Chapter 6:His Fiancée Declared War
1329 Words
Clara’s POV
Vanessa corners me by the elevators two days later, appearing so suddenly I almost drop the folder in my hands.
“Clara, right?” She smiles like we’re old friends catching up, though we’ve technically only met once, briefly, over a stack of coffee mugs neither of us drank.
“Of course.” I clutch the folder a little tighter, glancing toward the elevator doors, willing them to open faster than seems physically possible. “Is there something you need for the merger paperwork?”
“Oh, nothing like that.” She waves a manicured hand, dismissing the question entirely. “I just think it’s important we know each other, don’t you? Since you spend so much time with my fiancé.”
“I’m his secretary. It’s the job.” My voice stays level, though something under my ribs tightens at the way she says the word fiancé, like it’s a fact she needs to remind me of.
“Six years of just the job.” She tilts her head, studying me with the same clinical interest she had in his office the other night. “That’s a long time to stay so devoted to one man’s calendar, don’t you think?”
“I like my work.” I press the elevator call button again, though it’s already lit. “Cole Industries has been good to me.”
“Has Damian been good to you?” The question comes out light, almost playful, but her eyes don’t match her tone at all. “I only ask because he mentions you constantly. Clara handles that. Clara already knows. Ask Clara.” She laughs, a bright, brittle sound. “It’s almost like he can’t function without you.”
“He’s a busy man. I try to make things easier for him.” I keep my voice steady, professional, though my pulse is climbing fast enough that I can feel it in my throat.
“How selfless of you.” Vanessa tilts her head, studying me the way you’d study a painting you weren’t quite sure was real or a forgery. “Tell me, do you have plans of your own, Clara? A life outside these walls? Or has Cole Industries simply become the whole of it?”
“I have a family. A sister. A mother I look after.” I hold her gaze, refusing to let the question rattle me even though it clearly wants to. “I have plenty outside these walls.”
“I’m sure you do.” Something behind her eyes sharpens, though her smile never wavers. “I’m sure you do.”
“I’m sure you do.” Vanessa steps closer, close enough that I catch the sharp, expensive scent of her perfume. “Tell me, Clara, do you ever get tired of being so indispensable to someone who’ll never actually see you as anything more than staff?”
“I don’t think of myself that way.” The words come out quieter than I intend, and I hate how much they cost me to say.
“No?” Her smile sharpens slightly, though it never wavers. “How refreshing. Most women in your position at least have the self-awareness to know exactly where they stand.”
“If you’ll excuse me.” I press the elevator button a third time, desperate now for the doors to open. “I have a meeting.”
“Of course.” She steps back, letting me pass, but her voice follows me into the elevator as the doors start to close. “I do think, though, that it might be time for a change. Maybe a different department. Somewhere that doesn’t require quite so much… proximity.”
The doors shut before I can respond, and I spend the entire ride down trying to convince myself I imagined the threat buried inside her pleasant, perfect smile. I don’t imagine it. Not really. Not when I hear her repeat almost the exact same suggestion an hour later, loud enough that half the executive floor can hear it through his open office door.
“I just think Clara might be better suited to a different role,” Vanessa says, standing in the doorway of his office with her arms crossed, her voice carrying easily down the hall. “For everyone’s comfort.”
I freeze at my desk three offices away, folder still clutched against my chest, straining to hear Damian’s response.
“Her comfort, or yours?” His voice carries an edge I’ve rarely heard him use, even in the hardest negotiations. “She’s not going anywhere, Vanessa.”
“I’m simply suggesting—”
“I heard what you suggested.” He doesn’t raise his voice, but something in the flatness of it makes even me go still. “Clara runs half this company’s operations. She’s not a scheduling inconvenience you get to shuffle around because you don’t like how close she sits to my desk.”
“I’m only thinking of appearances, Damian. The board, the press, all of it.” Vanessa’s voice stays smooth, reasonable, the kind of tone that makes an unreasonable request sound perfectly sane. “It reflects poorly on both of us if people start talking.”
“Then let them talk.” His voice cuts through hers, sharper now. “I’m not reorganizing six years of institutional knowledge because you’re uncomfortable with a hardworking employee.”
There’s a pause, long enough that I wonder if Vanessa’s left without another word. Then her voice comes again, quieter now, colder, though I can still make out every syllable.
“Careful, Damian. People are starting to notice the way you look at her.”
I don’t hear his response. I’m already walking away from my desk, down the hall, anywhere that isn’t within earshot of a conversation I have absolutely no business overhearing. My hands are shaking by the time I reach the break room, and I press them flat against the counter, trying to steady myself before anyone sees.
People are starting to notice. The words loop through my head like a warning bell. I’ve spent six years being careful, invisible, professional to the point of erasing myself entirely. If people are starting to notice something, it means I’ve already failed at the one thing I promised myself I’d never let happen.
“Hey.” Priya finds me a few minutes later, studying my face with the particular concern she reserves for actual emergencies. “You look like you saw a ghost. Again.”
“I’m fine.” I pour a coffee I don’t actually want, just to have something to do with my hands.
“You’re really not.” She leans against the counter, lowering her voice. “What happened? Did Vanessa say something to you?”
“She cornered me by the elevator. Asked a lot of pointed questions.” I wrap both hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. “Then I overheard her trying to get me reassigned to another department. Damian shut it down before it went anywhere.”
“He did?” Priya’s eyebrows shoot up. “In front of her?”
“Loud enough that I heard every word from three offices away.” I take a sip of coffee I don’t even want, mostly to have something to do with my hands. “Which means everyone else probably heard it too.”
“Clara.” Priya’s voice softens, losing its usual teasing edge. “That woman is not going to let this go. You know that, right?”
“I know.” I set the mug down, my hands finally steady. “Believe me, I know.”
But it isn’t nothing, and we both know it. Somewhere down the hall, Vanessa Hale has just declared quiet war on me, and the worst part isn’t even her threat.
The worst part is that some small, terrified corner of my heart is glad Damian didn’t let her win.
- Writer
