the f**k?"

He stared at the name. It couldn't be her. The universe wasn't that cruel. But as he looked at the attached photo, the sterile office walls seemed to bleed away, replaced by the drafty, snobbish hallways of Lyons College fifteen years ago.

He saw her. The girl with the "old money" glow. Back then, her family owned half the city. Leo? Leo was the scholarship kid from the wrong side of the tracks, wearing hand-me-downs that his mom tried to iron the "poor" out of.

He remembered the day he’d first snapped at her. “All that money and you bought those pants?” he’d sneered in the hall. His friends had roared with laughter. He’d felt