Twenty.

My legs are trembling as I approach his office. I'm a nervous wreck, and the moment I feel my foot snag on the rug, I scream as I stumble three steps forward before collapsing on my face.

I lay there wishing the ground would rip open and engulf me completely. To say I am overcome with embarrassment is an understatement and for the second time within an hour, Aydem Buraks expensive oxford dress shoes stand before me.

He extends his hand, indicating that I should accept it, and I do. I make a conscious effort to ignore the warmth of his hand as it devours mine. And while he assists me in rising to my feet, I am unable to look him in the eyes as I  express my gratitude.

"Thank you," I mumble in a whispering tone.

I take my hand away from his, running it down the front of my black pencil skirt, and inspect my shoes to ensure that the heel hasn't snapped. It was merely a little fall, but where I am concerned. Anything is possible.

"Well, that was quite the entrance." He chuckles as he takes the position he was in before I entered.

I'm aware of the heat of humiliation creeping across my cheeks and when I gain the courage to meet his gaze, he smirks at me. "I'm pretty sure I was born with two left feet." I sigh out loud trying to break the awkwardness that surges through me.

"Right," He rubs the side of his jaw with his hand as he pushes himself off the desk and walks around it. Sinking into his office chair. "Lütfen (please), sit." He motions towards the chair in front of his desk and I take a seat.

We sit in silence, the air between us is thick with curiosity and my eyes look around his office as I continue to evade making eye contact with him.

"How old are you?" His voice is hoarse, possibly amused but it is difficult to tell with his impassive expression.

"I am 24."

"Are you married or in a relationship?"

I straighten in my chair and my brows pinch together with his invasive question. "I'm sorry. But, what has my personal life outside of this building have anything to do with you?" I try to keep the tone of my voice polite.

"It's a simple question, Ms Cross. Evet or hayir?" (Yes or no?) A lopsided smirk spreads across his face, making him look devilishly tasty and I inwardly pinch myself to break the spell he's got me caught up in.

"It is a simple question, Mr Burak. But I'm still failing to see why it is any of your business."

"Everything that concerns you is my business as long as you are working under me." His voice turns cold and I have to remind myself why I am here.

'Get the job done and we can leave.' My inner Goddess whispers.

"No, I am not married, I have no boyfriend and you might as well say I have no life outside of these walls." I lie through the skin of my teeth. Because my whole world revolves around Sandro. Without him, my life is meaningless.

"Iyi (good). This implies you will have no excuse for being late or for being unable to stay late when required. If you are unable to keep up and complete the tasks that I require of you, you will be escorted from the building, and you can also forget about receiving a favourable recommendation from me." He says matter of a factly leaving no room for argument.

He stands from his chair, smoothing his suit and checks his watch for the time. "When you join me to meetings, I expect you to take meticulous notes. You will be seated across the table from me, visible but unheard unless requested to speak. Am I extremely clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Iyi," (Good) "We have a meeting in two minutes, gather your things and meet me out in the reception area and we will walk there together." He makes his way towards the door, holding it open for me and as I enter my office to grab my belongings. The aroma of his scent lingers in the air.

As I make my way towards the receptionist's desk. I notice him in the corner, his phone is pressed against his ear and as if he can sense my arrival.

He turns around in the midst of a conversation and his gaze lands on me with an unfathomable expression on his face and fine creases etched into his complexion.

Our eyes remain locked together, and after a few heartbeats, I manage to tear my gaze away from his.

I swipe across the screen of my phone, bringing up my photo gallery, and begin scrolling through the images I have of Sandro. A sad smile spreads across my face as I begin to wonder how he is doing and what new milestone he will accomplish without my presence.

"Oh, he's absolutely scrumptious!" A feminine voice screeches unexpectedly in my ear.

I jump with fright, catching my phone as it slips through my fingers, and spin around to confront the individual who just about caused me a heart attack.

"Thank you." I smile when I realise the voice belongs to the receptionist. "My friends call me C.C." I extend my hand out towards her.

"People around here call me Akira." She places her hand in mine and shakes it.

She is of mixed ethnicity, undoubtedly Asian, and rather beautiful. Her sloe eyes are a warm brown colour with green specks that are quite inviting. Her lips are naturally full and deep plum in colour, complementing her heart-shaped face.

"That is such a gorgeous and unique name," I compliment her as I tip my head to the side once more to admire the pastel-coloured streaks in her hair.

"Thanks, it means bright and intelligent. But, forget about me." She waves her hand in the air. "What I'm really curious to know is, does that scrumptious little creature belong to you?"

"Yes-"

"I was not notified, Ms Cross, that you have a child." The sound of his smoky unforgiving voice flows over me.

Reminding me that while I am here, under my alias identity. I have no child.

I turn around and face him. "I was about to say, 'Yes, he is my nephew.'" I tug on my left earlobe, a habit everyone knows I have when I lie.

He stands there silently staring at me with a scowl on his face. His Emerald green eyes scrutinise me, and I gradually become anxious, fearing he will see right through me.

"Would it be an issue, Mr Burak, if I did have a child?" I dare to enquire, intrigued to know his response.

"Evet (Yes), Miss Cross," His lips purse briefly as he considers carefully. "How are you going to give me your full attention if you're too preoccupied with someone else?" He concludes with a cocked brow.

I exhale loudly in irritation as he sounds like a self-righteous jerk. "I was unaware I was also signing up to be your mother, Mr Burak." I grit my teeth and watch as his eyes darken and his nostrils flare.