The Devil Himself

Jake stopped in front of a massive wooden door, the name Ethan Carter etched in bold, silver letters. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and gestured for her to step inside.

“Elisa Taylor,” Jake announced formally, his voice echoing in the vast office.

Elisa barely registered the name. Her eyes were locked on the man standing by the window, his back to her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a sleek black suit that probably cost more than her rent for a year.

He turned slowly, and Elisa sucked in a breath.

Ethan Carter was even more intimidating in person. His sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce through her, his chiseled features set in a perpetual frown.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Elisa’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She couldn’t even process what was happening. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be her—the coffee shop waitress turned fake girlfriend turned… what was it again? Oh right, his fiancée.

“I… I....uh…” she stammered, her brain short-circuiting.

Ethan’s gaze narrowed. “Do you think I have time to wait around while you daydream?”

Her spine straightened instinctively. “I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t thinking at all,” he interrupted, his tone icy. He walked toward his desk, each step deliberate. “Miss Taylor, let me remind you of your role here. You’re here to support me, not waste my time. Understood?”

Elisa blinked, stunned. Oh, my God. He’s even worse than I wrote him.

Her pride kicked in before she could stop herself. “I’m not a mind reader, Mr. Carter. If you want something, maybe you should try being less vague about it.”

Jake, who was still standing by the door, visibly winced.

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Interesting,” he murmured. “I wasn’t aware you had a backbone.”

Elisa’s face flushed, but she bit her tongue. What was she supposed to do? Argue with her own fictional character? That will be insane..

Before she could respond, Ethan leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. “We’re done here. Jake, take her back to her office. And Miss Taylor?”

She looked up, her breath catching.

“Don’t test me again,” he said, his voice dripping with warning.

Elisa’s stomach sank as Jake motioned for her to follow him out. She felt the weight of Ethan’s gaze on her back until the door clicked shut behind her.

“What just happened?” she whispered to herself as they walked down the hallway.

Jake cleared his throat. “Mr. Carter can be… intense. But you’ve handled worse, haven’t you?”

Handled worse? Elisa wanted to laugh. She had written this entire world, but now it felt like she was the one completely out of control.

And if this was only the beginning, how on earth was she going to survive the rest of the story?

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