Tangled in Power

The next few days at Knight Industries were a haze of continual pressure, numerous meetings, and the crushing weight of Nathaniel's expectations. Sabrina immediately learned that every moment was a test, and each contact was a delicate power struggle. And yet, she couldn't help but be pulled to the intensity of it all, to Nathaniel's ability to control the entire workplace with a single glance or sharp remark.

It wasn't just his presence—it was the way he commanded everything around him, as though every decision, every move, was part of an intricate game only he knew how to play.

And Sabrina? She was just a pawn—at least, that's how it felt. She had spent her first week at the company trying to prove herself, to be the perfect employee. But it wasn't enough. Nathaniel had made it clear: pleasing him wasn't the key to survival in his world. She had to adapt, to become something more than just a worker. But what exactly?

Sabrina was drained by the weekend, her mind racing with the weight of her failures and her attraction with Nathaniel. She'd barely seen him outside of the office, yet every time he walked into the room, it was as if the air modified, his presence palpable. He had a way of making things sound essential while still appearing insignificant. Sabrina found herself craving more of it for no apparent reason.

It wasn't just the challenge he presented—it was the mystery. The way he was impossible to read, his emotions always hidden behind a carefully constructed mask. It frustrated her, yet it also intrigued her.

On Monday morning, Sabrina walked into the office with a sense of purpose. She had made up her mind. She would stop trying to fit into Nathaniel's world and start playing by her own rules. She couldn't afford to lose herself in the process, not when so much was at stake.

Her first task of the day was to review a presentation for a high-profile client meeting that Nathaniel would attend. As she went through the slides, her phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel:

"The meeting's today at noon. Be prepared. I'll be watching."

Sabrina's heart skipped a beat. The weight of his words felt heavier this time, more direct. She had prepared for this meeting—at least, she thought she had. She had anticipated every question the client might ask, every angle. But Nathaniel's words—those simple, loaded phrases—reminded her that it was never enough. Not in his eyes.

She spent the next few hours reworking the presentation, refining every detail, adding more data, anticipating Nathaniel's sharp eye. Every time she thought she was finished, something else nagged at her. She wasn't just preparing for the client. She was preparing for him. The realization sent a cold shiver down her spine.

When noon finally arrived, Sabrina walked into the conference room with a sense of resolve. Nathaniel was already there, seated at the head of the table, his cold gaze flicking over the presentation materials without a word. Sabrina tried not to focus on him, but his presence was impossible to ignore. His sharp suit, his commanding posture, the way the room seemed to shrink whenever he spoke—everything about him made it clear that he was in control.

She took her seat, trying to steady her nerves. As the meeting began, she presented the revised materials, walking the client through the data and projections. At first, the conversation went smoothly. But soon, the client began to push, asking difficult questions Sabrina hadn't anticipated. Her confidence started to waver, and she felt the weight of Nathaniel's gaze on her. His eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through her, silently judging her every move.

"You didn't anticipate that," Nathaniel's voice cut through the room, his tone calm but sharp. "You should always be ten steps ahead."

Sabrina's breath took in her throat, and for a brief minute, everything felt out of her control. She wanted to argue and defend herself, but she couldn't. He was correct. She'd made a mistake. And Nathaniel was not the sort to overlook mistakes.

The client turned to Nathaniel, sensing the tension in the room, and he spoke with ease, answering difficult questions with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how to exploit the situation.

Sabrina couldn't help but watch him, the way he exuded power and control. It wasn't just about the company—he was in control of everything, every person in the room, and Sabrina couldn't shake the feeling that she was completely at his mercy.

The meeting ended, and the client left with a handshake, satisfied. But Sabrina didn't feel the sense of accomplishment she had expected. Instead, she felt hollow, as though she had failed. Nathaniel had let her struggle in front of the client, had allowed her to falter before stepping in. And she knew—he had done it on purpose.

As the last of the clients exited the room, Nathaniel turned to Sabrina, his expression unreadable.

"That wasn't good enough," he said flatly. "You should have anticipated every question. Every doubt. Every hesitation. A good strategist doesn't just react—they lead the conversation."

Sabrina swallowed hard, but she didn't back down. She knew this was part of his game—testing her, pushing her to the brink.

"I'll do better next time," she replied, her voice steady, though she could feel her pulse racing.

Nathaniel looked at her for a while, his eyes narrowing as if he was evaluating her response, before turning and leaving the room without saying anything.

Sabrina stood there, alone in the conference room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She had failed, but she had also learned something important. Nathaniel's world wasn't just about numbers and presentations—it was about control. Every move was calculated, every word chosen with purpose.

And if she was going to survive in his world, she would have to learn to play the game by his rules.

That evening, Sabrina sat at her desk, reviewing her notes from the meeting. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Nathaniel—his cold demeanor, the way he effortlessly commanded every room he entered. She didn't know how to beat him, but she knew one thing for sure: she wasn't going to stop trying.

She would learn his game. And then, maybe, she would find a way to take control.