Cynthia wasn't planning to walk past Alexander's floor.
She really wasn't.
She was just… taking the long way to the elevator. For exercise. Heart health. Emotional stability.
At least that's what she told herself.
But as soon as she stepped onto the familiar floor, she froze.
Her old desk — her desk — wasn't empty.
A woman was sitting there. Tall, elegant, polished. Typing with the kind of confidence that stabbed Cynthia in the stomach.
Cynthia blinked.
Then blinked again.
Julienne, walking beside her, whispered loudly,
"Uhm… who Barbie-coded the admin desk?"
Cynthia elbowed her lightly. "Stop."
"No, you stop. Because that woman is sitting in your chair like she pays rent."
Cynthia forced her legs to move closer, even though her heartbeat was so loud she could barely hear anything else.
The new assistant noticed them immediately.
She stood and smiled with rehearsed professionalism.
"Good morning. How can I help you?"
Cynthia's throat tightened. "I—uh… just needed to drop off a form."
Julienne mouthed behind her: Liar.
Lydia's smile grew a little too sharp. "Mr. Voss isn't accepting unscheduled visits today."
Ah.
So she knew exactly who Cynthia was.
And she was enjoying this.
Cynthia swallowed. "I wasn't looking for him. I just—lydia tilted her head, eyes sliding over Cynthia's simple clothes and messy ponytail.
"Oh. You're the former assistant."
Cynthia stiffened.
Julienne's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"
Lydia continued calmly, "Mr. Voss informed me that you were reassigned. I'm P.A now
Cynthia felt something inside her drop.
Not jealousy.
Not anger.
Just… emptiness.
"Oh," she said softly. "I see."
Lydia gave a tight, victorious smile. "If you need help learning your new department, I can send you some orientation documents."
Julienne stepped forward, eyes blazing. "No need. She trained half the interns in this building. She's good."
Lydi
a blinked, slightly thrown off.
Cynthia tugged Julienne's sleeve gently. "Let's go."
They started walking toward the elevator. Cynthia kept her eyes down, but she couldn't stop noticing every tiny change:
Her favorite plant on the desk was gone.
Her sticky notes removed.
Her mug — the one Alexander bought "because your old cup looked like it survived a war" — nowhere in sight.
Everything wiped clean.
Like she had never been there.
Her chest tightened painfully.
When the elevator doors closed, Julienne turned to her slowly.
"Cynthia… are you okay?"
Cynthia nodded, but tears stung her eyes. "It's fine"
"That's not what hurt you," Julienne said quietly. "It's how… easy it looked for him."
Cynthia said nothing.
Because it was true.
But deep inside, under the hurt, she felt another emotion rising:
Determination.
Something wasn't right.
Alexander wasn't acting like someone who simply wanted her gone.
And that woman? She felt wrong. Like she wasn't just an assistant.
Cynthia wiped her eyes and breathed deeply.
"I'm not giving up," she whispered. "Not until I understand what's happening."
Julienne nodded fiercely. "Good. Because something about that new assistant screams… problem."
Cynthia didn't disagree.
Not at all.