FACES IN THE CROWD
1235 Words
EMILY'S POV
The elevator doors slide open on my first official day, and I feel like I'm walking into a den of wolves.
The administrative floor buzzes with activity. Phones ring. Keyboards click. People rush past me with papers clutched to their chests, their eyes fixed straight ahead. No one looks at me. No one smiles.
I clutch my bag tighter and step out of the elevator, my heels sinking into the plush carpet. The air smells like expensive perfume and anxiety. I can practically taste the fear in this place.
"Excuse me," I say to a woman passing by. "I'm looking for Mr. Tristan Molson's office. I'm supposed to meet him."
The woman stops, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. Her lips curl slightly. "You're the new secretary?"
"Yes. Emily Haven."
She laughs. It's a cold, cruel sound. "Good luck, sweetheart. You'll need it." She points down the hallway. "Third door on the left. Try not to cry on your first day. It's bad for the company image."
She walks away before I can respond.
My cheeks burn. I don't know why she hates me. I've never met her before in my life. But I can feel the hostility radiating from everyone around me. They look at me like I'm a threat, like I'm something to be crushed.
I find Tristan's office and knock on the door. It swings open almost immediately, revealing his smiling face.
"Emily!" He gestures me inside with exaggerated warmth. "Welcome, welcome. I hope you're ready for an exciting first day."
I step inside, keeping my guard up. Tristan seems friendly enough, but something about him makes my skin crawl. Maybe it's the way his eyes linger on me a beat too long. Maybe it's the way he smiles with his mouth but not his eyes.
"I'm ready," I say, keeping my voice neutral.
"Excellent!" He claps his hands together. "Let me show you around. This floor is where all the administrative work happens. You'll be working closely with Derek and me, so you'll need to know everyone."
He leads me through the hallways, introducing me to people I'll never remember. Everyone smiles at Tristan, but their smiles fade when they look at me. I'm the outsider. The intruder. The one who doesn't belong.
"This is Janet," Tristan says, gesturing to a woman behind a desk. "She handles all the financial records. Janet, this is Emily. She's Derek's new secretary."
Janet looks up, her eyes narrowing. "Derek's secretary?" She turns to Tristan. "I thought you said he wasn't hiring anyone new."
"Plans change." Tristan's smile never wavers. "Emily comes highly recommended."
I can feel Janet's gaze boring into me. "Recommended by who?"
"A mutual acquaintance," I say before Tristan can answer. "Someone from Beverly Hills."
Janet snorts. "Beverly Hills. The town of losers and failures. I'm surprised you made it out alive."
My blood boils, but I force myself to smile. "I'm tougher than I look."
"Apparently." Janet turns back to her computer, dismissing me. "Don't get too comfortable. Derek goes through secretaries like tissues. You'll be gone in a week."
Tristan laughs awkwardly. "Don't mind her, Emily. She's just protective of her territory."
"Territory?" I ask as we walk away.
"The company," Tristan explains. "Janet's been here for fifteen years. She's seen secretaries come and go. She doesn't trust new people."
"She doesn't trust me."
"Can you blame her?" Tristan's smile is almost apologetic. "You're young, beautiful, and you work directly for Derek. That makes you a threat."
A threat. That's what they see me as. They don't know I'm here for justice. They don't know I'm carrying Derek's child.
And they don't know I'm digging for evidence against their beloved CEO.
"Now, let me show you the filing room," Tristan says, leading me down a corridor. "You'll be spending a lot of time here. Derek loves his paperwork."
We enter a room filled with tall cabinets, each one stuffed with files. I can barely see the walls behind them. It's a treasure trove of information. Of secrets.
"This is incredible," I breathe, unable to hide my excitement.
"It's a nightmare." Tristan laughs. "But you'll get used to it."
He leaves me alone to explore, telling me he has a meeting. I wait until his footsteps fade, then I start rifling through the cabinets. Financial records. Employee files. Meeting minutes. It's all here.
And then I see it. A file marked "Zevian Haven – Deceased Employee."
My hands shake as I pull it out. I flip through the pages, my eyes scanning the words. His employment record. His performance reviews. His termination notice.
But there's no mention of the gold. No mention of his discovery. No mention of his death.
"You're not going to find anything useful in there."
I spin around, my heart racing. A woman stands in the doorway, her arms crossed. I recognize her from the introductions. She's one of the accounts managers.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, my voice trembling.
She steps closer. "You're Zevian Haven's daughter, aren't you? You have his eyes. His nose. His spirit."
My throat tightens. "How do you know?"
"I worked with your father for ten years." Her voice softens. "He was a good man. He didn't deserve what happened to him."
"What do you know?" I step toward her, desperate. "Please. I need to know what happened."
She glances around, checking for eavesdroppers. "Not here. It's not safe. Meet me at the coffee shop down the street after work. I'll tell you what I know."
"Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you so much."
She nods and slips away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
For the rest of the day, I go through the motions. I file papers. I answer phones. I smile at people who hate me. But my mind is elsewhere. I'm thinking about Zevian. About his legacy. About the gold he discovered.
And about the people who killed him.
At exactly 5 PM, I pack my things and head for the coffee shop. But before I can leave, someone grabs my arm.
"Going somewhere, Emily?"
It's Tristan. His smile is still there, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Just heading home," I say, pulling away gently. "Long day."
"Too long for a coffee with me?"
My heart sinks. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm really tired."
"I insist." His grip tightens. "We have so much to talk about. Like your father, for example."
My blood runs cold. "What about my father?"
"Oh, don't play dumb." He leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. "I know why you're here. But I promise you, Emily, you won't find what you're looking for. And even if you do, you won't survive long enough to use it."
I pull away, my eyes blazing. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise." His smile fades, replaced by something cold and cruel. "Derek might be soft on you, but I'm not. Stay in your lane, or I'll make sure you regret it."
He walks away, leaving me shaking in the hallway.
I don't go to the coffee shop that night. I go straight home, lock my door, and cry. The weight of everything is too much. The secrets. The lies. The danger.
But I won't give up.
I can't.
For Zevian. For my family. For my unborn child.
I will find the truth, even if it kills me.
- Writer
