Ascending To Him

CHAPTER 3: SHADOW PROMOTION

​~ Lyra Thorne ~

​When lunchtime arrived, the office filled with the scent of Italian pizzas ordered from outside and freshly brewed coffee. My stomach was waging a total civil war against these smells, but my priority lay elsewhere. I went to the water cooler and filled my eighth glass. As the tasteless, cold sensation of the water swirled in my empty stomach, my only thought was the 3 dollars in my pocket. Those 3 dollars were my only ticket to that shop in Queens tonight. In New York, you could survive without many things, but being without transit money meant being crushed between the gears of this city.

​When I returned to my desk, I had finished Emma’s reports, organizing everything into a flawless folder. Emma was sitting at her desk, filing her nails. Marcus Black’s sudden visit this morning had completely rattled her. When she saw me, she dropped the file and pulled a black, metallic card from her drawer. It had no name, no logo; just a matte surface.

​"Lyra, Marcus wants the reports personally," Emma said, handing me the card. "Someone from Marcus’s team brought this to me. You can't operate the elevator without scanning this. You know you need authorization on the touch panel to go to the high floors. I... I’m too tired today, I don’t have the energy to go up there. You take it."

​As I took the card, the coldness of the metal spread to my fingertips. This card was a key to the absolute power held by top executives in the Vance Corp hierarchy. Unlike ordinary employees, when you scanned this card, the elevator didn’t question you; it locked directly onto where you needed to go.

​"One more thing..." Emma said, lowering her voice and checking the surroundings. She pulled a small, white envelope from under her desk. "As I promised, I arranged a portion of your bonus in cash. There’s 300 dollars inside. Manage with this for now."

​300 dollars. I snatched the envelope quickly and tucked it into the hidden pocket of my jacket. I immediately began calculating the cost of the necklace in my mind. Would 300 dollars be enough to get it back? How much could my father have sold it for? This money at least gave me a bargaining chip.

​I headed for the elevator. There were no buttons in this building; everything consisted of seamless touch panels. When normal employees scanned their cards, only the light for their specific floor would illuminate. I brought the black card in my hand toward the reader. With a slight beep, the screen went dark, and then the words "100th FLOOR - ACCESS GRANTED" appeared in blood-red text. Without needing to press a single number, the elevator doors closed and began to slide upward.

​I only felt the vibration as the elevator ascended. I was distancing myself from the noisy, humid, and chaotic world of the 1st floor. When the doors opened, what greeted me was a deep silence. The air here didn’t smell like the cheap cleaning supplies of the lower floors; it was like a faint scent of wood. I gave the secretary Emma’s name and was directed to Marcus Black’s private office.

​When I knocked and entered, I found Marcus at his massive, black glass desk. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. As I approached, he looked up and stood. The man was so tall that I had to tilt my chin up just to make eye contact. I couldn't help but think to myself, "Why are these guys so tall? Are they all manufactured in a special factory?" If this was a display of power, it was definitely working. This thought caused the corner of my mouth to curl for a moment, but I quickly composed myself.

​"The reports are ready, sir," I said, placing the folder on the desk.

​Instead of looking at the reports, Marcus focused directly on my eyes. "Emma didn't make these corrections, did she, Lyra? You changed the algorithms yourself."

​I swallowed but didn't look away. "I fixed them, sir. The errors were putting the department at risk." I thought I had only corrected a few shifted numbers by Emma, but the strange, dark glint in Marcus's eyes told me something else. It was as if I had unknowingly uncovered something much bigger—perhaps a vulnerability in the company. But he wasn't going to tell me that.

​"I didn't ask if you fixed them. You created this logic," he said, taking a step toward me. As his shadow fell over me, I got stuck on that height issue again. "You’re trying to survive, Lyra Thorne. I saw the same thing when you walked toward me with such ambition in the parking lot this morning, and I see it now as you look into my eyes. I see hunger in you."

​His gaze shifted to my shoes for a moment. "Intelligence alone isn't enough; you need ambition. You have plenty of both."

