I felt shivers down my back when I heard her pronounce my name.

"That's me," I exclaimed getting up from my seat, going to follow her inside before I felt someone grab my arm.

"Good luck with the devil," Jules whispered, successfully not being heard by Mrs. Maximoff but earning a few glares from the people around us.

I nodded at her and took a big breath before going in.

"Come in Miss Y/L/N, we don't have all day," Her voice was still firm even from far away. How in the hell did she do that?

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." I rushed my way into her office, which had large windows, giving us an amazing view of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge.

I was standing in front of her desk, waiting for her to say something.

Great, just great. I already messed this up.

She's looking for new, confident and promising journalists and I'm here waiting for her to give me permission to do something.

"Take a seat, Y/N. Don't wait for me to tell you," Her tone was slightly...softer? How did she go from sounding that rough to this in just a matter of seconds?

"Sorry..."

"Don't apologize."

"Is there anything else I'm not supposed to do?" I whispered, maybe a little bit too loud, because I saw her turn and look at me as if I were her prey.

"Sorry...again."

"I've already told you, don't apologize. Even when you do or say something you're not supposed to," she teased me, referring to the words I had said earlier.

Okay, ouch.

"Tell me about yourself, Y/N," she spoke, almost as if she was commanding me.

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N-"

"I already know your name."

"I'm 24-"

"I also know that."

"I studied at Columbi-"

"I know that too," she held my resume up.

Right.

"Well, what do you want me to tell you?" I tried sounding as calm as I could, maybe she really was the devil. I shook my head and let that stupid thought get out, I had to focus so I wouldn't mess this up than I already have. I really need this job.

"Everything okay?" Her voice was tender again. She adjusted her bangs and that's when it hit me: she was truly gorgeous.

I just nodded at her in response, and again, waited for her to say something.

If she already knew everything about me, then what was I supposed to talk to her about?

"Interview me," she requested.

It made sense, but it also didn't.

She wants to know how I would be at this, but why interview her?

"Okay, I guess."

"You guess?" She started, getting up from her chair just to take place in front of me. "Interview me, Y/N. I want to see you do your job."

I went to open my notebook, but before I could it was snatched out of my hands.

"Don't. Ask me what you want to know right now. Don't follow a stupid scheme you found online."

Guilty.

"Why do you want new people? I mean, it's not like the old staff was bad. Oleg Resources wasn't flopping. Why put yourself through all of these interviews?" I started off easy. Even though she said to ask her what I wanted to know at that moment, I didn't want it to become personal.

"Oleg Resources is mine now, I need it to be Wanda's publishing house, not Oleg daughter's publishing house. That means starting over again, building my own empire from within. Keep going," She didn't even hesitate to answer. This woman scares me.

"And how different is Wanda's publishing house from her dad's?"

"Staff. Articles. Interviews. Everything is different, even the layout of the journal. When you have half of the continent buy what you sell, everything needs to be perfect, and as much as I love my dad, his wasn't perfect. It always looked the same. Printed the same stuff over and over again. People need to see the world with their eyes, not the people who came before them. It won't be those damn articles about white cisgender straight men talking bullshit about things they think they can control anymore. Everything is going to be different. It will change whoever lays eyes on that piece of paper."

"You must really care about this."

"Then why else would I do it?" Wanda said those words as if she was challenging me. "People have been saying things about me, aren't they?" There it was. That roughness in her voice again.

"If they are, I didn't hear them."

Did the "devil" thing count?

"Keep going."

"Why am I interviewing you? Am I the only one who's doing this?"

"I want to see you do your job. Your palms are sweaty, you keep bouncing your leg, and you look around the room, searching for any kind of distraction to not look into my eyes. You're under pressure because you fear me right now. You need to bring out the best in you. You need this job and if you don't get it, you will be screwed."

There was absolutely no need to point all of those things out, because they're all true.

She was a little bit cocky, but she knew she was right.

"And yes, you are the only one that is doing this, you want to know why?" She asked me and I nodded in response, eager to know the answer.

"You are the only one that lasted this long. All the others wanted out. That's why I know that people have heard things about me, but I can assure you that they're all not true," Wanda returned to her desk, taking a sip of the coffee that was placed on it.

"You assure me? Why would I care? As you said, I just need this job. Nothing more." I tried to match her tone, but I knew that I failed when I heard her chuckle at my words.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

I just looked at her while she took her time to enjoy her coffee. I wonder what is her coffee order. She looks like a black coffee kind of person.

"I already have all your information, I'll either send an email or call to tell you if the job is yours." She sorted the papers on her desk and took some of them, then got up and lead me to the door.

"I'll see you, Y/N," and then she called for someone else.

When I heard the door close behind me I let out a big breath I didn't know I was holding and immediately saw Jules walk toward me.

"How did it go?"

"It was hell, actual hell."

"Okay then, I'm the next one, and after we can go grab that coffee. How does that sound?"

"Like everything I need right now."