Whispers Between Us

Price of Silence

"Or you can come inside and hear the offer I'm about to make."

Every instinct screamed at me to leave.

Normal people didn't receive offers from billionaires.

Especially not after accidentally spying on a secret meeting.

"I think I'll choose the first option," I said quickly.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Ethan smiled.

It wasn't a warm smile.

It wasn't even a happy one.

It was the smile of someone who already knew how the conversation would end.

"Interesting."

My confidence immediately disappeared.

Behind him, the older men exchanged amused glances.

I hated that.

I hated feeling like I was the only person who didn't understand what was happening.

"I'm serious," I said. "I didn't hear much. I don't even know what you were talking about."

"That may be true."

Ethan's gaze remained fixed on mine.

"But you were still here."

I swallowed.

The rain outside continued pounding against the windows.

The office suddenly felt very far away from the rest of the world.

"Come inside, Miss Lia."

His voice wasn't loud.

Yet somehow it felt impossible to ignore.

Against my better judgment, I stepped into the room.

The door closed behind me with a soft click.

For some reason, that sound made me nervous.

The office was even more intimidating up close.

Everything looked expensive.

The desk.

The chairs.

The artwork hanging on the walls.

One decorative sculpture probably cost more than a year's worth of my tuition.

I resisted the urge to touch anything.

"Sit."

I looked around.

"Was that a request?"

"No."

Of course it wasn't.

I sat down.

One of the older men chuckled.

Ethan didn't react.

He simply took his seat across from me.

The position felt deliberate.

Like an interview.

Or an interrogation.

Maybe both.

"What year are you in college?" he asked.

The question caught me off guard.

"Second year."

"What major?"

"Business Management."

One eyebrow lifted slightly.

Interesting.

Apparently even billionaires could be surprised.

"Scholarship student?"

I blinked.

"How did you know?"

He glanced at my worn backpack.

Right.

Of course.

I suddenly wished I had a better one.

A silence settled between us.

Not comfortable.

Not awkward.

Dangerous.

The kind of silence where important decisions were being made.

Then Ethan leaned back.

"I have a proposal."

There it was.

The reason I was here.

The reason nobody had thrown me out yet.

I didn't like where this was going.

"What kind of proposal?"

"A job."

I stared.

"A... job?"

"Yes."

Out of every possible answer, that was not the one I expected.

I looked around the office.

Then back at him.

Then around the office again.

"No offense, but this feels like the beginning of a k********g documentary."

One of the older men burst out laughing.

Ethan looked mildly annoyed.

Which, oddly enough, was the first human expression I'd seen from him.

"I assure you," he said dryly, "I am not k********g you."

"That's exactly what a kidnapper would say."

The laughing man nearly choked.

For a brief second, Ethan actually looked amused.

The expression disappeared so quickly I wondered if I imagined it.

Then he slid a document across the table.

A contract.

My stomach sank.

Of course there was a contract.

Billionaires probably signed contracts before deciding what to eat for breakfast.

"Personal assistant," he said.

I looked down.

Then looked up.

Then looked down again.

The salary made my eyes widen.

Surely there was an extra zero.

Maybe two.

That amount of money could cover my tuition.

My rent.

My mother's medical bills.

Everything.

The realization hit hard.

Ethan noticed.

Of course he noticed.

People like him noticed everything.

"You need the money."

It wasn't a question.

I hated that he was right.

"I don't understand," I admitted.

"Why me?"

The room became quiet.

The older men stopped smiling.

Ethan's expression returned to unreadable.

Then he answered.

"Because I don't trust coincidences."

A chill ran down my spine.

"You think I was spying on you?"

"I think a girl accidentally appearing outside that office at that exact moment is unlikely."

"But it happened."

"Perhaps."

His gaze sharpened.

"Which is why I'd rather keep you close."

The words should have sounded reassuring.

They didn't.

Not even a little.

For the first time, I realized something important.

This job wasn't an opportunity.

It was surveillance disguised as employment.

And somehow...

That frightened me more than if he'd simply accused me.

Ethan folded his hands.

"You have until tomorrow morning to decide."

I stood immediately.

"Good."

The chair nearly tipped over.

"I'll think about it."

"You'll accept."

My jaw dropped.

The confidence in his voice was infuriating.

"You don't know that."

For the first time all evening, Ethan's eyes drifted to the contract.

Then back to me.

"No," he said calmly.

"I know exactly what desperation looks like."

The words hit harder than they should have.

Because deep down...

I knew he was right.

And for the first time in my life, I hated being understood.