​My legs felt a bit shaky as I left his office, but I couldn't stop. I went straight down to the 1st floor and packed my things. It was exactly 6:00 PM. I had 3 dollars for bus fare and 300 dollars in cash in my jacket.

​I hurried out of the building and walked to the bus stop. Taxis were flowing past like a yellow streak, but I couldn't afford to spend 20 or 30 dollars on the ride. Every single cent was for my necklace. I got on the bus and sat in the very back. All the way, I gripped the envelope in my pocket as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

​It was already dark when I arrived at that old square in Queens. My heart was pounding against my ribs as I stood under the flickering lights of the shop labeled Gold & Silver. When I stepped inside, the smell of metallic dampness filled my nose. The old jeweler dropped his magnifying glass when he saw me.

​"You're back, little lady," the man said mockingly.

​"I want it," I said, placing 300 dollars on the counter. "Now."

​The man looked at the money, then shook his head. "Your father bought this from me for 200, but I've already put it in the display case. This is an antique piece; the craftsmanship is excellent. The price is 850 dollars. But for your sake, let's say 800."

​My world collapsed. 800 dollars? "This is literally robbery! That's already my necklace!"

​"The laws don't work like that here, kid. Bring the money, take the necklace. If you don't, it'll be sold to someone else in the window tomorrow."

​I had 300 dollars in my pocket. I needed more than 500 dollars more. Because I also needed bus fare to get to work tomorrow. When I left the shop, I stood frozen in the cold, dark streets of Queens. Desperation settled in my throat like a knot, but I wasn't going to cry. I knew by now that crying wasn't a solution.

​Just then, I noticed a black, luxury car waiting at the corner of the street. The rear window slid down slowly. Marcus Black was looking at me with those ice-cold eyes.

​"Are you going to give up so easily for 800 dollars, Lyra?" he said. His voice was so distant yet so powerful.

​He had followed me. I didn't ask how he found me; he was Marcus Black, he could find out whatever he wanted.

​"Get in," he said, opening the door. "If you really want that necklace, you'll have to prove to me why you deserve more than 800 dollars."

​With that door open, I had two choices: I would either say goodbye to the last memory of my mother in this filthy street of Queens, or I would enter this man's dangerous world and take that necklace back by force.

​I didn't hesitate. I stood tall and got into the car. When the door closed, there was no turning back for Lyra Thorne.

​The smell of leather and the silence inside the car cut through the noise of the outside world like a blade. Marcus didn't tell the driver to move; we just sat there.

​"Why are you after that necklace?" Marcus asked. "800 dollars might be a huge price for you, but for me, it's just a tip for a dinner. Is it worth taking such a risk for that piece?"

​"It might just be jewelry to you," I said, trying to keep my voice as firm as possible. "But to me, it's the only thing that reminds me of who I am. The last piece left of my mother."

​Marcus turned toward me. His eyes were almost glowing in the dark. "Decisions should remind you of who you are, Lyra, not a piece of jewelry."

​He paused, pulled a black wallet from his jacket, and placed several hundred-dollar bills on his knee. "Here is 500 dollars. More than enough. Go get your necklace."

​I looked at the money. I didn't reach out. "What do you want in return?"

​"When you come in tomorrow morning, you won't use the parking lot; you'll enter through those iron turnstiles at the main entrance," Marcus said, his voice turning serious. "Your card will be updated in the system. You’re no longer on the 1st floor. You’ve been promoted to the 82nd floor. Your salary and authority have been increased. You will settle into your office there and do the new tasks assigned to you. In exchange for a necklace, will you prove your potential to me?"

​I looked up from the money and into his eyes. I didn't know what I had solved that made him pull me up this fast. But this looked like a ticket to salvation.

​"Accepted," I said, low but clear.

​Marcus handed me the money. "Good. Go get your necklace. The car will wait here for you, and then we will take you home. Be on the 82nd floor tomorrow morning."

