Chapter 93: Chapter 92: She Survived The First Day
ARIA’S POV
The next four hours passed in a blur of frantic work.
Aria pulled up file after file on European markets, her eyes scanning data until they burned. Brexit impact assessments. German manufacturing regulations. French consumer trends. Italian distribution networks. Spanish labor laws.
Every country had different rules, different markets, different challenges. And Damien wanted comprehensive analysis of all of it.
By my deadline. Tonight. 8 PM.
Around her, the office moved through its normal rhythms. Phone calls and meetings and the constant hum of productivity. People took coffee breaks, chatted by the water cooler, left for lunch.
Aria didn’t move from her desk.
At noon, Emma from marketing stopped by. "Hey, lunch break. Want to grab something from the cafeteria?"
"I can’t. I have a deadline."
"On your first day? That’s brutal." Emma’s expression was sympathetic. "At least let me bring you something. You can’t work on an empty stomach."
Aria wanted to refuse....didn’t deserve kindness when she’d failed so spectacularly. But her mother’s voice echoed: Promise me you’ll eat.
"Okay. Thank you. Anything is fine."
Emma returned twenty minutes later with a sandwich and soup from the executive dining room. "On the house. Perks of working on this floor."
Aria ate mechanically, her eyes never leaving her computer screen. The food tasted like nothing. She barely registered swallowing.
Through the glass walls of his office, she could see Damien. Also working. Also not eating. Just endless phone calls and meetings and the focused intensity he brought to everything.
He looked up once, caught her watching, and raised an eyebrow.
She immediately returned to her work, her cheeks burning.
Stop watching him. Focus.
At 2:45 PM, her desk phone rang.
"Aria Chen."
"It’s Jennifer. Mr. Blackwood wants his 3 PM coffee. Make sure it’s ready on time."
The call ended before Aria could respond.
She checked the time. 2:47. Thirteen minutes.
She saved her work and hurried to the break room, grateful for the excuse to move. Her back ached from sitting. Her eyes burned from staring at screens.
The coffee machine was already familiar now. Black, no sugar, 180 degrees. She could do this in her sleep.
While it brewed, another assistant joined her....a man in his twenties, polished and confident.
"You’re the new one," he said, not unkindly. "For Blackwood."
"Yes. Aria."
"Mark. I assist the CFO." He pulled out his own coffee pod. "Surviving your first day?"
"Barely."
"That’s normal. Blackwood is...." He paused, choosing words carefully. "Demanding. But fair. If you can handle the pressure, it’s the best position in the company. You’ll learn more in six months with him than six years anywhere else."
"If I last six months."
Mark’s smile was rueful. "Yeah. That’s the trick, isn’t it? Lasting."
Coffee ready, Aria carried it carefully back to her desk. 2:58 PM. Perfect timing.
She knocked on Damien’s office door.
"Come in."
He was on a video call, camera on, speaking with what sounded like investors in Asia. He gestured for her to set the coffee down without interrupting his conversation.
"....the timeline is aggressive but achievable. We’ll have the Tokyo office operational by Q2... Yes, I’m confident in the projections... Excellent. I’ll have my team send over the updated figures by end of week."
Aria set down the coffee and turned to leave.
"Ms. Chen, wait one moment." Damien’s voice stopped her.
She froze. He was still on camera. Everyone on that call could see her now.
"Gentlemen, this is Aria Chen, my new personal assistant. She’ll be your point of contact for all scheduling and coordination related to the Tokyo expansion. Ms. Chen, please introduce yourself."
Her heart hammered. She moved into frame, smiled professionally. "Hello. I look forward to working with you on this project."
Polite nods from the faces on screen. Then Damien smoothly transitioned back to business, and Aria was dismissed with a small gesture.
She left his office, her mind reeling.
He’d just put her in front of major investors. On her first day. After she’d already failed once.
Was it a test? A vote of confidence? A setup for another failure?
She didn’t know.
Back at her desk, she tried to refocus on the European analysis. But her concentration was shot. Every few minutes, something interrupted.
