Broken by him, bound to him

Chapter 8: The love triangle

Naya and Cain arrived at the office early that morning. The building was still quiet, the air carrying that crisp stillness before the daily rush. Naya lingered at the reception, chatting with Lisa while Cain disappeared down the hall.

A few minutes into their conversation, two women swept through the entrance. One was tall, slender, strikingly attractive, with sleek black hair cut into a sharp bob. The other was just as tall, just as polished, with flowing blonde hair and the same air of model-like elegance. Their outfits screamed wealth—tailored pieces, subtle yet expensive, the kind of fashion that whispered designer labels without needing to flaunt them.

Naya’s first thought was that they had to be models.

But Lisa’s reaction told a different story. The moment she saw them, her posture stiffened, her face tightening as though she had swallowed something bitter. She forced herself to stand straighter as the two women strolled toward the desk.

“Hello, Lisa. Looks like you’ve been working out. Your face looks lighter, don’t you think, hon?” the woman with the bob said to the blonde. Her tone was sweet, but the words dripped with venom.

Naya immediately recognized it wasn’t a compliment.

Lisa forced a smile—so forced her facial muscles seemed to strain against it. She didn’t reply.

“What can I do for you today, Rachel?” Lisa asked, her voice low and careful.

Rachel. So that was her name.

The black-haired woman—Rachel—curled her lip into a sneer, a look that seemed practiced. “Nothing. You can’t do anything for us,” she said. Then, turning deliberately, her sharp gaze landed on Naya.

“I see you still use this desk as your gossiping quarters,” Rachel added, sizing her up like prey.

That was enough.

“Excuse me?” Naya said, stepping in front of Lisa. Her voice came out steady, firmer than she expected. “I don’t know who you two are, and honestly, I don’t care. What I do know is that you’re being very rude to my friend. I won’t stand for it. So, if you have nothing else to say, please leave.”

She tried to sound polite, but her words carried a quiet edge.

The two women looked at each other and laughed—high, girlish giggles that grated like nails on glass.

“Your friend?” the blonde exclaimed with exaggerated disbelief. “There was a time we thought she was our friend too—until she spread Rachel’s secrets through the whole office. You should be careful how much you say to her.”

With that, the two turned on their heels and swept upstairs, perfume trailing in their wake.

So that’s what this was about.

Naya turned slowly to Lisa. The receptionist stood frozen, her face pale. In her eyes, Naya saw enough truth to know the two women weren’t lying. It didn’t shock her—Lisa had given off that gossipy air from day one. Still, Naya didn’t dislike her. If anything, she liked her despite it.

“That’s Rachel and her best friend, Luna,” Lisa admitted at last, her voice tight. “Rachel’s Cain’s sister.”

Naya blinked. “Cain has a sister?” The surprise shot through her. How much about her ex-boyfriend did she really not know?

“Yes. A mean one, at that,” Lisa muttered. “So what if I told Cain on her? Was I supposed to let her throw an unauthorized party at the office?”

She explained quickly. Apparently, one weekend when the bosses were out of town, Rachel had tried to host a party in the office. Lisa found out and told Cain, who put an immediate stop to it.

Inside Cain’s office, Rachel sat casually on the couch, a pocket mirror in hand as she reapplied her lipstick. Luna stood close to Cain, smiling sweetly. Naya caught a glimpse of the scene through the open door. She wondered what they were plotting, but decided to mind her own business.

Her bigger concern today was Hassan. His name had appeared once in their work calendar, and thankfully only once. If the meeting with him was in the conference room and assistants weren’t allowed in, she would be spared. She prayed that would be the case. The thought of sitting across from him made her stomach twist.

Naya busied herself making notes for a project Cain would review at the end of the week. She was bent over her papers when Ryan appeared at her door.

He hadn’t known she was Cain’s assistant—at least not until Aydin, eager to stir trouble, let it slip. Now he walked in with a bouquet of flowers, fresh and vibrant, their scent spilling into the office.

Naya blinked, surprised. The arrangement was beautiful. Ryan clearly had a good eye.

He handed them to her with an easy smile. She accepted them, smiling back and drawing in their fragrance deeply.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, rising to place them in the office vase.

“Do I need an occasion to think about you?” Ryan replied smoothly, his tone light, almost teasing.

Naya laughed softly, though her heart wasn’t in it. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She meant it—but she knew she wasn’t giving him the response he wanted.

Ryan noticed. He saw the warmth in her smile, but also the distance in her eyes. She was trying—trying to want him—but he could feel she wasn’t drawn to him. It unsettled him, stirred something raw inside. He should have let it be, but he couldn’t.

“I hear Cain made you his assistant,” he said, settling into the chair opposite her.

“Yes. It came out of nowhere,” she admitted. “But I’ll still be working at my old spot most of the time. I’ll only be with him for short stretches, just like his old assistant. I heard he never wanted him close.”

