Seduced By His Touch

CHAPTER TWO: The Ghost in the Pile

Leo stared at the application photo, his head throbbing. The memory of her voice from fifteen years ago echoed in his skull, sharp as a razor.

"Because you’re nothing. You’re just a grunting pig," she’d whispered.

The worst part? She was right. He had been a monster to her back at Lyons College. He was the scholarship kid with the chipped tooth and the permanent chip on his shoulder, and she was the girl who owned the air he breathed. He’d spent years oinking at her in the halls just to hear his friends laugh—and to stop himself from crying because she didn’t even know his real name.

He looked at his mahogany desk, then at his hands. He’d worked himself to the bone to become a millionaire CEO by twenty-seven. He had the suits, the cars, and the power. But one look at Amara Denz turned him right back into that scrawny kid in hand-me-down jeans.

"Jesus, Leo. Get a grip," he muttered.

His body was reacting before his brain could. His heart was hammering, and he felt a sudden, sharp heat in his gut that was half-nostalgia and half-lust. He’d dated plenty of women, but they were all just placeholders. They weren't her.

He checked the name again. Amara Denz.

He’d changed his own name from Pluo to Joe the day he turned eighteen to ditch the ghost of his deadbeat father. If she saw the name "Leo Pluo" on the door, she’d probably jump out the window. But "Leo Joe"? To her, he was just another faceless suit.

He skimmed the resume, forcing himself to be professional. Her family’s bank had imploded years ago—a massive scandal that left them broke. She wasn't a "gilded girl" anymore; she was a survivor. She’d been grinding as a PA for tech start-ups, and her references were glowing.

He slid her file into the "Keep" pile. He’d let HR interview a few others to keep things looking legit, but the decision was already made. He needed to see her. He needed to show her he wasn't that jagged little jerk anymore.

The next morning, Leo stood by his floor-to-ceiling window, adjusting his cuffs. He felt like he was preparing for war.

"She’s here," his secretary, Precious, crackled over the intercom. "Ms. Denz is in the lobby."

"Send her up."

Leo turned as the elevator pinged. The doors slid open, and Amara walked in.

The air left the room. She was wearing a charcoal suit that looked like armor, her blonde hair pulled back tight. She looked like a goddess who had learned how to fight in the trenches.

She stopped in the middle of the office, her eyes scanning the room before they landed on him. Leo didn’t move. He watched the exact second the recognition hit her. Her eyes went wide, her breath hitched, and for a heartbeat, the "professional" mask shattered.

"You," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Leo leaned back against his desk, trying to look cooler than he felt. "Hello, Amara. It’s been a minute."

Amara gripped her briefcase until her knuckles turned white. "Leo Pluo?"

"It’s Joe now," he said. "But the rest is mostly the same."

"I... what the hell?" She took a half-step back toward the door. "The listing didn't have a photo. I wouldn't have stepped foot in this building if I’d known it was you."

"But you're here," Leo said, his voice dropping an octave. "And I’ve seen the court records, Amara. I know things are tight. I know you’re the only one taking care of your mother."

Amara flinched like he’d slapped her. "Are you serious? You brought me here just to rub it in? What’s next, Leo? You going to oink at me again? Make a few more pig jokes for old time's sake?"

The guilt hit him like a physical weight. "No," he said, stepping toward her. "I brought you here because you’re the best person for the job. And because I want to apologize."

Amara let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "An apology? After ten years? You’re a billionaire CEO, and you’re playing games with a girl who just needs a paycheck."

"I’m not playing," Leo insisted. "I was a piece of sh*t back then. I was a scholarship kid who hated that I couldn't get you to look at me. I wanted your attention, even if I had to be a monster to get it."

He looked her dead in the eye. "I’m tired of being the villain in your story, Amara. I want to make it right."

Amara stood frozen. The silence stretched until it felt like the walls were closing in. She looked at him—really looked at him—seeing the man instead of the bully.

"If I take this job," she said, her voice like ice, "it’s strictly business. No 'old times.' No 'Leo and Amara.' I’m the assistant, you’re the boss. That’s it."

Leo felt a pang of disappointment, but he nodded. "Deal."

He held out his hand. Amara hesitated, then reached out and took it. Her grip was firm, her skin warm. It sent a jolt through him that made his teeth ache.

"See you Monday, Mr. Joe," she said, turning on her heel and walking out.

Leo watched the door close, a slow, dark smile spreading across his face. She was back. And this time, he was going to make sure she never wanted to leave.