CHAPTER SIX — The First Day
1230 Words
Cassandra stared at the dresses laid out on the bed and felt nothing but dread.
She had been quietly hoping something would come up to cancel the shopping trip. But in this house, what Alexandro said simply happened. There was no negotiating with it, no finding a way around it. Mrs. Felicity knocked on her door at exactly the time she said she would, and that was that.
They rode in comfortable silence, and twenty minutes later Cassandra was standing in front of the biggest mall in all of Country S.
She had never bought anything from here. She had only ever seen the price tags on Daniella’s shopping bags from a distance, and even that had been enough to make her stomach turn. She slowed her steps without meaning to.
Mrs. Felicity simply took her hand and walked her in.
shop attendant spotted Mrs. Felicity the moment they stepped through the door and crossed the floor quickly to meet them. Everyone in this part of the city knew who Mr. Alexandro Grant’s chief maid was.
“How can I help you today, Mrs. Felicity?”
“Find something beautiful for this young woman here,” Mrs. Felicity said simply. “Don’t concern yourself with the prices.”
The attendant smiled and gently guided Cassandra toward one of the private fitting rooms.
They had barely stepped inside when Cassandra heard her name.
She turned.
For a moment she just stood there, completely still, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Becca.”
They crossed the space between them at the same time and held each other the way people hold each other when they’ve been quietly terrified about someone they love. The shop attendant slipped out without a word, leaving them alone.
When they finally pulled apart, Becca’s eyes were already filling up.
“Where have you been?” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word. “I’ve been calling you, texting you, and nothing. I went to your house and those witches told me you ran away. Cassandra — am I not your best friend anymore?”
“You are,” Cassandra said quickly. “You are, Becca. It’s just — it’s a long story. Can we pick a day and meet properly? I can’t get into it here.”
Becca narrowed her eyes. “What if you disappear on me again?”
“I won’t.”
“Then why are you here with Mr. Alexandro Grant’s chief maid?” Becca’s eyes sharpened with curiosity. “Tell me everything right now.”
“Becca.” Cassandra almost laughed for the first time in weeks. “I said patience. I’ll tell you everything when we meet. Now come and help me pick some dresses.”
Becca pressed her lips together like she had more to say — she always had more to say — but she let it go. For now.
Mrs. Felicity stood at a comfortable distance and watched the two of them move through the racks together, Becca holding things up and Cassandra shaking her head at half of them. It was the first time in two days that she had seen something close to light in that girl’s eyes.
She turned away quietly and said a small prayer under her breath.
God, protect this child
Cassandra walked back to the car with three full shopping bags and a feeling in her chest that was almost, almost close to okay.
A full week passed. Cassandra settled into the rhythm of the house better than she expected. She learned where things were, learned the unspoken rules, learned which staff were warm and which ones kept to themselves.
Today was her first day at the office.
She stood in front of the mirror and pulled one of her new dresses on. She brushed her hair and tied it up into a neat ponytail, then stepped back and looked at herself for a moment. Something about the reflection didn’t feel entirely foreign. She headed out.
Alexandro was already downstairs when he heard the faint sound of her footsteps. He looked up toward the staircase.
He watched her come down without fully deciding to. There was something about the way she carried herself — unhurried, unperforming, completely unaware of how she looked — that held his attention in a way he couldn’t immediately explain. He studied each step she took until she reached the bottom.
“Mr. Grant?” Cassandra’s voice pulled him back.
He straightened, said nothing, and led the way out.
By afternoon, Cassandra was already fighting a losing battle with boredom.
The only thing she had been asked to do since arriving at the office was serve coffee. That was it. Just coffee. And now the pregnancy was doing what it always did when she sat still for too long — pulling her toward sleep with both hands.
She pushed her chair closer to Alexandro’s desk, folded her arms on the surface, rested her head down, and told herself she was just closing her eyes for a moment.
Sleep had other plans.
Alexandro returned from his client meeting to find her exactly like that — head on her arms, completely out, breathing quietly against the surface of his desk. Kelvin moved to wake her immediately.
“Don’t.”
Kelvin stopped.
Alexandro looked at her for a moment. Something about the sight of her sleeping at his desk, in his office, in the middle of the afternoon — it didn’t irritate him the way it should have.
“Get the documents for the Anthony meeting,” he said quietly.
“Sir —” Kelvin’s voice dropped to a careful whisper. “She’s sleeping on them.”
“Then leave them.”
Kelvin blinked. “Sir, the Anthony contract is worth billions. We can’t—”
“Tell Mr. Anthony to wait. If he doesn’t want to, he can walk.” Alexandro’s tone didn’t change. It never did. But the words themselves were extraordinary and both of them knew it.
Kelvin opened his mouth, closed it, then walked out to deliver the message.
He made a quiet note to himself as he reached for his phone. In all his years working for Alexandro Grant, he had never once seen the man hold a billion-dollar deal for anything. Whatever this woman was, she was not someone to underestimate.
Alexandro sat across from her and looked at her sleeping face. There was something almost painfully peaceful about it. She looked younger like this, unguarded in a way she never quite allowed herself to be when she was awake.
Without thinking about it, he reached out and gently moved a strand of hair away from her face.
He pulled his hand back slowly. Sat with the strange feeling that followed and said nothing to himself about it.
Across the city, in a house that carried the Grant name with a very different kind of weight, a woman set down her phone and rose from her seat.
She had just received word that her son had delayed a billion-dollar contract because of some unknown woman sleeping in his office.
“Prepare the car,” she said to the nearest staff member, her voice perfectly calm. “I need to go and see this distraction for myself.“
- Writer