“Yes, but you’re not his old assistant, are you?” Ryan said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

“You know you can say no, right? Just because he’s the boss doesn’t mean he gets to push people around.”

“It’s okay. I can manage,” Naya said, offering him that soft smile again. A smile that made him want to reach across the desk, pull her into his arms, and kiss her until the world disappeared.

“Alright,” Ryan said, rising reluctantly. “I can’t stay long. How about I take you somewhere special this Saturday?”

“Sure, why not,” she answered. Then, curiosity flickered in her eyes. “If you don’t mind me asking… what’s the deal between you and Cain?”

She leaned casually against the desk, her thick hair spilling forward to almost cover her face. She hadn’t tied it up that morning. She wore a light green sleeveless top, white wide-legged office trousers, golden earrings, a red-and-gold necklace, red heels, golden bangles, and bright red lipstick.

Ryan’s breath hitched. He moved closer, brushing the stray strands of hair gently behind her ear. His eyes—open, unguarded—revealed how much he wanted her. Her own gaze showed how much she was trying, fighting against herself.

Meanwhile, in the next room, Cain burned. His fury boiled over as he saw Ryan’s hand on her hair, Ryan’s face leaning close. Every nerve in him screamed bloody murder. She was his—his—and the sight of Ryan touching her made his vision blur. He snatched his phone, dialing her extension.

The office phone shrieked loudly.

Naya startled, glancing at Cain’s office. He was staring at her with an intensity that pierced through glass and walls—eyes blazing, furious, like a caged bull.

Her heart lurched. She picked up the receiver hesitantly.

“My office. Now,” Cain said, his voice sharp, before slamming the phone down.

---

Naya smoothed her blouse, steadied her breath, and walked into his office. Rachel and Luna were gone. It was just Cain.

“You have a meeting in twenty minutes with Mr. Hassan,” she said quickly, avoiding his gaze.

He didn’t reply. He just stared at her, his eyes filled with something that looked more like hurt than rage. The look pierced her chest, and guilt weighed heavy in her stomach. For a moment, she felt as though she had betrayed him. But then again—hadn’t she warned him? He knew she was seeing Ryan.

“Baby, why are you doing this?” Cain’s voice was low, almost pleading.

Naya’s head snapped up. “No, Cain. Why are you doing this? I need you to let me go. I’m not the girl you fell in love with years ago.”

The words tore from her, bleeding out with her pain. She cared for him—loved him still—but his name was chained to heartbreak. And even though she had forgiven him, accepting him back meant reopening scars she had fought to heal. It meant dismantling the fragile order she had built in her life, the structure forged through sweat, tears, and years. Could she risk breaking it all down again for love?

“Naya, what happened when I was gone? What led to the miscarriage?” Cain asked, voice heavy with grief.

He knew that wound still cut the deepest. She had wanted that child so badly—he had seen it in her, felt it in her joy. Losing it had broken her. Years ago, when he first met her, she had been guarded, walled off, detached. He had sensed her abandonment issues then, how everyone she loved seemed to leave. And in the end, he had done the same. He wasn’t surprised if her walls were higher now. But he didn’t care. He would break through them again. No matter the pain, the patience, or the time—it would all be worth it if she trusted him once more.

Naya opened her mouth to respond—when the office door swung open.

Mr. Hassan walked in, uninvited, unbothered.

The sight of him froze Naya in place. Her body recoiled instinctively. She stepped back, almost stumbling. Cain’s eyes flicked to her, immediately noting her reaction.

Hassan smiled, his lips curling beneath a heavy mustache that shadowed yellowed teeth. He was short and round, with thinning hair, a hooked nose, small green eyes that gleamed with arrogance.

“Hello, son,” Hassan said to Cain, though his eyes never left Naya. “Your father told me you’re in charge now.”

Cain stiffened. Naya’s gaze dropped to the floor, as if avoiding those piercing eyes would make her invisible. The unease rolling off her was palpable. Cain’s protective instinct flared. He wanted to tear Hassan apart for looking at her that way.

“Naya, it’s okay. You can go for now,” Cain said evenly, though his jaw was clenched.

She stumbled out quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste to escape.

Cain leaned back in his chair, his gaze narrowing. Whoever this man was, he terrified her—and Cain needed to know why.

“Yes, yes. Have you met my assistant before?” Cain asked, his voice deceptively casual.

The weight of the question hung heavy. It wasn’t small talk. It was a warning.

“I noticed you staring,” Cain added coldly, his eyes locking onto Hassan’s.

Hassan forced a laugh, his smile too wide. “No, no. Sorry about that. She just looked extremely familiar.”

Cain let it slide—for now. But Hassan knew. He had spooked Cain. If he wanted her, he would have to move more carefully.