Chapter 2
1045 Words
Aurelius Group Tower stood above the city like it belonged to another world entirely.
Glass. Steel. Power.
The building caught the morning sunlight so sharply it almost hurt to look at. From a distance, it didn’t feel like somewhere people worked. It felt too important, too imposing to approach casually.
I slowed slightly as I reached the entrance, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder.
Forty-five minutes late.
Again.
At this point, I was starting to think my dreams had a personal vendetta against my work schedule.
Every morning, it was the same thing.
The strange bedroom.
The man.
The kisses that felt too real.
Then waking up late and ruining my entire day before it even started.
Maybe I needed therapy.
Or a boyfriend.
Preferably both, at this point.
Because normal women with active dating lives did not spend their nights dreaming about mysterious men in ancient-looking robes.
That sounded medically reasonable to me.
Mr. Lawson was definitely going to kill me this time.
The lobby doors slid open the moment I stepped inside.
Cold air wrapped around me instantly, sharp enough to pull me fully into reality.
Everything about Aurelius Group felt deliberate. Marble floors so polished they reflected movement. Glass walls that made the entire building feel open and yet completely controlled. Employees moving with quiet precision, as though even hesitation wasn’t allowed here.
It was the kind of place where no one ever looked lost.
Meanwhile, I was still recovering from nearly being flattened by a bus forty-five minutes ago.
“Late again, Elena?”
I turned toward reception and let out a soft groan.
Nina didn’t bother looking up from her screen, but the faint smirk on her face gave her away.
“You say that every day like it’s a surprise.”
“I say it every day so you’ll eventually improve,” she shot back.
Her smirk deepened. “Forty-five minutes this time. That’s impressive commitment to chaos.”
I sighed. “Is Mr. Lawson looking for me?”
“He was. Asked for you earlier. Said it wasn’t urgent… but you know how that goes.”
That made my stomach tighten slightly.
Nothing at Aurelius Group was ever “not urgent” when it came through Mr. Lawson.
“Perfect,” I muttered.
Nina finally looked up at me, sympathy flickering across her expression.
“Good luck surviving today.”
“I’ll need more than luck.”
I headed past reception toward the administrative section.
The familiar rhythm of the office greeted me—keyboards clicking, phones ringing in short bursts, printers humming quietly in the background. It almost felt normal. Almost.
My desk sat in the middle row of the open office floor, surrounded by motion that never quite stopped.
“Forty-five minutes,” Mark said the moment I dropped my bag.
I didn’t even look at him. “Don’t start.”
“That’s almost impressive,” he added, grinning like he lived for my suffering.
“You’re one comment away from HR,” I replied.
“HR loves me,” he said.
“They tolerate you because you print fast,” Jessica added without looking up from her monitor.
Jessica sat opposite me—sharp, efficient, and permanently unimpressed by everyone’s existence. If Aurelius Group was a machine, she was one of its most reliable components.
Across from her, Daniel spun slightly in his chair, one earbud still in.
“Mr. Lawson was in a mood this morning,” he said casually. “Not yelling. Just… silent disappointment. Honestly worse.”
“That’s his default setting,” I muttered, switching on my computer.
Jessica finally glanced at me. “You’ve got a stack of files. Some flagged for executive review.”
Of course they were.
I exhaled slowly and began sorting them.
Paper. Screens. Deadlines. Emails.
Everything moved in a rhythm I was used to, even if I didn’t enjoy it.
Around me, the office settled into its steady flow—typing, printing, the occasional laugh quickly swallowed by focus again.
But the feeling from earlier didn’t leave.
That small, unsettled pressure in my chest.
Like something was waiting just beyond the edge of my attention.
I ignored it.
I had work to do.
By mid-afternoon, the energy in the office had shifted. The earlier noise had thinned into a quieter, more concentrated focus. Even conversations felt shorter now, as though everyone was conserving words for later.
I was halfway through a report when a shadow fell across my desk.
“Elena.”
I looked up.
Sandra.
She didn’t look like she was here to joke this time.
“Mr. Lawson needs a file delivered to the boardroom,” she said. “Now.”
My stomach tightened slightly.
Of course.
I glanced at the folder on my desk. Thick. Clearly important. Marked “Executive Review.”
“Why me?” I asked.
Sandra gave a small shrug. “Because he asked for you specifically.”
That didn’t help my nerves.
Mark let out a low whistle. “That’s never a good sign.”
Jessica didn’t look up. “Try not to get fired.”
Daniel raised a hand lazily in farewell. “If you disappear, I’m calling dibs on your desk.”
I grabbed the file.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I said.
Then I stood.
The elevator ride upstairs felt different this time.
Heavier.
Like the building itself had shifted its attention upward with me.
Floors passed in quiet succession—each one more silent than the last. The deeper into the executive levels I went, the less I heard of the world below.
When the doors opened, the executive floor greeted me with its usual stillness.
Clean lines. Glass reflections. Controlled silence.
No rushed footsteps. No casual conversation. Just movement that felt intentional even when it wasn’t visible.
I walked past it all toward the boardroom.
The double doors stood ahead—tall, sealed, waiting.
Important enough that even approaching them felt like a decision.
I adjusted my grip on the file.
And then—
That strange feeling from earlier returned.
Sharper this time.
Like something inside me had paused without asking permission.
I ignored it.
I exhaled once, fixed the sleeve of my blouse, and stepped into the boardroom.
- Writer
