HIS SALVATION

Chapter 25 - A Matter Of Time

ROOK

At an inconspicuous building in the middle-level area of Newhaven, a ringtone suddenly sounded inside a modest apartment.

A man stood beside the window, one hand resting casually in his pocket as he looked down at the busy street below. Cars moved through the intersection, people hurried along the sidewalks, and the city continued with its usual rhythm, completely unaware of the man watching from above.

His phone rang again.

Rook glanced at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

A voice came from the other end.

“We missed.”

Rook's expression didn't change.

“I know.”

A brief pause followed.

“Do we continue with the orders?”

Rook's gaze remained fixed on the street.

“Hmm.”

He ended the call.

For several seconds, he stood motionless.

Then he pulled up another number and dialed.

The call was answered almost immediately.

A cold voice came from the other end.

“What?”

There was an edge of impatience in the single word.

“You better say it's done.”

Rook leaned against the window frame.

“It will take time.”

Silence.

Then the voice sharpened.

“How much time do you need for such a small task? You're getting rusty.”

Rook's eyes narrowed slightly.

“I don't want to draw attention.”

He paused.

“If someone gets suspicious and starts an investigation, we would be in trouble.”

Silence settled over the line.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Rook waited.

Finally, the cold voice returned.

“You have two weeks at most.”

The call ended.

Rook slowly lowered the phone.

His eyes returned to the streets below.

Two weeks.

His jaw tightened.

Whatever the task was, failure was no longer an option.

VEYR GROUP

Elsie rushed toward Veyr Group, her bag bouncing against her side with every hurried step.

She had barely made it halfway there when she pulled out her phone.

Elsie: Come to my place tonight.

A few seconds later, the reply arrived.

Livia: Why?

Elsie typed rapidly.

Elsie: We have a mystery to solve.

The typing indicator appeared immediately.

Livia: WHAT MYSTERY?

Elsie smiled to herself.

Elsie: I'll tell you tonight. Don't make plans.

Livia: Elsie, you can't just say mystery and expect me to function normally all day.

Elsie slipped her phone into her bag.

“Exactly.”

She reached the entrance of Veyr Group and stepped through the revolving doors, already feeling slightly more comfortable than she had during her first visits.

She had barely taken three steps when someone called her name.

“Good morning, Elsie!”

Elsie turned.

Aelia stood near the reception area, holding a tablet against her chest.

“Good morning!” Elsie replied brightly.

Then she paused.

“Actually…”

Aelia raised an eyebrow.

“It's a mystery morning.”

Aelia blinked.

“A what?”

“A mystery morning.”

“That's not a thing.”

“It is today.”

Aelia stared at her for a moment before sighing.

“Okay. What happened?”

Elsie leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically.

“I woke up this morning and found an unauthorized gift sitting on my dresser.”

Aelia's eyebrows shot upward.

“Unauthorized?”

“Yes.”

“Like… someone sent you something?”

“That's the problem. I don't know who.”

Aelia immediately became interested.

“What was it?”

Elsie described the gift, including the strange circumstances surrounding it.

Aelia listened carefully, occasionally asking a question.

“Did you hear anyone outside your apartment?”

“No.”

“Any note?”

“No.”

“Any delivery notification?”

“Nothing.”

Aelia frowned.

“That is strange.”

“Exactly!”

Elsie pointed at her triumphantly.

“I knew you would understand.”

“I didn't say I understood. I said it was strange.”

“Same thing.”

“It absolutely isn't.”

Elsie grinned.

Aelia shook her head.

“Maybe someone knows you.”

“That would be comforting if they had introduced themselves first.”

“Could be someone from work.”

Elsie's smile faded slightly.

“That's what I'm trying to figure out.”

Aelia thought for a moment.

“Whatever you do, don't ignore it.”

“I won't.”

“And tell me if you find anything.”

Elsie nodded solemnly.

“Tonight. Livia and I are investigating.”

Aelia laughed.

“Of course you are.”

The two friends eventually parted ways, heading toward their respective departments.

By the time Elsie reached her desk, she had already pushed the mystery to the back of her mind.

There was work to do.

Unfortunately, work had its own surprises waiting for her.

“Elsie.”

She looked up.

One of her colleagues stood beside her desk.

“I wanted to let you know that a meeting with the CEO has been scheduled for this afternoon.”

Elsie straightened.

“With whom?”

The answer made her stomach drop.

“The CEO.”

Elsie's eyes widened.

“The CEO?”

She pointed at herself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Why?”

“Because you're the project supervisor.”

“Oh.”

She slowly lowered her hand.

“And Westbridge's representative.”

“Exactly.”

Elsie stared at her computer.

Right.

Of course.

She had known this.

She had been overseeing the joint Westbridge–Veyr project for some time now. Reporting directly to the CEO was simply part of the responsibility.

So why did it suddenly feel like she had been informed of an upcoming examination?

She spent the morning reviewing the project's latest figures, milestones, risk assessments, and performance reports.

The technical teams had resolved the earlier integration errors. The data synchronization issues between the two companies' systems had been corrected, and the revised implementation schedule was progressing according to plan.

Westbridge's contribution was also moving forward smoothly, particularly in strategic coordination, international stakeholder communication, and resource alignment.

Elsie checked everything twice.

Then a third time.

Then she checked whether she had checked it correctly.

By lunchtime, she had developed a personal relationship with the project checklist.

“You're staring at that paper like it betrayed you,” Aelia remarked.

Elsie looked up.

“It did.”

