(Elara POV)
I don't like being cornered.
Not physically — emotionally.
It's the feeling that gets me. That moment when someone is too close and I don't know how to move without making things worse.
I was sorting contracts when I felt it.
Someone standing beside my desk.
"You're always here," Mark said.
I looked up too fast. My heart jumped. "Oh—yes. I'm just finishing some files."
He smiled like he'd been waiting for that reaction.
"You should go home sometimes," he added. "You're going to wear yourself out."
"I'm okay," I said quickly.
He leaned a little closer, resting his hand on the edge of my desk.
"Coffee wouldn't hurt," he said. "Five minutes."
My fingers tightened around the paper I was holding. "I—I can't. I still have work."
He laughed softly. "You're very serious, you know that?"
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.
"Elara."
The voice behind him was calm. Flat.
Mark straightened so fast it startled me.
Alexander Hale stood a few steps away, phone in his hand, expression unreadable.
"This floor isn't for socializing," Mr. Hale said. "We're here to work."
Mark flushed. "Of course. I was just—"
"Then get back to it," Mr. Hale said.
Mark nodded and left.
Mr. Hale looked at me.
"If someone's interrupting your work," he said, "tell them you're busy."
"I didn't want to cause a problem," I said.
"This isn't a place for problems," he replied. "It's a place for results."
He walked away.
Then I heard heels.
"Elara Moore."
Vivienne Clarke stood there like she belonged everywhere I didn't.
"You were brave in the meeting," she said.
"I was asked," I replied softly.
She smiled wider. "Assistants sometimes forget why they're here."
My face felt hot. "I know."
"Good," she said sweetly. "Because ambition can be misunderstood."
She leaned closer.
"Men like Alex appreciate loyalty."
She walked away smiling.
I sat there long after, shaken.
I knew then.
This was only the beginning.