Chapter 3
1036 Words
The first week at Chen Industries felt like being dropped into the middle of a storm that pretended to be calm. The offices gleamed, the floors shone, and everyone moved like they were late for something important. But beneath the shine was chaos—emails unanswered, meetings rescheduled three times, and a CEO who couldn’t remember his own agenda.
Emma sat at her desk outside Alexander Chen’s office, her screen filled with a spreadsheet that was a disaster disguised as a plan. She scrolled through color-coded columns of client names, missed calls, and forgotten deadlines. This company runs on confusion, she thought, her fingers tapping against the desk. And he doesn’t even notice.
Every time Alexander walked past her, he barely looked up from his phone. Once, he nodded. Once. That was the most attention she’d received all week. The rest of the time, he just moved through the building like it belonged to him—and maybe it did—but he had no idea how fragile it really was.
A soft ping sounded from her laptop. Another department had missed a contract renewal deadline—again. Emma sighed quietly and pulled up the file. She had reminded them three times. She checked the date, frowned, and started typing an email that would sound like a polite nudge but was really a rescue. Her fingers moved fast. Her mind faster.
She could hear Alexander’s voice through the frosted glass door of his office. Calm. Deep. A little arrogant. He was on a call. She couldn’t make out the words, but she could hear the tone—the same one men like him used when they were confident they were right.
She smirked faintly. You’re not right, Mr. Chen. Not even close.
The door opened. Alexander stepped out mid-sentence, phone pressed to his ear. His eyes brushed past her without stopping. He walked to the assistant printer table, picked up a document, and turned to leave.
“Mr. Chen?”
He paused. Not surprised, not annoyed—just waiting.
“The Marson contract was about to expire,” she said evenly. “I’ve renewed it and emailed legal for a counter-signature.”
He blinked. Just once. “I didn’t assign that to you.”
“No. But you would’ve lost them by Friday if someone didn’t act.”
A long pause. Then a curt nod. “Fine. Good work.”
He walked back into his office and closed the door.
Emma exhaled through her nose, just enough to hide the frustration curling beneath her ribs. Good work? That was it? No curiosity about how she’d known. No awareness that she’d just prevented a six-figure loss.
She looked back at her screen. Her reflection glared faintly on the glass—neat bun, dull glasses, quiet face. The disguise still held. That was good.
But it was starting to itch.
***
The day dragged on in whispers and keystrokes. Meetings started and ended. People passed her desk, smiling politely, never asking her name.
By 6:30 p.m., the floor was almost empty. Only one light still burned behind the glass wall—his. Alexander sat at his desk, typing, the glow of the city behind him turning his silhouette sharp and unreadable.
Emma hesitated before packing up. She wanted to leave. But she also wanted to know what a man like him looked like when no one was watching.
She stood quietly and walked toward his office. The door was slightly open, a soft line of light spilling across the hallway. She could hear the faint tap of keys and the rustle of paper.
Then—
“Lawson,” his voice said. Calm. Controlled.
Emma froze. “Yes, Mr. Chen?”
“You’re still here.”
“I was finishing up the finance reports you asked for.”
“I didn’t ask for those today.”
She met his eyes through the half-open door. “You forgot you did.”
He leaned back in his chair, studying her. His gaze wasn’t sharp—it was assessing. Like he was trying to figure out if she was useful or dangerous.
“How long have you been working?”
“Since eight.”
“Most people would’ve gone home hours ago.”
“I’m not most people.”
Something flickered in his eyes. A mix of amusement and annoyance. He stood, walked around his desk, and leaned against it. “You’re confident.”
“Efficient,” she corrected.
“Same thing.”
“No,” she said softly, her tone even. “Confidence is loud. Efficiency is quiet.”
His brow arched. “And which one are you?”
She smiled just slightly. “The one who makes sure the loud ones don’t crash the company.”
He looked at her for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed—low and brief. The sound startled her more than it should have.
“You’ve got nerve, Lawson.”
“I have standards,” she replied.
He didn’t say anything after that. Just turned and picked up a file from his desk. “There’s a supplier meeting at nine tomorrow. Confirm it.”
“I already did.”
“Of course you did,” he murmured, almost to himself.
She watched him walk back to his chair. The conversation was over. But her pulse wasn’t steady yet.
He’s noticing me now. Not enough to care. Just enough to wonder.
She walked out, her heels soft against the marble floor. Outside the building, the night air was cool against her skin.
Emma stopped under a streetlight and pulled out her phone. She typed a quick note in her encrypted app:
> “Observation #3: Chen is careless with details but quick to adapt when challenged. Mild ego defense. Beginning to notice me. Proceed cautiously.”
She hit save and slipped the phone away.
The city hummed around her. Somewhere above, lights still burned on the top floor of Chen Industries.
This isn’t about saving him, she reminded herself. This is about proving a point.
But even as she told herself that, she couldn’t shake the image of his laugh—the first c***k in his perfect armor.
And cracks always made her curious.
- Writer
