The gentle hum of the office productivity was something Azaria had grown to appreciate a lot in the years she had worked at AldrithCorp. Through the thick glass walls of the Director of Operations office, the faint noises of the workplace carried on as usual. Phones rang, keyboards clicked, and printers whirred. It was the sound of a properly functioning company.
Azaria leaned back slightly in the leather chair that had not officially been hers. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pausing just long enough for her to draw in a breath before continuing her work. The screen in front of her reflected on her glasses. It displayed a detailed operations report, one of many she had completed over the past eleven months.
Eleven months.
She almost scoffed at the thought.
For eleven months, she had been doing the job of Director of Operations. It wasn't just her assisting or "helping out." She had come to be in charge if it completely. And all without the title, without the salary and the recognition.
Her eyes flicked briefly to the polished nameplate that still sat on the desk.
Arthur Callaghan.
She hadn't bothered to remove it.
Maybe she should have. Maybe she should have replaced it with her own name weeks ago, months even. Everyone in the company already knew who was actually running things. The department heads came to her. The staff reported to her. The executives relied on her.
Callaghan had barely existed in the role.
Even before everything fell apart, Azaria had been the one keeping operations from collapsing under his incompetence. She had handled the logistics, the crisis management, the endless stream of decisions he was either too lazy or too incapable to make. It had been exhausting, yes, but it had also been necessary.
Because if she didn't do it, no one would.
And then came the inevitable.
He had been caught.
Embezzlement.
The word alone had sent ripples through the company, though for Azaria, it had simply been confirmation of what she had long suspected. Callaghan had always been careless, sloppy and too comfortable in a position he never earned.
When the investigation concluded, the outcome had been swift and decisive. He was fired. Publicly disgraced. Blacklisted to the point where no reputable company would ever touch him again.
And now, he was in prison.
Azaria had felt no sympathy, only relief, because finally, finally, the position would be open and it was supposed to be hers.
Her gaze returned to the screen, her expression sharpening. She had not wasted the opportunity. If anything, she had doubled down, ensuring that every report, every decision, every miniscule outcome spoke for itself. Her work was undeniable.
Her dedication was undeniable.
Her right to that position.
Undeniable.
A faint smile touched her lips as she continued typing, the steady taping of her fingers against the keyboard echoing in the room. The promotion hadn't been officially announced yet, but it was only a matter of time. There was no logical reason, no justifiable reason, for it to go to anyone else.
She had earned it.
Earned every long night.
Earnws every skipped break.
Earned every ounce of effort she had poured into a role that had never been properly hers.
The door burst open, suddenly.
The sound shattered the calm of the office, the sharp crack of it hitting the wall echoing louder than it should have.
Azaria jumped slightly, her fingers stilled mid-motion, her brows knitting together in immediate irritation as her head snapped toward the source of the disruption.
Rowan stood in the doorway, slightly breathless, his usually composed appearance thrown into disarray.
For a second, Azaria just stared at him.
Then her confusion hardened into annoyance.
"Rowan, what is the meaning of–" she began, but couldn't finish her sentence as she watched him hurry in.
Rowan hurried inside, pushing the door closed behind him with less force this time, though the urgency in his movements remained. His eyes were locked onto hers, something tense, almost disbelieving, flickered within them.
Azaria straightened in her chair, irritation deepening.
She and Rowan had known each other for years. They had started as interns in this very company, navigating the same chaotic environment, learning the same systems, enduring the same pressures. Somewhere along the way, they had become inseparable.
He knew her.
Which meant he knew better than to storm into her office like this without a very good reason.
"What?" she pressed. "Rowan."
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling once as if trying to steady himself.
"Have you seen it yet?" he asked.
Azaria blinked.
"Seen what?"
His expression shifted, something incredulous crossing his face.
"The announcement," he said. "The new Director of Operations."
The words landed, but they didn't quite settle in her head.
Azaria frowned slightly, her irritation now laced with confusion.
"What announcement?" she asked, even as a small flicker of unease began to stir in her chest. She hadn't been informed of anything.
