Chapter Two

1250 Words
Everything about this building screams power. Not the loud, flashy kind, but the kind you feel in your bones. The kind that hums beneath your feet and sits behind tinted glass, silent and watching. The elevator doors opened to the thirty-second floor of Grey Groups, and I stepped into the mouth of the beast. This wasn’t just a corporate office. It was a kingdom. One Liam ruled with steel and silence. My heels tapped softly on the polished floor, but the sound felt like a betrayal. I wasn’t here to be noticed. I was here to find the truth. Why does Maverick Grey hate me so much? Why did he desperately want me far from Liam? Deep down I refuse to believe the car crash was some random accident. It was then I noticed there was another desk on this floor. Couldn’t tell if it was a receptionist or his secretary since this floor is for just Liam. The receptionist, a poised woman with arched brows and a voice sharp enough to cut glass looked up from her monitor. “You must be the new assistant.” I nodded. “Anita marshals.” A name I’d practiced saying a thousand times. Elsie Monroe had been buried the day I walked out of our home without looking back. The woman stood. “I’m Maya. Mr. Grey’s secretary. Follow me, and keep up. He hates waiting.” Walking past me, Her heels clicked against the marble as she led me past a series of glass-walled offices. I tried not to look like I was memorizing everything. the layout, the people, the subtle tension in the air, but I was. Every detail mattered. She stopped in front of a sleek cubicle with a glass view of Liam’s office, an enormous room encased in frosted glass. “This is you,” she said. “You handle his schedule, emails, phone calls, and everything else he doesn’t want to be bothered with. Keep your head down. Speak when spoken to. And if you last a week, I’ll be surprised.” “Thanks for the warm welcome,” I muttered my voice laced with sarcasm. Maya didn’t even blink. “Mr. Grey is expecting you. Don’t take it personally if he forgets your name. He forgets most people.” My stomach turned. That was the point, wasn’t it? “Most importantly his coffee at 8:30, anything later and he is grumpy.” Her cleavage is full on display with the first two buttons of her blouse undone. She disappeared before I could say another word, and I turned toward the glass doors of Liam’s office. My heart thundered. I wasn’t ready, not for his voice, not for his eyes. Not for seeing the man I’d once loved across a desk like I was nothing. I took a breath, smoothed my blouse, and knocked. “Come in.” Even his voice sounded different now colder. Sharper. No longer the soft voice I had grown to love. I took everything in like it was the first time I had seen him in years. I stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind me. He didn’t look up. His eyes were on his laptop, brows furrowed in focus. A charcoal suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders. His hair was slightly ruffled, like he’d run his hands through it during some meeting, and the stubble on his jaw was just a little too precise to be accidental. He hadn’t changed at all. And yet everything had. “Your name?” he asked without glancing at me. “Anita marshals.” He looked up then—briefly. His gaze brushed over me, and my lungs forgot how to work. For a moment, I swore something flickered behind his eyes. A hesitation. But it passed. “First day?” he asked, already returning to his screen. ‘I just had my interview yesterday’ I wanted to scream “Yes,” I answered softly “Maya should have given you all the details. I don’t do training. Figure them out or find the door.” I nodded. “Understood.” He waved a hand toward the desk in the far corner of his office. “Sit. Start by organizing these. Emails, files, whatever’s on that tablet. Everything marked urgent gets forwarded. Anything that will waste my time gets deleted.” I walked to the desk, hands trembling slightly. The tablet was already blinking, full of flagged emails and meeting requests. The man had a schedule that could make time itself sweat. I sat down and got to work. The hours blurred. I didn’t speak unless spoken to. I didn’t look at him unless I had to. I answered emails, redirected calls, arranged three meetings, and canceled two others. Maya popped in once with coffee and dropped it for Liam, barely glancing at me. Liam never once used my name. He never asked where I was from, why I was here, or what I wanted. And that was fine. That was safer. Still, I found myself stealing glances at him, watching the way he tapped his pen against the desk when deep in thought, or the way he stared at the skyline like it had betrayed him. There were no wedding photos. No framed memories. No evidence of the man I once loved. It was like I’d never existed. At exactly 2:32 PM, his voice cut through the silence. “Did you reschedule the Deveraux call?” “Yes,” I said without looking up. “Moved it to Friday, as per the client’s assistant. I also flagged the investor deck for the Copenhagen meeting. You’ll want to review the figures on page six.” There was a pause. Then. “Efficient.” It wasn’t a compliment. Just an observation. But still my heart skipped. Probably because I haven’t eaten all day, I was very hungry. By 5:30 PM, Lian stood abruptly and grabbed his coat from the wall hook. “I have a dinner meeting at seven,” he said. “Send the investor brief to my email and make sure the driver is on standby by six. I don’t like delays.” “Already done.” He paused at the door, then turned back. “You’re still here at six. Maya will drop a few files. I want them sorted by priority level by tomorrow.” “Of course.” “Sir” I called out with my head down, “can I get dinner, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He stared at me for a few seconds and left without another word. As the door closed behind him, I let out the breath I’d been holding. The office felt heavier without him. His presence left behind a tension that clung to everything. I sat down, pulled out the files Maya had dropped, and started organizing. When I was done, I tried sorting out his emails. And that’s when I saw it. An internal memo, unsigned and unfiltered. Meant to be private, probably sent to the wrong place. The subject line was simple: Temporary Hire: Anita marshals, background pending. The body of the email was short, but chilling: “Unconfirmed employment history. Inconsistencies flagged. Monitoring recommended. Notify MG if presence extends past 30 days.” My blood ran cold. They were watching me already. I looked up from the screen, pulse racing just in time to see Maya standing outside the glass wall. And she was staring right at me.
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