Phone calls: "Mr. Blackwood’s office, how may I help you?"
Emails: routing messages, flagging urgent items, forwarding what needed his attention.
Visitors: "Is Mr. Blackwood available?" "Do you have a moment to check his calendar?"
People requesting meetings, asking questions, needing decisions. All of it funneling through her desk.
This was what it meant to be his assistant. The gatekeeper. The filter. The person who managed the chaos so he could focus on running an empire.
And she was drowning.
At 4 PM, her phone buzzed. A text from her mother.
How’s your first day, baby girl? Are you eating? Are you okay?
Aria typed back quickly: It’s intense but I’m managing. Can’t talk now. Will call tonight. Love you.
Love you too. Be strong.
She set the phone down and returned to work.
By 5 PM, the office started emptying out. People packing up, calling goodbyes, heading to the elevators. The 47th floor gradually grew quieter.
By 6 PM, it was mostly deserted. Just a few workaholics in distant offices, their lights still on.
And Aria. And Damien.
She could see him through the glass walls, still working. Still on calls. Still utterly focused.
He hadn’t eaten anything. Hadn’t taken a break. Just coffee and relentless productivity.
They were both destroying themselves. Just in different ways.
At 6:30, Aria’s vision started blurring. She’d been staring at screens for over ten hours. Her back screamed in protest. Her head pounded.
But she was almost done. Just two more country analyses and the conclusion section.
She pushed through the pain, typing steadily, fighting exhaustion.
The European analysis was good now. Comprehensive. Detailed. Everything it should have been the first time.
At 7:45 PM, she printed the complete briefing. Twenty-eight pages. Every section thorough. Every detail verified.
She read through it one last time, checking for typos, for gaps, for anything that could trigger another failure.
It was solid. Professional. Exactly what he’d asked for.
At 7:58 PM, she walked to his office and knocked.
"Come in."
Damien was still at his desk, reviewing something on his computer. He looked tired....the first real sign of human exhaustion she’d seen from him all day.
"The briefing," she said, setting it carefully on his desk. "Complete European analysis. Country breakdowns. Brexit impacts. Regulatory environment. Competitive landscape. Everything you requested."
He picked it up without looking at her. Started reading.
Aria stood there, swaying slightly with exhaustion, while he read in silence.
Page after page. No reaction. No comment.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he set it down.
"Better. Much better." His eyes met hers. "This is what I expected the first time."
Not quite praise. But approval. Recognition that she’d corrected her mistake.
"Thank you, sir."
"The Tokyo investor call went well. They were impressed with your professionalism."
"I’m glad."
"You handled the interruptions today well. The constant phone calls, the scheduling conflicts, the unexpected tasks. You didn’t complain."
"That’s my job."
"Yes. It is." He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You look exhausted."
"I’m fine."
"You’re swaying on your feet. When’s the last time you ate a full meal?"
The question caught her off guard. "Lunch. Sarah brought me a sandwich."
"And before that?"
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t remember.
Damien’s jaw tightened. "You’re no good to me if you collapse from malnutrition, Aria. Part of your job is maintaining your health."
"I said I’m fine."
"And I say you’re not." He stood, moved around the desk. "But that’s a discussion for another day. You can go home now."
Relief flooded through her. "Thank you."
As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.
"Aria."
She turned back. "Yes?"
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Something that looked almost like concern. Almost like the man she’d fallen in love with.
Then it was gone.
"You did well today. For your first day."
The words were simple. But they landed like a lifeline.
"Thank you, sir."
"Same time tomorrow. 7:45 AM."
"I’ll be here."
"I know you will." His eyes held hers. "Good night, Aria."
The way he said her name....not Ms. Chen, not his assistant, but Aria....made her chest tight.
"Good night, Damien."
She gathered her things from her desk, her hands shaking with exhaustion and emotion. Around her, the 47th floor was empty except for the cleaning crew just arriving.
The elevator ride down felt endless. Aria leaned against the wall, letting it support her weight, and closed her eyes.
Day one. She’d survived day one.
Barely.
