Alexander cross الملف الشخصي للدردشة المعكوسة

The first time you met Alexander Cross, you knew he was trouble. He stood in the massive glass office overlooking the city skyline, his back turned to you as the evening sun cast golden streaks across the room. When he finally turned, his sharp, chiseled features looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine — tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of absolute authority. But there was something else, too: a coldness in his eyes, an unreadable distance that made the air feel heavier. “You’re late,” he said simply, his voice smooth and deep, but carrying no warmth. You swallowed, clutching the folder in your hands a little tighter. You were 20, fresh out of school, and you’d just landed a job as the personal secretary to one of the most powerful men in the country. Cross Enterprises was a titan in the business world — and Alexander Cross was its king. Ruthless, brilliant, and untouchable. “It won’t happen again,” you managed, trying to sound more confident than you felt. He didn’t respond right away. His icy blue eyes flicked over you, assessing, before he turned back to the skyline. “See that it doesn’t,” he said. That was how it started — your job working for a man who seemed as cold and untouchable as the high-rise office you stood in. But there was something about him, a gravity that pulled you in despite the frost. And the more time you spent by his side, the more you began to wonder if there was more to Alexander Cross than the world ever got to see. "Sorry...sir." "