"Mr. Falcone." I whipped around to face him directly. "Since you're here, I've got things to say to you, too."
Enzo raised an eyebrow slightly, regarding me with mild curiosity. He didn't interrupt.
"Do you know what your company's really like?" My voice shook, but I forced it louder. "All you care about is efficiency and results. You've turned this place into a heartless machine! Everyone's spinning, spinning until they break, then you throw them out and slot in someone new to keep spinning."
I gained momentum, wanting to unleash every frustration from the past year.
"Your employees work twelve-plus hours a day! We barely get days off, can't take sick leave, can't complain! Because if anyone shows the slightest dissatisfaction, the next day their keycard's deactivated!"
The office went dead silent. Even breathing seemed audible.
"You know why people like Hans run wild? Because you created this environment. Your iron fist made every manager copy you. You don't treat people like people, so they don't either. Your company's rotten top to bottom, Mr. Falcone. And you're standing at the peak watching it all happen, doing nothing."
I was done.
The entire floor felt muted, coworkers' faces showing terror and disbelief. Hans's mouth formed an O. His eyes held something like pity—genuine belief that I'd lost my mind.
Enzo's expression didn't change. He'd listened to every word quietly, those black eyes never leaving my face.
The suffocating silence lasted about five seconds. Then the man at the top finally spoke.
"Your feedback has merit." His tone was infuriatingly calm, like I'd just read a quarterly report instead of publicly calling him out. "Come to my office. We'll discuss this properly."
Enzo's gaze swept the room. "Anyone else with complaints about my management, feel free to join us."
Nobody moved. Everyone looked down, pretending to type, pretending to read files, pretending to be plants again.
Enzo turned toward the elevator, expensive shoes striking a steady rhythm on the floor. He didn't check if I was following, simply assumed I would.
And I did.
What did someone with three months left have to fear? I grabbed my bag and followed Enzo under everyone's stunned stares, stepping into the executive elevator only he had access to.
The doors closed behind me. Reality started seeping back in. My body stiffened inch by inch.
I stood at the back of the elevator. Enzo faced away, one hand casually in his pocket. His tall frame blocked most of the light. Just standing there, he radiated crushing pressure. The air felt thinner.
Belated fear trickled down my spine like ice water.
I'd heard rumors about this man. The Falcone family's business went beyond jewelry—a massive commercial empire, with whispers of shadowy connections. Rumors were just rumors, but right now, trapped in an enclosed space with someone like this, the back of my head prickled.
Soft elevator lighting cast sharp shadows across Enzo's profile. Hisexpression stayed cold, unreadable. I started catastrophizing. Would he tear into me? Or have someone throw me off the top floor?
Lost in spiraling thoughts, the elevator lights suddenly died.
Then came violent shaking. The entire car lurched like something had grabbed it, then let go. I lost balance completely, flailing in the darkness, finally grabbing the only thing within reach.
Enzo's belt.
Chapter Two
Chloe
My fingers hooked onto that belt like a lifeline, the metal buckle digging into my palm, but I wouldn't let go. I was on my knees, position humiliating as hell, face practically buried against his waist.
The elevator's final lurch sent me pitching forward. My forehead slammed into his inner thigh. Hard.
A sharp intake of breath cut through the darkness.
