Secret Heir

Selene stepped off the elevator on the forty-third floor, heart still racing from the door clicking shut behind her yesterday. Mr. Cole's words echoed: "We have unfinished business."  

Business. Right. That's all it was.

Adam led her to a sleek desk outside the main office. "Access to emails, calendar, travel. No direct contact unless he requests it."  

"So I work for a ghost?"  

"Discretion is non-negotiable." Adam's eyes narrowed. "Problem?"  

She smiled tightly. "None at all."

The office was too quiet. Glass walls, half-closed blinds, leather, and ambition in the air. She settled in, fingers flying over the keyboard. The pay was insane. The catch would come.

Austin watched from behind through his one-way glass office. She didn't fidget, didn't glance around for approval. Just worked. She was calm and competent.  

He rubbed the fading bruise on his temple. Her voice from the rain replayed: "Are you insane?"  

No one spoke to him like that anymore.  

He'd had her found. Quietly. Her profile: no family, denied scholarships, desperate to travel. That was loneliness, which he recognized too well.  

It unsettled him more than the near-death experience.

The first days blurred. She fixed schedules and anticipated needs. Colleagues nodded-some smiled. One whispered, "New girl's already teacher's pet."  

She ignored it.

Then the file delivery.  

She knocked.  

"Come in."  

The voice was calm. Familiar.  

She stepped inside. 

He turned from the window, the bandage was gone now, and his suit was sharp. 

Her breath hitched.  

The man from the rain. The Blood. Recklessness.  

It was Him.

Austin's gaze locked.  

"You're early," he said smoothly.  

"I-sorry. The file." She thrust it forward.  

Up close, he was even more striking. Dangerous in control.  

"You saved my life that night." Casual. Like weather talk.  

Her pulse spiked. "You... remembered?"  

"I don't forget faces." Especially not hers.  

She crossed her arms. "I didn't do it for thanks."  

"I know."  

The air thickened.  

He stepped closer. "Stay. We need to discuss your role."  

Business, she told herself. Just business.

After that, he requested her frequently. Coffee runs. "Stay in my office-keep me company." Dry humor slipped in. He remembered her no-sugar preference. Sent her home early when she looked exhausted. He paid her salary advancement.

She tried not to feel it.  

But it failed.

One afternoon, hallway whispers:  

"Engagement's locked. Diana Rowe's father pushed hard."  

"Blake's not happy, but business is business."  

Selene froze. Diana?  

Her stomach twisted.  

She watched him more closely after that.  

Austin noticed.  

He wanted to tell her.  

But he couldn't.  

If she knew the truth-his name, his family, the past-she'd run.  

...So he stayed silent.  

But silence had limits.

That evening, she lingered in the break room, pouring coffee she didn't want, when a colleague-Lila, that's always too loud-stepped in close.  

"Sleeping your way to the top already?" Lila's smile didn't reach her eyes.  

Selene set the pot down carefully. Her hand didn't shake. Not yet. "Jealousy doesn't suit you."  

Lila laughed, low and mean. "Careful, sweetheart. Diana doesn't share her toys."  

The name landed like a slap. Selene met her gaze, steady. "Good thing I'm not anyone's toy."  

She walked out, pulse hammering in her ears.  

She didn't know Diana was already watching-through cameras, whispers, a quiet network tightening like a noose.