Aelia laughed.

For all the intimidating atmosphere that surrounded Veyr Group, lunch had somehow become the most cheerful part of Elsie's day.

The conversation around her table was lively, filled with complaints about meetings, jokes about the coffee machine, and dramatic declarations that the cafeteria had committed a crime against dessert.

Elsie defended the pudding.

“Don't insult the pudding.”

“It tastes like rubber.”

“Then you clearly lack refined taste.”

“You ate two.”

“Exactly. I have evidence.”

The table erupted in laughter.

Even Aelia was laughing so hard she nearly dropped her spoon.

After lunch, however, reality returned.

Elsie stood before the elevator, holding her report tightly.

“Okay,” she whispered.

She inhaled.

“You know the project.”

Exhale.

“You know the numbers.”

Another breath.

“You know what you're doing.”

The elevator doors opened.

Elsie stepped inside.

“And you're definitely not going to embarrass yourself.”

The doors closed.

She frowned.

“That sounded suspiciously like something that guarantees embarrassment.”

The elevator reached the top executive floor.

Elsie stepped out.

She cheerfully greeted everyone she passed, despite the nervous flutter in her stomach.

Finally, she reached the CEO's office.

She straightened her clothes.

Checked her report.

Checked it again.

Then knocked.

“Come in.”

Elsie opened the door.

Zavian Veyr sat behind his desk, reviewing several documents.

He looked exactly as intimidating as always.

And unfairly handsome.

Almost unnaturally so.

Elsie's eyes betrayed her before her brain could stop them.

His sharp features.

The dark hair.

The composed expression.

The eyes that always seemed to notice everything.

She stared for a second too long.

Then Livia's voice echoed in her memory.

Don't fall for anyone.

Especially not your boss.

Elsie immediately looked away.

No.

Absolutely not.

She approached the desk.

Without lifting his head, Zavian said,

“Report.”

Elsie froze.

That was it?

No greeting?

No good afternoon?

Just—

“Report.”

“Right.”

She cleared her throat.

“Report.”

Zavian finally lifted his eyes.

Elsie swallowed.

“I mean… I am here to report.”

A tiny pause.

“I understood that.”

“Oh.”

Excellent start.

She opened her file.

“The joint project's current implementation phase is progressing according to the revised schedule. The previous data-integration discrepancies between the Westbridge and Veyr systems have been resolved after the synchronization protocol was recalibrated.”

Zavian watched her.

Elsie continued.

“The error rate has consequently dropped, and the cross-platform validation process has entered its final verification stage.”

She turned a page.

“Westbridge International has completed its strategic coordination requirements, including partner-resource alignment, international stakeholder communication, and the restructuring of the project workflow to improve interdepartmental efficiency.”

Her voice became steadier as she spoke.

This was the part she knew.

Numbers.

Patterns.

Reports.

Strategy.

This was where Elsie stopped being the clumsy girl who tripped over absolutely everything and became the intelligent young professional who had earned her place on the project.

Zavian noticed.

He said nothing.

Elsie continued.

“The next milestone is scheduled according to the revised implementation timeline. The remaining risks are primarily operational rather than structural, and we've already assigned mitigation measures to the relevant teams.”

She glanced at her notes.

Then at Zavian.

Then back at her notes.

“The projected completion rate is—”

Her elbow accidentally nudged the edge of the file.

The papers slid.

Elsie's eyes widened.

“No.”

She lunged for them.

One paper slipped to the floor.

Then another.

Then another.

She bent down quickly.

“I apologize.”

She grabbed one.

Another slid underneath the desk.

She stared at it.

Of course.

Why wouldn't it?

She reached beneath the desk.

“I swear this report was behaving perfectly five minutes ago.”

Silence.

Elsie froze.

She slowly looked up.

Zavian was watching her.

Her face heated.

“I mean…”

She retrieved the paper.

“Reports don't actually behave.”

Another silence.

“Usually.”

She stood.

“I'm going to stop talking now.”

Zavian's expression remained unreadable.

Elsie desperately wished the floor would open.

Instead, she returned the papers to the file.

She cleared her throat and continued the report.

This time, she managed to finish without dropping anything.

When she reached the final point, she closed the file.

“That concludes the progress report.”

Zavian looked at her for several seconds.

“The figures?”

Elsie immediately opened the file again.

“Yes. The figures are attached in the supplementary analysis.”

“Leave the report.”

“Oh.”

She placed it carefully on his desk.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

Elsie nodded.

“Thank you.”

She turned toward the door.

Then stopped.

She looked back.

“I'm sorry about the papers.”

Zavian's eyes remained on her.

“They were papers.”

Elsie blinked.

“Yes.”

A pause.

“They survived.”

For one second, Elsie wasn't sure whether he was joking.

Then she decided it was safer not to investigate.

“Good.”

She hurried out.

The door closed behind her.

Elsie stood in the hallway.

Then she covered her face with both hands.

“Elsie Ashford…”

She groaned quietly.

“Why?”

She walked toward the elevator, mentally replaying every second.

Reports don't actually behave.

She wanted to disappear.

By the time she reached her department, she was still scolding herself.

She dropped into her chair and immediately pulled the project checklist toward her.

One by one, she checked the completed points.

Everything was in order.

The report was accurate.

The figures were correct.

The progress was on schedule.

Nothing had gone wrong.

Except her dignity.

Elsie leaned back in her chair and released a long sigh.

“Professional,” she muttered.

Then she buried her face in her hands.

“Very professional, Elsie.”