Chapter 7
1184 Words
Amelia Hayes stood at the base of Lyric Industries’ towering glass building with a mixture of awe and nerves swirling in her chest. The sun hit the reflective panels just right, making the entire structure glow like a monument carved out of pure ambition. People flowed in and out of the lobby, dressed in smart suits and moving with the confidence of those who belonged.
Amelia swallowed.
Today, she belonged here too.
She smoothed the front of her blouse, tightened her grip on her handbag, and stepped inside. The moment she entered, cool air brushed her skin, carrying the faint scent of polished marble and citrus cleaners. The lobby stretched upward five floors, an architectural statement of power. The Lyric Industries emblem—an elegant silver wolf head—hung overhead like a guardian.
“Good morning, Miss Hayes,” the receptionist said, clearly expecting her. “Mr. Lyric asked that you come straight to the executive floor.”
Mr. Lyric.
Ethan.
She still wasn’t used to the effect his name had on her thoughts.
“Thank you,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
The elevator ride felt like ascending into a different world entirely. Each floor chimed past until the digital screen flashed:
EXECUTIVE LEVEL — RESTRICTED ACCESS
The doors parted silently.
This floor looked different from the rest—quiet, expensive, and tinted with authority. The walls were deeper shades, the rugs thicker, and the air felt… heavier. As Amelia stepped out, her new ID badge blinked green at the security panel.
She had made it.
“Miss Hayes,” a woman from HR greeted warmly. “Welcome to your first day. I’ll give you a brief orientation, then Mr. Lyric has requested your presence in his office.”
Requested?
Amelia wasn’t sure whether to be excited or terrified.
Orientation
They moved through the executive wing, where Amelia learned her responsibilities: organizing reports, forwarding boardroom documents, scheduling internal meetings, and assisting any department that required urgent administrative help. It was a lot—but she had handled “a lot” her entire life.
When they reached a sleek desk beside a set of double doors, the HR rep smiled.
“This will be your workstation. And behind these doors”—she placed a hand on the smooth wood—“is Mr. Ethan Lyric’s office. He said you can step in once you’re settled.”
Amelia nodded. “Thank you.”
When the woman left, Amelia took a deep breath, adjusted her laptop, and arranged her small notepad. She rehearsed the usual greeting in her head. Good morning, Mr. Lyric. No, that sounded stiff. Maybe— Good morning, sir. No, that sounded worse. She shook her head.
Eventually, she raised her hand and knocked.
“Come in,” Ethan’s voice called from inside.
---
Ethan Lyric
Ethan’s office was larger than her entire apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city. The décor was sharp—black, silver, and warm wood accents that softened the room without diminishing its luxury. Ethan himself stood near the window, his suit jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he scanned a printed report.
He turned when she entered.
For a moment, his usually composed expression shifted—softening just a fraction. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but Amelia caught it.
“Miss Hayes,” he said, recovering instantly. “Welcome to your first day.”
“Good morning, sir,” she said carefully. “I’m ready to begin.”
His eyes flickered with something like approval. “Good. I have a few departments requesting document support. But first—” he tapped the folder on his desk— “I want you to accompany me to a brief meeting. It’s nothing complicated, but I’d like you to take notes.”
“Of course,” she replied.
He nodded, then stood straighter, adjusting his watch. “You’ll do fine, Amelia.”
Her heart skipped. He rarely used her first name.
Before she could respond, a sudden knock hit the door.
Ethan’s jaw shifted subtly.
“Enter.”
---
Marcus Lyric stepped inside like he owned the building. His expensive suit strained slightly around the stomach area, but the smugness on his face made up for any imperfections. His eyes immediately flicked to Amelia, scanning her in the way people evaluate something new—not someone new.
“So this is the new assistant,” he said. Not a greeting. More of a judgment.
Amelia straightened politely. “Good morning, sir.”
Marcus smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ethan, you really do enjoy collecting strays.”
Amelia stiffened.
Ethan’s expression cooled instantly. “She’s qualified. That’s all that matters.”
Marcus chuckled low. “Of course. And I’m sure her… persistence helped.” His tone dipped into something too suggestive.
Ethan stepped closer—subtle, but protective. “Watch your words, uncle.”
Marcus raised a brow. “Relax. It was a compliment.”
It absolutely wasn’t.
Ethan turned slightly toward Amelia. “Miss Hayes, please wait outside for a moment.”
She hesitated—his tone wasn’t anger, but control. He was protecting her from whatever conversation was about to happen. She nodded and stepped out quietly.
The door closed behind her, but not before she overheard Marcus’s last remark:
“You’re running out of time, Ethan. And the council won’t go easy on you.”
---
Twenty minutes later, Ethan emerged, composed again, though tension lingered in the set of his shoulders.
“Come,” he said. “We’re heading to the meeting room.”
As they walked, Amelia kept her steps quiet, giving him space. But halfway down the hall, Ethan spoke.
“Don’t take anything my uncle said personally. He enjoys provoking people.”
“I understand,” she replied gently. “But I’m here to work, sir. Nothing more.”
Ethan glanced at her, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
“Good,” he murmured. “Let’s keep it that way.”
But his tone didn’t quite match the words—and Amelia felt it.
---
During the meeting, Amelia took organized, clear notes. Ethan watched her once or twice, and each time she felt unexpectedly encouraged. When the meeting ended, she arranged the minutes quickly and handed the summary to him.
He scanned it, then looked at her.
“This is excellent work, Miss Hayes.”
Warm pride blossomed in her chest. “Thank you, sir.”
“Keep this up,” he said, “and you’ll go far here.”
---
By the time she wrapped up her tasks and packed her bag, Amelia felt tired but fulfilled. Ethan wasn’t in his office, so she prepared to leave quietly. But as she passed the elevator, he appeared, phone in hand.
“You survived your first day,” he said, almost teasing.
She smiled. “Barely.”
He chuckled. “You did well.”
The elevator doors opened.
“See you tomorrow, Amelia.”
As they parted ways, she couldn’t shake one feeling:
This job was going to change everything.
- Writer