Rowan stared at her for half a second longer, then gestured impatiently toward her desk.
"It's on the platform," he said. "They just posted it."
Something cold slipped into Azaria's veins.
Without another word, she turned back to her computer. Her fingers moved quickly now, navigating away from her report and opening the internal work platform the company used for official communications. The page loaded slower than she wanted it to.
For a brief moment, she hoped it wasn't what her mind was telling her. She wanted to keep an open mind, but the fact that she wasn't called in before the announcement left something heavy seating in her stomach.
Then she saw it.
A bold header stretched across the top of the announcement.
Appointment of Director of Operations
Her pulse ticked up.
Of course.
This was it.
Finally.
Her eyes scanned the text, skipping over the formalities, the corporate phrasing, the unnecessary filler. She went straight for the name.
And then–
She stopped.
Her entire body went still and cold.
The world around her seemed to mute, the faint office noises beyond the glass fading into nothing as her gaze locked onto a single line.
Celeste Aldrith.
For a second, her mind refused to process it. The name sat there, stark and unyielding, as if daring her to challenge it.
Celeste Aldrith.
No.
No, that wasn't… it shouldn't be…
Her eyes moved again, rereading it, slower this time. Carefully. She almost took of her glasses to make sure she was seeing well. As if the letters might rearrange themselves into something that made sense.
They didn't.
The name remained exactly the same.
Celeste Aldrith!
Celeste Aldrith!!
Celeste Aldrith!!!
They had given the promotion… her promotion… to an Aldrith.
A sharp, suffocating heat surged through her chest. Behind her, Rowan said something, but she didn't catch what. It didn't matter. The words blurred into the background, meaningless against the roaring anger that had taken over her thoughts.
An Aldrith.
Of all people.
Of all possible candidates.
They had chosen an Aldrith.
Azaria's hand tightened slowly against the edge of the desk, her fingers curling until her knuckles hurt.
This had to be a mistake.
It had to be.
There was no justification for this. No logical explanation. No scenario in which this decision made sense.
Who was Celeste Aldrith? Azaria had never heard the name within the company. Did they just drag someone else here because she happened to have the same name as the boss?
She had done the work.
She had carried the department.
She had proven herself, again and again and again.
And they–
Her jaw clenched, hard enough to ache.
They had completely overlooked her. Completely dismissed her. Completely replaced her.
Her gaze flicked back to the screen, the name burning itself into her vision.
Celeste Aldrith.
The unfairness of it hit her all at once, sharp and brutal.
An Aldrith didn't need to prove anything.
An Aldrith didn't need to spend months grinding through responsibilities that weren't theirs.
An Aldrith didn't need to earn a position like this.
They were simply given it.
Because of a name.
Because of power.
Because of influence.
Azaria pushed back her chair abruptly, the legs scraping harshly against the floor as she stood.
The sudden movement snapped the silence, but it did nothing to ease the storm building inside her.
Fury.
Pure, unfiltered fury.
It coursed through her veins, hot and relentless, swallowing the shock, the disbelief, the brief flicker of doubt that had tried to take root.
This didn't seem so much as a mistake anymore. It was blatant disrespect to her loyalty and hard work.
"How?" she demanded, though the word came out low, almost dangerous.
Rowan shrugged a little and scratched his head. "She's the CEO's cousin or other… at least that's what's going around."
Azaria let out a sharp breath, dragging her gaze away from the screen as she turned to face him fully. Her expression had hardened, every trace of earlier calm completely gone.
"How is that even possible?" she pressed, louder now.
Her voice carried an edge that could cut.
Because this wasn't just a missed opportunity. It was an insult.
A calculated dismissal of everything she had done.
She had been patient.
She had been professional.
She had played by their rules.
And this? This was what she got? This was her thank you?
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes blazing with rage as she glanced back at the screen one more time.
Celeste Aldrith.
The name felt like a challenge.
And Azaria Freeman did not take challenges lightly.
Not when they were handed to her like this and not when they tried to erase everything she had built.
Her hand curled into a fist at her side.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
Because if they thought she was just going to accept this, they didn't know her at all.