No strings attached |(UNDER REVISION)

Chapter 5- Stalking her

I nearly scoffed. What a lie.

I glanced down at her resume-not because I needed to, but because I needed to look anywhere but at her. I skimmed over her qualifications, the impressive experience she had gathered, the promotions she had earned. She had done well for herself.

And yet, she was here. Sitting across from me.

I met her gaze again. "Tell me, Miss Dela Cruz. What would you do if you were asked to perform a task that required complete trust in your superior?"

She leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the desk. "That would depend."

"On what?"

"On whether my superior trusts me just as much."

My jaw tightened. I hated how easily she could slip into this game, how effortlessly she could turn words into something more than their surface meaning.

Because this wasn't just an interview.

This was a war.

And neither of us was willing to lose.

I kept my expression cool, collected. I wasn't going to give Mikha the satisfaction of knowing how much this unexpected encounter rattled me.

So, I did what I did best-I remained professional. I flipped through her resume, tapping my pen lightly on the desk. "What makes you think you're the best fit for this position?"

Mikha leaned back in her chair, her lips curving into a smirk. "Because I know what you like, Aiah."

My grip on the pen tightened. "Excuse me?"

"What I meant," she corrected, amusement dancing in her eyes, "is that I know how to anticipate what a boss needs before they even ask for it. I'm efficient, organized, and I handle pressure well."

I ignored the way she emphasized boss-as if the word held an entirely different meaning when it came to us.

I leaned forward, meeting her gaze with a sharp one of my own. "This job requires discipline, Dela Cruz. You'd have to be willing to follow my rules, without question."

She hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head. "I don't mind following orders... as long as they're delivered the right way."

I nearly scoffed. Typical Mikha. Always finding a way to turn things into a game.

"Can you handle discretion?" I asked, moving on.

Mikha nodded, her smirk deepening. "Of course. I can be very... discreet. I know how to keep secrets."

A sharp pang hit my chest, but I didn't let it show. Yeah? Like the way you kept the secret of leaving me until the very last second?

I exhaled slowly and flipped to the next page of her file. "You'd be dealing with high-profile clients, delicate negotiations, and sensitive company information. Can I trust you with that?"

Mikha leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "That depends, Miss Navarro. Can I trust you?"

My patience was wearing thin. "This isn't a game, Mikha."

"Who said it was?" she countered smoothly, her voice lower now, softer. "I'm just answering your questions... honestly."

I clenched my jaw. The way she was watching me-it was infuriating. Like she was testing me. Like she was enjoying this.