FIRST DAY OF WAR
1095 Words
The glass doors of Kade Industries opened like the gates of another world. For a moment, I just stood there, clutching my folder to my chest, claiming the tremor in my hands came from joy, not fear.
I whispered under my breath, the words tasting like steel. “You wanted this, Father. I’m here now. I’ll finish what you couldn’t.”
The entrance was blinding polished marble floors, a chandelier like dripping crystal fire, and people moving with quick, efficient steps. Nobody stayed, nobody wasted time. This was Nicholas Jackson’s kingdom. Cold. Ruthless. And now, mine to enter.
A woman in a red blazer approached, shoes clicking like gunshots. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“You must be the new secretary,” she said coolly. “Amarae Grey, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I answered, steady but polite.
“I’m Amanda,” she said, her gaze running over me like a knife. “I’ve been here long enough to know when someone doesn’t belong. Let’s get one thing clearKade Industries doesn’t have room for mistakes. And I don’t share space well.”
I forced a small smile. “Good thing I’m not here to make mistakes.”
Her lips twitched, the closest thing to a sneer. “We’ll see.”
The rest of the morning was a blur of introductions, passwords, and being handed jobs clearly meant to test how quickly I’d break. Amanda lurked close, correcting me on things I hadn’t even done wrong. Every time I opened my mouth, she interrupted. Every time I typed, she leaned over my shoulder.
By noon, my temper was fading. But I told myself: fights aren’t won in a single battle.
Still, it was hard not to notice the way everyone in the office whispered when Nicholas’s name was mentioned. Fear rippled through the halls like a quiet religion.
And then, his door opened.
Nicholas Jackson stepped out, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and authoritative. His presence sucked the air from the room. Tall, sharp suit, colder eyes. Even Amanda tensed, her vanity melting into fawning professionalism.
He barely glanced at me. But when his look did flicker my way, it stayed just a fraction too long, like a predator measuring distance before the strike.
By late afternoon, Amanda sent me into Nicholas’s office with a file. I knew it was a trick the moment she smirked.
But I went anyway.
The office was a palace of power. Wide windows facing the city backdrop, a desk like a fortress, shelves lined with books no one had touched in years. It smelled slightly of wood and something darker, something that was distinctly him.
I set the file down on his desk, but my eyes were drawn like a moth to flame to a stack of papers carelessly left open.
At first, I told myself not to look. Then I remembered my father’s face the night he fell, the sound of him gasping for air while headlines screamed FRAUD across every screen.
I moved closer.
The papers weren’t regular reports. They were contracts, secret subsidiaries, offshore accounts tied to people I recognized from the whispers surrounding my father’s case. My heart thundered. This wasn't a chance.
I leaned in, skimming line after line, my stomach dropping deeper. There was something here. Something that could prove Nicholas wasn’t just ruthless he was involved.
Then the door clicked shut behind me.
“Curiosity,” Nicholas’s voice slid across the room like silk over a blade, “is a dangerous habit.”
I froze.
Slowly, I turned. He was leaning against the door, arms folded, eyes locked on me. There was no softness in them, only mistrust, sharp and ruthless.
“II was just delivering the file Amanda asked for,” I stammered, though my voice revealed nothing of the storm inside me.
“Really?” His smirk was slow, cold. “Because from here, it looks like you were trespassing in places you don’t belong.”
My breath caught. He moved closer, each step measured, intentional, until the desk parted us by only inches.
“I don’t tolerate lies, Miss Grey,” he said quietly, his voice laced with threat. “And I don’t tolerate secrets. So tell me what you were hoping to find?”
“I wasn’t” I began, but he cut me off with a sharp laugh that wasn’t laughter at all.
“You think I don’t see it? The way you watch me. The way your eyes stay, not just on me, but on everything that belongs to me. You came here with an agenda.”
My heart pounded so loud I feared he could hear it. “Maybe I just wanted to understand the man I work for.”
He leaned in, his voice a dangerous whisper against my ear. “Or maybe you wanted to destroy him.”
I swallowed hard, pushing myself not to flinch. “If that’s true, wouldn’t I need proof first?”
For a moment, silence stretched, thick and smothering. Then his mouth curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’re clever,” he whispered. “Clever enough to survive this place. Clever enough to be dangerous.”
His eyes dropped briefly to the papers, then back to me. “But let me make one thing clear, Amarae Grey. This office? This company? This city? They’re mine. And if you ever step out of line again, I won’t hesitate to crush you.”
Heat flushed through me not fear, but anger. He thought he could frighten me into silence. He thought he could scare me away from the truth.
I lifted my chin, meeting his stare head-on. “Then I guess we’ll see who breaks first.”
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not suspicion. Something more dangerous. Something that felt like recognition.
The phone on his desk rang, breaking the strain. He didn’t move, didn’t look away.
“You may go,” he said eventually, his voice clipped. “But remember, I’m watching.”
I turned, pushing myself to walk quietly toward the door. But as my hand gripped the handle, his closing words pinned me in place.
“And Amarae?”
I froze.
He spoke softly, dangerously. “The first day is always the hardest. But war? War is what comes after.”
My heart roared as I stepped out of his office, the sound of his words sinking like claws into my skin.
The war had already started. And I had just been caught red-handed.
- Writer
