Maya’s POV
“So, how’s my Maya Papaya doing today?”
The voice came from behind just as the elevator doors slid shut. I didn’t even need to turn. That playful tone? That smooth confidence? Only one man in this building had the audacity to use that nickname and make it sound like a compliment.
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled softly. “I’m doing good, Alex.”
Alex Sterling leaned casually against the mirrored wall, one hand tucked into his gray tailored slacks, the other adjusting his dark blue tie. His perfectly tousled brown hair looked like it belonged in a cologne commercial, and those hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, like he already knew what you were going to say before you did. He smelled like cedarwood and expensive ambition.
If Noah Sterling was ice—sharp suits, sharper tongue, and eyes like they were carved from steel—then Alex was warmth and charm bottled into six feet of charisma.
“You’re always doing good,” Alex said with a grin. “Even when this office doesn’t deserve you.”
I laughed under my breath. “Tell that to Janice. She thinks I’m some kind of walking scandal.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Janice is bitter. Don’t take it personally. You’re good at what you do, Maya. That intimidates people.”
I shifted slightly, uncomfortable under the compliment. “Well… thanks. That means a lot.”
There was a pause, the elevator humming softly as we passed the 9th floor.
“So…” he began, drawing out the word like a secret. “I heard my dear half-brother is in desperate need of a content specialist for his new campaign.”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
He raised a brow, clearly amused. “He fired the last one, didn’t he? Big drama. Said she didn’t understand ‘his vision.’”
“I mean… I helped him with one task last week,” I said slowly. “But I didn’t know I was assigned to the whole project.”
“Well, I heard him talking about it in the boardroom yesterday.” Alex looked at me closely. “You might be his new go-to.”
Go-to? My throat tightened.
I started fidgeting with the hem of my blouse, smoothing it down over my skirt. “I… I really don’t want to work with him.”
Alex chuckled, but his tone was soft. “Don’t be scared. Noah’s all bark, no bite. Trust me. He just pretends he doesn’t feel anything.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how.
Because with Noah… I always felt like a bug under a microscope. Like he was analyzing me and finding me unworthy.
And I never knew why.
The elevator dinged on my floor, and I stepped out.
“I’ll see you around, Maya Papaya,” Alex called behind me, winking as the doors closed again.
I exhaled, but the relief was short-lived.
The moment I turned the corner, I saw her.
Janice, with her malicious grin and a voice sweetened only by malice. “The board sends you to Noah’s office,” she said, leaning against the water cooler like a smug villainess in a soap opera.
I didn’t say a word. Just swallowed the panic rising in my throat and kept walking.
My hands were shaking, and I hated it. Hated how fast my heart raced at the thought of seeing him.
Noah Sterling.
Every encounter with him made me shrink. It wasn’t just the insults—it was how his words stayed. How he never looked at me like a person. Just a problem.
I reached his door and paused, smoothing my blouse for the tenth time that morning. My reflection in the glass showed a girl trying to look like she belonged here. But I didn’t feel like I did. Not in this office. Not in this skin.
Maybe it was because my dad left when I was five.
He never told me I was beautiful. Never told me I mattered. And somehow, I spent my life needing to hear those words—from anyone—just to feel real.
I knocked, gently.
“Come in.”
His voice was sharp, precise, like the edge of a blade.
I stepped inside, my heart punching my ribs.
Noah was sitting behind his sleek, black desk, tie loosened slightly, brows furrowed as he scanned a document. He didn’t even glance up at first.
Then he did.
And that look—the slow sweep of his eyes from my heels to my hair—felt like being stripped bare under a microscope.
His lips curled.
“Oh please,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I cannot believe I’ll be working with the office slut.”
The words hit me like a slap.
I blinked, frozen. My breath caught. Every nerve in my body tensed like I’d just been exposed, humiliated. The room felt ten degrees colder.
“I—” My voice faltered. “I’m not—”
He scoffed. “Save it. I don’t need theatrics. I need results. This project’s too important to let some pretty distraction ruin it.”
Pretty distraction.
That’s all I was to him. Pretty. Not smart. Not capable. Not worthy. Just… a distraction.
I clenched my hands at my sides, forcing myself not to cry. Not in front of him.
“Where do you want me to start?” I asked quietly, keeping my voice steady even though everything inside me was breaking.
Noah didn’t answer right away. Just looked at me, jaw tight. Like he wasn’t sure why I was still standing there.
Finally, he tossed a folder across the desk.
“Revise the campaign content. I want your draft by noon tomorrow. No excuses. And don’t wear perfume next time. It’s distracting.”
I picked up the folder with trembling fingers.
“Understood.”