3
1407 Words
Silver
Three days… that’s how long I waited, pacing like a lunatic, snapping at Mark, refreshing my damn inbox every ten seconds like some desperate intern clinging to a dream. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic and yes, I may have spent an embarrassing amount of time parked outside HaleTech, half-disguised in oversized sunglasses and a cap, sipping overpriced lattes while glaring at Luciano Gerard’s penthouse office through binoculars. Sue me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him. That interview? He cracked me open like a safe, and I wasn’t used to feeling that… exposed. It was like he looked into me and saw things even I didn’t want to acknowledge. He was controlled, precise, and so f*****g unreadable that it made my blood itch.
So yeah, I stalked him, and I cursed him, and I may have threatened to choke Ghost through the phone if this was all some elaborate prank and then, on the third morning just when I was about to throw my laptop out the damn window it happened.
Subject: HaleTech Executive Assistant Position – Offer Letter Enclosed.
I stared at the screen like it was a hallucination. I blinked once, twice and I clicked it, and reread the words five times just to be sure.
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the position…
I let out a sound. Somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. Then I did something entirely out of character. I screamed out loud.
Mark nearly dropped the French press he was pouring. “Jesus Christ, woman!”
I launched myself at him, arms wrapping around his waist, and nearly knocked him into the counter. “I GOT THE f*****g JOB!”
He blinked, wide-eyed. “You’re hugging me. Voluntarily.”
“Shut up,” I said, squeezing him tighter. “I’m high on victory.”
“You smell like stress, sweat and despair, but okay.”
I pulled back just enough to punch his arm. “Don’t ruin this moment for me.”
He laughed and nudged me toward the kitchen island. “Sit down and eat something before you combust. I made eggs and that bougie sourdough toast you like.”
That’s the thing about Mark. He shows up at my place every morning like clockwork, dragging in coffee beans from obscure South American farms and acting like my kitchen is his own but I didn’t mind. He fed me, he knew how to work the espresso machine, and he was the closest thing I had to family, so I let him stay.
I practically inhaled the breakfast while he raised a brow at me. “So when do you start?”
“Today.”
His eyes widened. “As in today… today?”
I nodded, mouth full. “Nine a.m. They want me to hit the ground running.”
“Well, s**t,” he muttered. “You ready?”
I stood up, wiped my mouth, and headed for the bedroom. “Born ready, and I’m gonna dress like power-f*****g incarnate.”
I threw on a deep navy blouse that buttoned just enough to tease, paired it with black slacks that hugged the right places and sensible but deadly heels. My hair went into a sleek knot at the back of my head, and I lined my eyes with just enough precision to slice throats with a blink.
Mark gave a low whistle when I stepped out. “If he doesn’t hire you for your skills, he’s definitely hiring you to set the building on fire.”
“Stop flirting with me before I poison your coffee,” I muttered, grabbing my bag.
He saluted me with his mug. “Go kill it. Figuratively, of course.”
“Hopefully,” I muttered under my breath.
---
Walking into HaleTech as an official employee felt different. My heels clicked on marble tile with the confidence of someone who had finally pushed through the wall of bullshit and claimed their space. No more pretending to be nervous. No more “interview face.” I belonged here now.
Well… kind of.
Luciano Gerard wasn’t in the building. That was my first surprise of the day.
My second was the stack of paperwork and digital assignments waiting on my desk like a middle finger from the man himself.
“Mr. Gerard wanted you to get started immediately,” said a woman named Bianca, another assistant who looked like she hadn’t smiled since 2015. “He left instructions.”
Understatement of the century.
There were emails to sort, vendor contracts to revise, three internal memos marked urgent, and a list of names under something called Project Icarus that were flagged with red codes and NDA locks.
Cute.
I rolled up my sleeves, metaphorically and literally, and got to work.
I didn’t look at the clock once, not until my stomach growled and I realized it was well past three in the afternoon and I’d missed lunch. My back ached, my fingers were cramping, and I still had three files to format.
By five, I was ready to kick something or someone.
Who the hell gives a new hire the workload of a senior executive and then ghosts on day one?
Luciano f*****g Gerard, apparently.
The man was testing me and I hated that it was working.
By six, I was the last one left on the entire floor and still no sign of him.
Coward.
I leaned back in my ergonomic hell-chair and stared at the ceiling. “Maybe he’s not human,” I muttered. “Maybe he’s a vampire or a highly evolved form of office demon.”
The elevator chimed and I froze.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. Not rushed and not slow, just deliberate and controlled.
I stood and turned, but it wasn’t him. It was a courier with a sealed envelope.
“For Ms. Grace Ellison,” he said, not meeting my eyes.
I took it, signed, and watched him leave.
Inside was a note, written in sharp, slanted handwriting that I immediately recognized.
Good progress. Let’s see how long you last.
—LG
No greeting, no signature beyond initials and no return address.
I wanted to scream or laugh or maybe throw the damn envelope in the shredder but instead, I sat down slowly, reread the note, and let the corner of my mouth twitch upward.
Game on, asshole.
I got home just after eight. Mark was on the couch, legs stretched out, TV playing some conspiracy documentary about secret societies. He looked up when I walked in.
“You look like death’s overworked assistant.”
“I feel worse,” I muttered, tossing my heels into the corner.
“You’re bleeding.”
I glanced down at the blister on the back of my ankle. “Occupational hazard.”
He handed me a beer without asking. I took it, downed half in one go, then collapsed next to him.
“So?” he asked.
I leaned my head back and groaned. “He wasn’t even there.”
Mark blinked. “Wait, what?”
“He gave me the equivalent of five days’ work and then vanished.”
Mark snorted. “Sounds like love to me.”
“Shut the f**k up.”
“Admit it. He’s inside your head.”
“He’s not—” I stopped, sighed. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Mark turned to face me. “Silver… you sure you can do this?”
“I’ve done harder jobs.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. I mean… him. You weren’t supposed to care.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “I just don’t like feeling played.”
Mark watched me for a beat, then nodded. “Okay, then play back.”
I grinned. “Oh, I intend to.”
That night, I sat at my desk in my room, studying everything I had on Luciano Gerard. Reports, surveillance photos and financial records. I memorized the layout of his floor, the guards’ shift changes, even the brand of cigarettes he ordered but never smoked.
I needed to understand him because people like Luciano? They didn’t break easily and if I was going to tear him down, I had to become the one crack in his armor that he never saw coming.
I was going to make him trust me, then I’d ruin him and if he thought this was a test?
He hadn’t even seen me cheat yet.
- Writer
