CHAPTER SIX:Lines Not to Be Crossed Untitled Episode
1055 Words
Work at Morningstar Enterprise had been… peaceful.
Claire wasn’t used to that word. Her life had been filled with chaos for as long as she could remember. But the past week at her new job had felt strangely smooth. She kept her head down, did her work well, and let no one distract her. She was professional, courteous, and quietly efficient—qualities that hadn’t gone unnoticed.
By Friday, she’d already earned the unspoken respect of her coworkers. Some of them even invited her to lunch. She’d politely declined, needing to rush back to Anne and her new routine with Elsa, but it felt nice to be included.
That morning, like clockwork, she arrived before 8:00 AM, dressed in a crisp white blouse and fitted grey skirt. She dropped off Anne, then went straight to the executive floor, her heels clicking against the marble.
She brought Luke’s coffee—black, no sugar, no cream—and knocked lightly on his door.
“Come in,” came his usual deep tone.
Claire entered and set the coffee on his desk. “Good morning, sir. You have a meeting with the Darlington Group at ten, a follow-up conference call with the New York branch at noon, and a legal advisory review at four.”
He barely looked up but gave a slight nod. “Understood.”
Claire turned to leave but paused. “Would you like me to set up the boardroom for the Darlington meeting?”
“Yes.”
She nodded and left, already focused on her tasks.
By ten, the boardroom gleamed. Everything was perfectly aligned—the reports, the water, the chairs. Claire had a habit of double-checking things. She hated mistakes. She hated giving people a reason to doubt her presence in a world she hadn’t been born into.
When Luke appeared, tall and unreadable as always, she walked in beside him, tablet in hand. The Darlington Group’s executives were already seated—men in their late fifties, expensive suits, and smug smiles.
The meeting began smoothly, with all polished politeness and dry discussion. Claire stood quietly to the side, taking notes, alert to every shift in tone and tension. But halfway through, she noticed something off.
One of the men—Mr. Anders, the lead negotiator, kept looking at her.
Not a glance.
A stare.
Disgusting. Lingering. Undressing her with his eyes.
Claire shifted slightly, adjusting the tablet in front of her, pretending not to notice. But Luke noticed. His jaw tensed, his pen paused mid-note. He didn’t say a word, but the air in the room shifted.
When the meeting ended and both sides stood to shake hands, Anders leaned closer to Luke, his voice low but not low enough.
“You know,” he said, with a smirk, “if you want this deal sealed properly, why don’t you throw in the girl? One night. That’s all I’m asking.”
Claire froze.
Luke’s eyes darkened, fury simmering just beneath the surface.
But before he could say a word, Claire turned sharply, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her tone calm but scathing, “but I’m not part of any negotiation. I’m a secretary, not a party favor.”
The room fell silent.
Anders’ face twisted, half in shock, half in annoyance.
Luke stared at Claire, half impressed, half something else he couldn’t name.
He stepped forward, his voice quiet but lethal. “Don’t ever speak to my employees like that again. Not if you want to keep doing business with Morningstar.”
With that, he turned and walked out.
Claire followed.
They didn’t speak in the elevator. The silence between them was thick, heavy with what had just happened. Claire wasn’t sure if she’d crossed a line, but she wasn’t sorry.
When they reached the executive floor, she returned to her desk and resumed working like nothing had happened. But Luke?
Luke stood in his office, staring out of the window.
She wasn’t just bold.
She was fearless.
His mind wandered back to Mark’s words. Are you sure she wouldn’t be a better option?
He picked up his phone.
“Mark,” he said. “I’ve made a decision.”
“About the contract marriage?”
“Yes. It’s going to be Claire Jordan.”
There was a pause. “You’re serious?”
“Yes. And do me a favor—look into her background. Everything.”
An hour later, Luke was flipping through the file Mark delivered.
Claire Jordan. Age: 20. Guardian of one younger sibling. Parents: both deceased. Father, Richard Jordan, former accountant at Morningstar Enterprise.
Luke’s eyes narrowed.
Richard Jordan had been accused of embezzlement almost a decade ago. Fired. Shamed. Found dead two weeks later.
Suicide, the file said.
Hanging. In his study.
Luke felt something twist in his gut. The story didn’t sit right. His father had always been ruthless. So had his uncles. Framing a loyal employee to cover their tracks wouldn’t be beyond them.
He picked up his private line. “I need a full investigation into Richard Jordan. Everything from ten years ago. Quiet and fast.”
“Yes, sir,” the investigator replied.
Luke leaned back, still holding the file.
He looked out the window again and saw her.
Claire stood in the courtyard below, talking to one of the junior consultants. She was smiling faintly, polite but reserved. The man leaned a little too close, laughing at something she said.
Luke’s stomach twisted unexpectedly.
Jealousy?
He scoffed at himself. It made no sense.
She was a secretary. Nothing more.
But she didn’t act like the women who usually threw themselves at him. She kept her distance. She was untouched by the power he carried, and that unsettled him more than he’d admit.
Without thinking, he reached for the office phone and dialed her extension.
“Claire,” he said when she picked up. “Come to my office. Now.”
There was a pause.
“Yes, sir.”
Claire hung up, confused. Her hands felt suddenly clammy. She hadn’t done anything wrong—or had she?
She rose from her desk, straightened her blouse, and made her way to his office with steady steps, heart thudding in her chest.
Whatever it was, she’d face it.
Just like she always did.
- Writer
