Chapter 8
1159 Words
Scarlet’s Point of View
The moment I stepped out of Lysander’s office, a smile tugged at my lips. I hadn’t even made a single move yet, and Seraphina was already burning with jealousy.
Just as I turned toward the elevator, my stomach growled loud enough to remind me I’d left home without breakfast. Great. I sighed, rubbing my belly. Food first, then chaos later.
I decided to head to the company lounge. The moment I walked in, all eyes landed on me like I had just stepped onto a runway. Whispers started immediately, some subtle, others not so much. I ignored them, striding to the counter with a little sway in my hips. If they wanted a show, I was happy to give them one.
“I’ll have a cappuccino and a croissant, please,” I told the barista with a polite smile. She looked at me like she was starstruck, then quickly nodded and got to work.
By the time I picked up my tray and walked to a corner table, I could feel the curious stares still glued to me. I sat down gracefully, crossing my legs and setting my food neatly on the table before digging in. The first bite of the warm croissant melted on my tongue. Finally—heaven.
Halfway through my cappuccino, a shadow fell across the table. I looked up, expecting another nosy staff member pretending to be friendly, but this time it was different.
“Miss Wilde,” a lady’s voice rang out.
I raised a brow, pausing mid-bite. She stood there, a little breathless, as though she had been searching for me.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I raised a brow, curious. “Yes… that would be me. And you are?”
She extended her hand. “I’m Clara. I used to be Mr. Thorne’s personal assistant. He asked me to put you through your duties.”
I set my fork down and wiped my hands before shaking hers. “Ah. I see.”
Her gaze flicked to my half-eaten plate. “Are you done eating? We can go ahead if you are.”
I muttered under my breath, too low for her to hear—or so I thought—“Oh, Ms. Almighty Seraphina couldn’t take the job away from me after all.”
Clara tilted her head. “Sorry? Did you say something?”
I gave her a quick smile, waving my hand. “Oh no. Just talking to myself.”
“Alright then,” she said, still polite but a little cautious. “Shall we?”
I nodded, finishing the last sip of my juice before standing. Together, we walked out of the lounge, and she began her tour.
“This,” she gestured as we entered a large open room buzzing with activity, “is the general staff area. If you ever need documents, printing, or internal communications sent, you can coordinate with the staff here.”
I followed her closely, absorbing everything while pretending not to be impressed. “Got it.”
“Mr. Thorne is extremely particular about his schedule,” Clara continued, leading me down another corridor. “You’ll be in charge of keeping his meetings organized, preparing his files ahead of time, and ensuring he has everything he needs before stepping into a room. Time is very important to him. If he says nine o’clock, he expects nine sharp.”
“I figured,” I replied with a small smile. “He doesn’t seem like the type who tolerates tardiness.”
Clara chuckled softly. “You’d be correct. He also expects discretion. You’ll handle confidential files, contracts, even personal matters sometimes. The less said, the better.”
“Discretion. Punctuality. Organization.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “Sounds like a simple recipe.”
She gave me a look. “It’s simple until you’re the one juggling three phone calls, a boardroom full of executives, and an annoyed client all at once.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair enough. Point taken.”
Clara showed me the conference rooms, the assistant’s desk stationed right outside Lysander’s office, and even the private elevator he used when avoiding the crowd. Every corner of this place seemed polished and intimidating, but I held my head high, refusing to look overwhelmed.
Finally, she stopped and handed me a slim leather-bound planner. “This will be your lifeline. It’s Mr. Thorne’s master schedule. Memorize it, live by it, and never let it out of your sight.”
I ran my hand over the smooth cover, a small spark of excitement flickering in me. This was power. Access. And Seraphina had wanted to snatch it from me. Too bad.
“Thank you, Clara,” I said sincerely. “I appreciate you taking the time.”
She smiled. “No problem. If you need anything, my extension is on the first page. Don’t hesitate to call.”
I nodded, gripping the planner tightly. Inside, I was already plotting. Seraphina might hate me, but this was just the beginning.
I pushed the door open gently and slipped back into Lysander’s office. He was on the phone, his voice low and firm, sharp in a way that made it clear whoever was on the other side had no choice but to agree with him. He lifted a hand without looking at me and gestured for me to wait.
“Give me a minute,” he said, tone clipped.
I nodded and let my eyes wander around the space, trying not to focus on him too much. The room was neat, perfectly arranged, exactly what you’d expect from someone like him. But then my gaze caught something I hadn’t noticed earlier.
A photograph.
Seraphina’s photograph.
Right there on his desk. My stomach twisted and my mood shifted in an instant. I clenched my jaw, blinking rapidly as a sting burned the back of my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not in front of him. A tear welled at the corner of my eye, and I quickly blinked it away, schooling my face into calm.
“Alright, that’s settled. Send me the report by noon,” he said into the phone before hanging up. He turned to me, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Oh yes, Katherina—you’re back.”
I froze. My heart stopped. Katherina?
The name rang in my ears, heavy, My eyes widened, but before I could say a word, he coughed lightly and corrected himself.
“I mean—Scarlett.” He gave me a careful look, like he wanted to see if I’d caught on.
I forced a smile, though my chest tightened. “Scarlett,” I echoed smoothly, pretending the slip hadn’t rattled me. Pretending that name didn’t scratch at the back of my mind.
“Of course,” I added lightly, letting the mask of charm slide back into place. “Scarlett.”
- Writer
