Chapter 7: Between Fear and Defiance
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The following morning, Gianna Castillo arrived at work earlier than usual, just as she always did. But this time, every step she took toward the building felt heavier, as though the weight of yesterday’s events had settled deep into her bones.
Her heart raced uncontrollably.
Since rejecting Anthony Sinclair’s offer—no, his command—she had not known a moment of peace. Anxiety clung to her chest like a tight grip, refusing to loosen no matter how many times she told herself to stay calm. She had spent the night replaying the scene in her head, wondering if she had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
Was today the day she would be fired?
Or worse—humiliated?
Gianna forced herself to keep walking, straight to the elevator. She pressed the button for their office floor, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. As the doors began to close, a hand suddenly slid between them, stopping the elevator in its tracks.
Her breath caught.
The doors opened wider—and there he was.
Anthony Sinclair stepped inside with his usual commanding presence, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that screamed authority and power. Gianna’s eyes widened before she could stop herself, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.
She immediately moved to the side of the elevator, pressing herself as far away as possible as Anthony walked in and leaned casually against the back wall. The confined space suddenly felt suffocating, the air thick and heavy with unspoken tension.
For a brief moment, Gianna wished the floor would simply open up and swallow her whole.
The silence between them was unbearable.
No words were spoken. No glances exchanged.
And yet, Gianna could hear nothing but her own heartbeat—loud, frantic, betraying her fear. Riding the elevator with her boss, the very man she had dared to talk back to just yesterday, felt surreal. Unreal. Terrifying.
The elevator moved painfully slowly.
She bowed her head, nervously twisting her fingers together, unaware that she had been holding her breath since the moment Anthony stepped inside.
“Breathe,” Anthony said suddenly, his voice calm and cold. “You might die here.”
Gianna’s head snapped up.
Anthony’s gaze remained fixed on the elevator doors, his expression unreadable, as if he hadn’t just said something that sent a jolt through her entire body. Gianna stared at him in shock before realizing the truth—she truly had forgotten how to breathe.
She inhaled sharply, then exhaled, trying to steady herself.
But no matter how hard she tried, the air still felt thin. Anthony Sinclair had that effect on people—especially on her.
When the elevator doors finally opened, Anthony stepped out without a backward glance.
Gianna stayed behind for a few seconds, her knees trembling. She placed a hand against the wall, grounding herself, before finally stepping out and forcing her posture straight.
She couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now. Not here. This was her job. And she would do it—fear or no fear.
When she reached the office floor, she noticed that Anne hadn’t arrived yet. Gianna went straight to her desk, placed her belongings down, and immediately headed to the coffee machine. Preparing Anthony’s coffee had become part of her daily routine—one she clung to now like a lifeline of normalcy.
Once the coffee was ready, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked toward Anthony’s office.
She knocked three times. No response.
Carefully, she opened the door and stepped inside, carrying the cup with both hands.
Anthony was seated behind his desk, already working.
Gianna approached. “Here is your coffee, sir,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice steady.
Anthony set his pen down slowly and lifted his gaze.
The moment his eyes met hers, Gianna felt a chill run down her spine. There was something dangerous in the way he looked at her—controlled, sharp, and unsettling. It was as if he were assessing her, measuring how much she could endure before breaking.
“You have the audacity to show yourself in front of me,” Anthony said coldly, “after what you did yesterday?”
Gianna’s hand trembled as she held the edge of the desk.
“Unbelievable, Ms. Castillo.”
Silence fell between them.
Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, trying to speak, but her voice failed her.
“I… I—”
“Speak clearly,” Anthony said evenly, though the warning in his tone was unmistakable. “Where is that brave tongue you had yesterday? Did the cat steal it?”
Gianna tried to avert her gaze, but she couldn’t. It was as though his eyes had locked hers in place.
She swallowed again. “S-sir… I—I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s just—”
“Fix your tongue first before you apologize,” Anthony snapped. “I can’t understand a single damn word you’re saying.”
Her hands shook violently now.
Afraid she might spill the coffee, Gianna gently placed the cup down on his desk. Anthony watched the movement closely. When the cup stopped near his hand, his gaze returned to her face—and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
Yes.
Gianna Castillo was nothing like the women who usually threw themselves at him. But seeing her this way—nervous, trembling, struggling to speak—was oddly satisfying.
It proved something. He still affected her.
Gianna took another deep breath and forced herself to regain control.
“I’m really sorry about yesterday, Mr. Sinclair,” she said in one breath. “You offered a marriage contract like you were asking for a glass of water. That wasn’t right—especially for someone like me who takes her job seriously. What you offered has nothing to do with my work, sir. I hope you understand.”
Anthony said nothing. He simply watched her, amusement flickering behind his cold expression.
“If you’re going to fire me,” Gianna continued, her voice steadier now, “then that’s fine. Maybe I hurt your ego by rejecting your offer.”
This time, she held his gaze. Her hands were still shaking. Her heart thundered in her chest.
“Do you think I’m too sensitive?” Anthony asked quietly.
Gianna didn’t answer.
“Yes,” he went on. “I could fire you anytime I want.”
Her breath caught.
“But not now.”
Gianna gasped softly, stunned.
Not now.
“I don’t fire people when I’m angry, just because of that” Anthony continued. “Now go back to your damn work—before I change my mind.”
Relief and fear crashed into her all at once.
“Y-Yes, sir,” Gianna said quickly.
She turned and left the office, her legs weak, her mind spinning.
She hadn’t lost her job.
Not yet.
But something told her this was only the beginning.
And Anthony Sinclair was far from done with her.
- Writer