​I got out of the car and ran back to the jeweler. The man was surprised to see the money but said nothing. When I put the necklace around my neck, the coldness of the metal against my skin spread a warmth to my heart. When I left the shop and got back into the car, Marcus wasn't even looking at me.

​"Let's go," he said to the driver.

​We didn't say a single word during the ride. But as the car entered my neighborhood, looking at that old apartment at the end of the street, I could feel Marcus watching me from the corner of his eye. I was no longer that helpless girl from the 1st floor. Tomorrow when the sun rose, I would pass through those iron turnstiles and step into the seamless world of the 82nd floor. I had won. For now.

​When I woke up the next morning, the only thing on my mind was the necklace around my neck. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, the piece was there. Last night wasn't a dream; I had made a deal with Marcus Black. I had no idea where my father was; we had been living in different places for a long time anyway. While he struggled with his own misery, he thought I was still carrying files on the lowest floor of Vance Corp. If he knew I had been promoted to the 82nd floor, he would tear Manhattan apart just to steal that necklace from me. That’s why I had to keep this information from him forever.

​I got ready and left the house. The hardness of the black card in my pocket reminded me of my new life. I took the bus and traveled the usual route, but this time, my entry into the building would be different.

​When I arrived in front of Vance Corp, I didn't head for the staff entrance, but directly toward the massive turnstiles at the main gate. The security guard looked like he was about to stop me based on my appearance, but the moment I scanned the black card at the panel, the iron arms opened silently. A green light flashed on the panel; I was now part of the system.

​I got into the elevator. When I scanned the card, the elevator launched me directly to the 82nd floor. When the doors opened, there was no trace of the dusty and noisy air of the 1st floor. This was a completely different world.

​"Miss Thorne, this way," a voice said.

​As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, a woman named Clara met me. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and she looked extremely professional. She led me to a room at the end of the corridor.

​"This is your office," Clara said, opening the door. The room had a large desk, a new computer, and a massive view of Manhattan. "Your belongings were moved here last night. Whatever was at your old desk is now here."

​I looked at the box on the desk. A few of my things from my 1st-floor desk were there. Marcus Black hadn't missed a single detail.

​"Also," Clara said, pointing to a young man with glasses waiting to the side. "This is your assistant, Toby. He will handle data entry and reporting. Your job will be strictly strategic analysis and special files sent to you by Mr. Black. You won't interact with anyone; you will only report directly to Mr. Black."

​Toby gave a slight bow. "Nice to meet you, Miss Thorne. I've left the task list on your desk."

​I was shocked, but I didn't show it. The girl who was carrying coffee until yesterday now had an assistant. Marcus hadn't just promoted me; he had imprisoned me on this floor, but this imprisonment was much better than the 1st floor.

​"Your salary and authorizations have been updated," Clara said as she was leaving. "Mr. Black does not accept mistakes. Work hard."

​After they left, I sat in the chair. My father probably still thought I was sweeping floors. But I was on the 82nd floor, and I opened the first file in front of me. I didn't know exactly what Marcus wanted from me, but I was going to prove to him that I deserved much more than that necklace.

​When I opened the cover of the file on the desk, the data I encountered was nothing like those simple inventory records on the 1st floor. This showed a massive loophole in Vance Corp’s logistics network, a multibillion-dollar data discrepancy. Marcus’s look from this morning was starting to make sense now. I hadn't just fixed Emma’s mistakes; I had accidentally brought to light a leak the company hadn't noticed for years. And Marcus had imprisoned me here, on the 82nd floor, to turn this discovery to his advantage before anyone else heard about it.

​"Miss Thorne?"

​I looked up from the file at the sound of Toby’s voice. He was waiting at the threshold with a slim tablet in his hand. "Mr. Black requested to see the first part of the analysis before lunch. Also, your new bank card and company phone are here."

​Toby approached my desk and left the tablet and a stylish, black box. My fingertips tingled as I touched the box. In one night, my life had moved from the backstreets of Queens to the summit of Manhattan. "Thank you, Toby," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm about to finish the first part of the file. You can relay that to Mr. Black."

