Shadows In The Office
1487 Words
Chapter 5 – Shadows in the Office
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and Adrian Valen stepped into the glass-walled corridor of Valen Group, his family’s company.
The entire floor seemed to stiffen at his arrival.
Secretaries straightened in their chairs.
Assistants lowered their voices.
Even the sound of typing slowed for a heartbeat.
He was used to it.
Everywhere he went, silence followed.
Adrian’s tall frame and sharp presence made him impossible to ignore. His neatly pressed suit, the faint scent of cologne, the cold steel in his gaze—it all combined into an aura that commanded attention… and fear.
He didn’t mean to intimidate anyone.
But he’d learned long ago that authority kept chaos away.
Still, he could feel their eyes on him as he passed by. A whisper started somewhere behind him, carried in hushed tones.
“Mr. Valen’s in early again.”
“He never sleeps, does he?”
“I heard he fired someone last week just for misplacing a file.”
Adrian heard them, of course. He always did.
He just pretended not to.
Inside his office—the corner suite overlooking the city—everything was perfectly arranged. Chrome edges. Dark wood. Not a single item out of place.
He set his briefcase down, loosened his tie slightly, and sank into his chair.
The morning sun reflected off the skyscrapers, spilling light across his desk. For a moment, he closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying to quiet the restless noise in his head.
But peace never lasted long.
A soft knock broke through.
“Sir?” his assistant, Melissa, peeked in, clutching a file. Her tone carried both respect and anxiety. “There’s an issue with the financial report. The numbers for last quarter don’t match the projections.”
Adrian opened his eyes sharply. “How big of an issue?”
“Only a small discrepancy, sir. Likely a formatting error.”
He leaned forward, expression hardening. “Likely? Or confirmed?”
Melissa froze, her voice trembling slightly. “We’re still checking, sir.”
Adrian tapped his pen on the table—a soft, rhythmic sound that somehow filled the room with tension.
“Find out,” he said finally. “I want it corrected before the board meeting.”
“Yes, sir,” she said quickly, bowing her head as she backed out.
The door closed.
Silence again.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
It wasn’t about the numbers. Not really.
He just couldn’t stand imperfection. Not in his work, not in his people… and definitely not in himself.
Down the hall, the whispers started again.
“He’s so harsh,” one employee murmured over the printer. “I thought I was going to faint when he looked at me this morning.”
“Same,” another whispered. “He’s scary, but… I mean, he’s also ridiculously good-looking. It’s unfair.”
“Good looks won’t help if no one can stand him. I heard he’s never dated anyone seriously.”
“Can you blame them? He’s like ice. Even if he smiled, it would probably make people nervous.”
A nervous giggle followed. “Maybe that’s why he’s always alone.”
Unseen by them, Adrian stood at the end of the corridor for a brief moment, listening. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.
But the words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
Hours passed. Meetings came and went. Numbers, presentations, decisions—it all blurred together in a gray fog of professionalism.
But through it all, one image refused to leave his mind.
Her.
Ava.
The way she’d smiled that morning in the café, hands stained faintly with coffee grounds. The way she’d looked up at him with those clear, questioning eyes that seemed to see past everything he hid.
He’d tried to bury the thought, to focus on work. But it kept slipping through, no matter how many reports he signed or calls he answered.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He wasn’t supposed to feel.
By late afternoon, the building was quieter.
Most of his employees had gone for lunch or home early. Adrian sat alone in his office, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up.
He stared out at the skyline—tall, endless, lonely.
A file lay open on his desk, but he wasn’t reading it. His mind had drifted again.
The numbers faded. The city outside dimmed.
And suddenly—
He was somewhere else.
A courtyard.
Stone pillars.
A woman in white standing beneath an archway.
Ava.
But not this Ava—the one in his world now. This one wore ancient clothes, her hair braided with gold threads. She looked at him with heartbreak and fury in her eyes.
“Why did you do it, Adrian?” she whispered.
He reached for her, but his hand passed through air.
“I had no choice,” he said again—words that felt carved into his soul.
Her face twisted with pain. “You always say that. But your choices keep breaking us.”
He tried to move, to speak—but the vision darkened. Fire. Screams. The taste of ash. And her fading voice—
“Remember me… even if it hurts.”
Adrian gasped, jerking upright.
The room was spinning. His heart pounded wildly. Sweat clung to his forehead.
He looked around—his office was the same, silent and still. The sunlight had faded into dusk.
But his hands trembled.
“What’s happening to me?” he whispered.
He pressed a hand to his chest. The ache there was sharp, unfamiliar, almost unbearable.
For years, he’d prided himself on control—over his company, over his emotions, over everything. But lately… lately, that control was slipping.
And all because of her.
When Melissa returned a few minutes later, holding another file, she hesitated at the door.
“Sir? Are you all right?”
Adrian blinked, straightened his posture, and forced his usual calm back into place. “I’m fine.”
She studied him for a second longer, clearly unconvinced. Then she nodded quietly and left.
The door clicked shut again.
Adrian leaned back in his chair and exhaled shakily.
He wasn’t fine.
He hadn’t been fine for a long time.
Ever since Ava entered his life again—no, collided into it—something had shifted. The walls he’d built around himself for years were starting to c***k.
He hated it.
He feared it.
And yet… a part of him didn’t want to stop it.
He found himself thinking about her laugh, her stubbornness, the way she refused to cower around him like everyone else did.
Maybe that was what drew him to her.
She didn’t fear him.
Everyone else did.
The board feared his temper.
The employees feared his criticism.
Even his friends—what few remained—kept their distance.
But Ava looked at him as if he were human.
And that terrified him more than anything.
Outside his office, two junior staff members lingered by the elevator, whispering again.
“I heard Mr. Valen lost it earlier over a report error,” one said.
“Yeah, but that’s normal. The man’s terrifying. I’d rather lose my job than face him.”
“Still… you’d think someone like him would have everything—money, looks, power. But have you noticed? He’s always alone. Even at company parties.”
The other shrugged. “Maybe that’s the price of being feared. No one dares to get close.”
They didn’t realize Adrian was still in his office, staring through the half-closed blinds.
Their words echoed faintly.
Always alone.
Maybe that was true.
He’d built a life of glass walls and empty halls. A fortress of success, but no warmth inside.
Until her.
Until Ava started haunting his days and dreams alike.
The clock ticked toward midnight. The office was long deserted.
Adrian sat still, eyes fixed on the faint reflection of himself in the window.
For a long while, he said nothing. Then, almost in a whisper, he spoke to the silence.
“She doesn’t even know who I am… who I was.”
The city lights shimmered below, distant and cold.
He closed his eyes.
And again, her voice came back—soft, echoing through time.
“Remember me… even if it hurts.”
He clenched his fists. “I do.”
He wasn’t sure if it was madness, memory, or punishment. But he knew one thing:
Ava was no longer just a coincidence.
She was his reckoning.
And as the night deepened, the man everyone feared—the one too proud, too guarded, too distant for love—finally allowed himself to whisper her name.
“Ava…”
The sound lingered in the dark.
And for the first time in years, Adrian Valen felt something warm in his chest—
Not peace. Not joy.
But hope.
- Writer
