Chapter 12 - Eyes On Her.
1134 Words
The next morning began unusually quietly.
For Elsie Ashford, that was never a good sign.
She opened her eyes.
Stared at the ceiling.
Blink.
Blink.
She frowned.
Something was wrong.
There was no noise.
No Livia shouting from the kitchen.
No phone ringing.
No alarm.
No sound of traffic outside her apartment.
Nothing.
Elsie slowly reached for her phone.
Her eyes widened.
“OH, NO.”
She jumped out of bed.
She checked the time.
Then checked it again.
“No.”
She grabbed her clothes.
“No, no, no.”
She rushed toward the bathroom.
Her foot caught the edge of the rug.
“Whoa!”
She grabbed the doorframe.
Recovered.
Stared at the rug.
“You almost ruined my career.”
The rug remained unapologetic.
Ten minutes later, Elsie emerged from the apartment wearing her work clothes, her handbag hanging from one shoulder and her hair only partially cooperating.
She grabbed her phone.
Her keys.
Her access card.
Then stopped.
She looked around.
“Something is missing.”
She checked the table.
Nothing.
The kitchen.
Nothing.
The sofa.
Nothing.
Her eyes narrowed.
“My coffee.”
She rushed toward the kitchen.
The coffee machine was empty.
Elsie stared at it in disbelief.
“This is a workplace emergency.”
By the time Elsie reached Veyr Group, she had recovered most of her dignity.
Most.
She stepped through the enormous entrance and approached security.
The guard checked her identification.
“Miss Ashford.”
“Yes.”
“You're expected.”
Elsie smiled.
“That's good.”
The guard looked at her.
Elsie smiled again.
“I wasn't sure after yesterday.”
He simply nodded.
She walked toward the elevators.
Behind her, the enormous lobby continued moving with its usual precision.
No laughter.
No unnecessary conversation.
No wasted movement.
Elsie glanced around.
“Everyone here looks like they're attending a funeral.”
A woman passing nearby briefly looked at her.
Elsie immediately straightened.
“I mean… professionally.”
The woman continued walking.
Elsie stepped into the elevator.
The doors closed.
She exhaled.
“Good.”
She looked at her reflection.
“Professional.”
She nodded.
“Calm.”
Another nod.
“Intelligent.”
She paused.
“And definitely not someone who almost overslept.”
The elevator doors opened.
Elsie stepped out.
And immediately nearly walked into a man carrying a stack of documents.
“Oh!”
She stopped abruptly.
The documents tilted.
Elsie reached out.
The man caught them before they fell.
Silence.
Elsie slowly withdrew her hands.
“I was helping.”
The man looked at her.
“I noticed.”
She smiled awkwardly.
“Excellent.”
He walked away.
Elsie watched him disappear.
“Very professional.”
Across the building, Lucian Vale sat in his office reviewing the information gathered on Elsie Ashford.
Her academic records were exceptional.
Her background was clean.
Her employment history contained nothing unusual.
Lucian paused.
There was nothing suspicious.
Nothing that explained why Zavian had ordered him to investigate her.
He closed the report.
“Continue digging,” he instructed his assistant.
“Yes, sir.”
Lucian looked once more at Elsie's name.
Whatever Zavian wanted to know, Lucian intended to find it.
Meanwhile, Elsie was sitting across from three senior Veyr Group executives.
A large presentation screen stood behind her.
The project framework was displayed across it.
She held a marker in one hand.
“So this section is where the original projection becomes inefficient.”
One executive leaned forward.
“Explain.”
Elsie pointed toward the screen.
“The problem isn't the total allocation.”
She clicked to the next page.
“It's the distribution pattern.”
A graph appeared.
“If the resources are distributed equally across every region, the model assumes identical demand.”
She turned toward them.
“But the projected demand isn't identical.”
One executive studied the graph.
Elsie continued.
“So instead of dividing the resources equally, we create a weighted allocation system.”
She changed the graph.
“Regional priority determines the initial allocation.”
Another slide appeared.
“Then the system adjusts according to performance data.”
The room remained silent.
Elsie continued confidently.
“That means we're not locking the project into one prediction.”
She pointed to the final section.
“We're allowing the model to respond to reality.”
One executive slowly nodded.
“And the risk?”
Elsie smiled.
“That's why we introduce threshold controls.”
She displayed another diagram.
“If a region falls below the minimum performance threshold, resources are redirected.”
“And if it exceeds expectations?”
“Additional resources can be allocated without disrupting the base structure.”
The executive leaned back.
“That would reduce unnecessary expenditure.”
“Yes.”
“And improve response time.”
“Yes.”
“And the model can be monitored continuously?”
Elsie nodded.
“Exactly.”
Silence followed.
Then one of the senior executives looked toward the others.
“This is considerably more efficient.”
Elsie lowered the marker.
“Thank you.”
There was no nervousness in her voice now.
No hesitation.
The clumsy young woman from the lobby had disappeared.
In her place stood someone focused.
Analytical.
Confident.
Someone who understood exactly what she was talking about.
The meeting continued for another forty minutes.
By the end, the revised framework had been accepted for further evaluation.
Elsie gathered her documents.
“Is that everything?”
One executive nodded.
“For today.”
Elsie smiled.
“Good.”
She picked up her folder.
Then accidentally dropped her pen.
It rolled beneath the table.
Everyone looked down.
Elsie closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
One of the executives smiled faintly.
Elsie crouched to retrieve it.
“I promise the pen is not part of the strategic model.”
The tension in the room finally broke.
A quiet laugh escaped one of the executives.
Elsie stood again.
“Thank you for your time.”
She left the room.
The door closed behind her.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then one executive looked at the revised projection.
“She is far more capable than her first impression suggests.”
Another nodded.
“Much more.”
At the end of the corridor, Elsie walked toward the elevator.
She pressed the button.
The doors opened.
She stepped inside.
Just before they closed, she looked at the enormous Veyr Group logo reflected across the polished wall.
She sighed.
“Day two.”
A pause.
“Still alive.”
The doors closed.
And somewhere else in the building, a report concerning her had already begun taking shape.
Neither Elsie nor Lucian knew what it would uncover.
And neither knew that far beyond Veylora, another investigation had already begun.
Two different men.
Two different countries.
One girl.
And questions that had only just begun.
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