​When Toby left the room, I took a deep breath. I looked at Manhattan through the glass walls of the room. The people below looked like ants. I thought of where my father was for a moment. Perhaps he was passed out in a cheap boarding house on the other side of the city right now. The distance between us was no longer measured just in miles; there was a massive class difference between us, an unbridgeable chasm. He thought I was still sweeping floors, calculating bus fare on the way home. If he knew the truth, he would come here and try to sell this desk, this computer, and even me. To him, everything was just an amount of money.

​While I was lost among the numbers on the computer screen, I was also thinking about Marcus Black. That man’s height, his gaze, and that ice-cold authority... Had he brought me here just for my talent, or to keep me under control? The red light that flashed when I scanned the black card in the elevator was actually a warning. The 82nd floor wasn't a reward; it was a cage walled with glass.

​In the afternoon, Clara came back to my office. This time she had a thicker folder in her hand. "Mr. Black wants you to prepare for the event tonight," she said, placing the folder on the desk. "Part of your job description is to be by his side. Your clothes are ready in the lounge next door."

​"An event?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise. "I thought I was just doing analysis."

​Clara smiled slightly, but the smile wasn't sincere at all. "Those who work with Mr. Black must adapt to his every step, Lyra. You need to be there as one of the new faces of the company. I don't think you have the right to object."

​The door closed behind Clara as she left. When I went into the lounge, I saw that black, silk dress hanging there. The dress looked so expensive that I was afraid to even touch it. It was certain that it cost more than a year of my father's drinking expenses. The moment I put on this dress, Lyra Thorne would die completely, and that new character created by Marcus Black would take her place.

​I straightened my necklace. That piece of metal, a memory from my mother, was the only real thing within this fake wealth I was wearing. The chance Marcus gave me was actually an offer to sell my soul to him. And I had already accepted this offer to avoid going back to those muddy streets of Queens.

​As 7:00 PM approached, darkness had fallen over the city through the office windows. The lights of Manhattan were sparkling like jewels. I was ready, looking at myself in the mirror in that silk dress. The girl staring back was not the girl whose stomach was aching from hunger until yesterday. But that hunger in her eyes was still there; only its direction had changed. I didn't just want to survive anymore; I wanted to taste this summit now.

​There was a knock at my door. When Marcus Black entered, the air in the room instantly grew heavy. He was in a flawless tuxedo. He scanned me from head to toe; it was hard to tell if his gaze was one of approval or just an inspection.

​"If you're ready, let's go, Lyra," he said, his voice distant yet impressive as always. "Tonight, you are there not just as an assistant, but as the partner to my greatest secret. Don't talk unnecessarily to anyone, just watch me."

​When we got into the elevator, this time we were descending into the glittering night of the city. As Marcus stood beside me, that famous height difference made itself felt again. I thought to myself, "Even standing next to this man is a form of torture." But I had to endure this torture. The doors of the 82nd floor had opened once; the way back had long since closed.

​When we left the building, we got into the black, luxury limousine waiting for us. As the city lights flowed past the window, I thought of my father’s dilapidated house far away. While he rotted there, I was drowning in this luxury. Marcus was silently looking at notes on his phone. When the limousine pulled up in front of one of Manhattan’s most expensive restaurants, flashes began to go off.

​When Marcus opened the door and took my hand, the coldness of his skin merged with the coldness of my necklace. "Smile, Lyra," he whispered in my ear. "Everyone is curious about who you are. Give them what they want, but never the truth."

​That night, I was stepping onto the stage for the first time in the glittering world of Vance Corp. In the shadow of Marcus Black, but fighting my own battle. The promise I made for that 800-dollar necklace had dragged me to places I could never have imagined. Lyra Thorne was gone; now there was only the mysterious woman of the 82nd floor, created by Marcus Black. And no one knew yet who would win at the end of this game.