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swallowed up by the man who was striding onto the top floor of the building Dillard’s owned in Mayfair.
Mia tried not to make eye contact with Alessandro Costa, but she found she couldn’t stop looking at him. The photos on the internet didn’t do him justice, she realised with an uneasy pang of physical awareness. They didn’t communicate his intense energy, as if a force field surrounded him, as if he crackled.
Cropped dark hair, as black as midnight, framed a face that was all angles and hard lines, from his jaw to his nose to the dark slashes of brows over cold, steel-grey eyes. His body, tall and lethally powerful, was encased in a hand-tailored suit of dark grey silk, the silver tie at his throat matching the colour of his eyes. He made Mia think of a laser, or a sword…something powerful and lethal. A weapon.
He came onto the floor with its open-plan desks with quick, purposeful strides, his narrowed, hawk-like gaze moving in quick yet thorough assessment around the room, pinning people in place. It felt as if the very air trembled. Mia was afraid she did. Alessandro Costa was incredibly intimidating.
She knew everyone’s job was up for grabs, and most likely down the drain as well. In his last takeover, it had been rumoured that Costa had kept three employees out of forty. As personal assistant to the CEO, Mia knew her position would almost certainly be cut. Costa undoubtedly had his own executive assistant already in place, and as he didn’t seem likely to keep Dillard’s going as a separate entity, her job had most likely become obsolete last night, with the takeover.
Still, she was determined to try to do something to keep it. She’d been working for Dillard Investments since she was nineteen, fresh from a B Tech business course, bright-eyed and determined to make something of herself and, most importantly, to finally be independent.
All her childhood she’d been under the controlling thumb of her unbearably autocratic father, having to do as he said and dance to his tune, however discordant its notes. Her mother had been the same, cringing and hopeful in dispiriting turns, and Mia had vowed to gain her freedom as soon as she could—and never make the same kind of mistake her mother had, by marrying a charming yet controlling man…or any man at all.
So now, while Mia knew she could find another job, she resisted the prospect of being fired from this one for no good reason. She’d been here a long time, had worked hard, and had made a few friends along the way.
She might be likely to lose her job anyway, but she’d go down fighting. She had to, as points of both pride and principle.
Alessandro Costa had stopped in the centre of the room, his feet spread wide, his hands on his hips. He looked like the king of an empire, surveying his domain. Like something out of a fairy tale, except in a three-piece suit.
‘Who is Mia James?’ he asked, his voice slightly accented, the words crisp and precise as they echoed through the open space.
Mia felt every eye on the floor turn instinctively towards her. Like a child in school being called on by a teacher, she raised her hand, hoping her voice would come out strong.
‘I am.’ She might have overshot it, she realised; she sounded strident. Aggressive, even, to hide her nervousness.
Alessandro Costa’s eyes narrowed even further in appraisal, and his lips flattened into a hard line.
‘Come with me,’ he said, and walked into Henry Dillard’s office, the only private space on the floor, an elegant room with wood panelled walls and leather club chairs, tasteful oil paintings and heavy curtains. It felt like a gentleman’s club, or the study of an elegant townhouse, which it very well might once have been. Dillard’s offices were in a former home, although much of it had been gutted for desk space.
Costa strode towards the big, mahogany desk, inlaid with leather, that Henry had always sat behind while Mia had taken notes or dictation. Henry had been eccentrically old school; he’d only bought a laptop a few years ago, and he’d still depended on Mia to manage emails and spreadsheets, finding both quite beyond him, and not seeming to mind.
It gave her a pang now to think that was all over; Henry had retreated to his estate in Surrey, and Mia half wondered if she’d ever see him again. Last night, as he’d shuffled out of the office, his business in ruins around him, he’d seemed like an old, broken man, and it had wrung her heart right out. And it was this man’s fault.
Alessandro Costa stood behind Henry’s old desk, his hands placed flat on its surface, fingers spread wide, as he stared at her, his eyes magnetic, his body radiating barely suppressed energy. Although his expression was focused, it wasn’t unfriendly. He looked like a man intent on action, and it made Mia tense, something in her kicking up a notch, ready to respond.
‘I need you.’ Costa spoke the words matter-of-factly, but stupidly they made Mia’s heart skip a silly beat. He didn’t mean in that way, of course he didn’t. But perhaps he meant she might keep her job…
‘You…do?’
‘Yes, for the moment, at least.’ Costa straightened, his gaze surveying her with cool appraisal. ‘You’ve been Dillard’s PA for how long?’
‘Seven years.’
He nodded slowly. ‘And, as far as I can see, you were the plug on his life support.’
Mia blinked, absorbing the cruel bluntness of that statement. ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ she said quietly, although admittedly there was some truth in it. In reality, Henry Dillard would have been happy playing golf and letting the company his father had founded dwindle away to nothing. The company had been ripe for a takeover, even if he hadn’t seen it himself, and Mia had never let herself consider such a possibility.
‘Perhaps that’s a bit harsh,’ Costa allowed, ‘but Dillard himself admitted he was behind the times. Of course, many of his clients are, as well.’
‘Which begs the question why you took it over,’ Mia returned. Costa’s eyebrows rose as he kept her gaze, and something sparked to life in Mia, something she most certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge.
‘Yes, it does, doesn’t it?’ he remarked. ‘Fortunately that is not something you need to concern yourself with.’
And that was her, put firmly in her place. ‘Very well.’ She met his narrowed, steely gaze unflinchingly, although it cost her. Every time she looked at him she felt something in her spark and tingle in a way she definitely didn’t like. The man was intense and a little scary, but there was something that drew her to him as well—something in his fierce energy, his incredible focus. ‘So why do you need me?’ she asked, deciding that keeping things on track was her best bet.
‘I need you because I require your knowledge of Henry’s clients so I can deal with them appropriately. So as long as you prove useful…’
Which sounded like a barely veiled threat, or perhaps just a statement of fact. Mia couldn’t imagine Alessandro Costa putting up with anyone who wasn’t useful.
‘And when I don’t prove useful?’ she asked, although she had a feeling she didn’t want to know the answer.
‘Then you’ll be let go,’ Costa said bluntly. ‘I don’t keep useless employees. It’s bad business practice.’
‘What about the rest of the staff?’
‘Again, none of your concern.’
Wow. The man had no hesitation in being blunt, yet Mia didn’t sense any cruel relish in his words, just simple bare statements of fact, which she could appreciate, even if she didn’t like them.
In any case, needlessly sparring with Alessandro Costa was a fast track to being fired, and she wanted to keep her job. She needed to keep her job. It felt like the only thing she had.
‘All right.’ She straightened, tipping her chin up, determined to stay professional and match his focus. ‘What would you like me to do?’
Something silver flashed in Alessandro’s grey eyes; it almost looked