Chapter 5
Dragging my feet through the lobby, I could already feel the difference in today's air. It wasn't the kind of day where confidence spilled from my steps—more like one where I clung to the hope that coffee would work its magic. I managed a polite nod at the receptionist, then trudged to my desk to drop my bag with a sigh heavier than I intended.
I didn't waste time. Levi's coffee had become part of my morning ritual—a little anchor in the chaos. I brewed it just the way he liked, trying not to spill a drop as I made my way to his office.
The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open gently, my voice soft. "Your coffee, sir—"
Then I stopped.
My heart skipped a beat.
There, across the room, stood Levi—smiling. But not at me. No. He was with someone. A woman. Tall, elegant, leaning comfortably against his desk like she belonged there. And he...he looked so at ease, so familiar.
The cup in my hand suddenly felt too warm. Too heavy.
Something about the scene tugged at my gut. Was it jealousy? Or just the overwhelming feeling of not knowing where I stood anymore?
The warmth from the coffee cup had started seeping into my fingertips, but I didn't move. My body froze even as my mind ran a thousand marathons.
Levi looked up—finally noticing me. His expression shifted. It wasn't guilt. No. It was unreadable, like he'd thrown up a wall in the blink of an eye. The woman followed his gaze, turning to face me with a curious tilt of her head and a smirk that made my stomach flip.
"Oh," she said, eyeing me from head to toe like I was just another item on Levi's pristine desk. "Is this your new assistant?"
"Amelia," Levi said calmly, stepping toward me. "You're early."
Early? I blinked. Was that all he had to say?
"I brought your coffee," I replied, forcing my voice to sound even. My hand trembled slightly as I held it out.
He took it, our fingers brushing for a millisecond too long. His eyes lingered on mine—too long for someone who had company. But just as quickly, he turned away.
"This is Victoria. She's…an old friend."
Old friend. Right. The kind that wears a designer suit, leaves lipstick on your wine glass, and leans into your personal space like she owns the air you breathe.
I froze, my hand still on the cup. Of course he noticed me. Just my luck.
"Amelia?" Levi's voice rang out, calm as ever, though I could swear there was a flicker of tension behind it.
I didn't flinch. I took a slow breath, squared my shoulders, and walked the rest of the way into the office.
"I brought your coffee," I said, placing the cup gently on the desk — careful not to meet his eyes or glance at the woman still adjusting her skirt beside him.
There was a brief silence. Heavy, but I didn't let it weigh me down. I just stepped back, straightened up, and gave him a polite nod.
"If there's nothing else, I'll return to my desk."
He opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but I didn't wait. I turned and left, heels tapping lightly against the floor, the door clicking softly behind me.
Back at my desk, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. No thoughts. No emotion. Just work.
I had a job to do — and nothing, not even Levi Banks and his "morning surprise," was going to throw me off.
****
The rest of the morning moved in a blur of typing, scheduled emails, and calendar updates. I kept my head down and my expression neutral. I was fine. Perfectly fine.
Until just after noon.
A message pinged in from Levi.
"Meeting with Mr. Carrington moved to 1:30. Please prep the presentation slides. Also, bring them to my office in 10."
Short. Direct. Professional. Just how I liked it.
Still, my fingers hesitated on the keyboard for a second before I got to work. The last thing I needed was him thinking I was rattled. Or worse — bothered.
Ten minutes later, I stood in his doorway, folder in hand.
"Come in," he said, his voice quieter than usual. I stepped inside.
"Here are the updated slides," I said, keeping my eyes on the folder, not him.
But as I handed it over, his fingers brushed mine — not on purpose, I told myself — but it lingered just a half-second too long. When I finally looked up, he was already watching me.
"Amelia," he said, carefully, "about this morning…"
"No need," I cut in smoothly. "Your personal life is none of my business. My job is to keep things running, and that's exactly what I'm doing."
He studied me for a moment, something unreadable behind his eyes.
"You're good at this," he said softly. "Better than I expected."
I gave a tight smile. "That's the idea."
There was silence — thick, not uncomfortable, but... charged.
I turned to leave, but then his voice caught me again.
"By the way," he said casually, "the coffee this morning… you made it stronger."
"You looked like you needed it," I replied over my shoulder.
I didn't wait to see if he smiled. But I hoped he did.
The office after hours had a different kind of hum — no clacking keyboards, no ringing phones. Just the soft whir of the AC and the occasional creak of tired furniture.
I stretched my arms over my head and glanced at the time. 7:46 p.m.
Seriously?
I had completely lost track while prepping documents for Levi's next board meeting. Most people were probably home, face-deep in a glass of wine or reruns of cheesy sitcoms. Me? I was still here… because being behind made me feel even worse.
I packed up the last file and grabbed my tote, heels clicking softly on the floor as I made my way past Levi's office. The light was still on.
Of course.
I hesitated for just a second, then knocked gently on the doorframe. "You're still here?"
He looked up from his desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie a little loose, glasses slightly tilted — basically, corporate chaos. But make it... kind of hot?
"I could say the same for you," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "I thought I was the only one burning the midnight oil."
I offered a small smile. "Just wanted to make sure tomorrow goes smooth. Didn't want to give you a reason to fire me."
His brow lifted, amused. "Is that something you're worried about?"
"No," I said too quickly. "I mean... maybe a little."
He chuckled softly, then gestured to the second chair across from his desk. "Sit for a second?"
I paused — debated — then sat.
"You've been doing great," he said, watching me a little too closely. "More than great."
I shrugged. "Just doing my job."
"You could've left hours ago, Amelia."
"So could you."
A beat. Then he smiled, slower this time. "Touché."
I stood, suddenly needing air. "Well, I should go before the elevators stop working or something."
He followed me to the door. "Be careful going home."
I nodded, then turned — but just as I stepped out, he added, almost under his breath:
"Also… thanks for the coffee. You always get it right."
I didn't look back, but I know he saw the smile I tried to hide.
Chapter 6
Days had gone by like a breeze. Work had settled into a rhythm—coffee at 8:30, Levi's meetings by 10, office buzz tapering off by 4. It wasn't bad, actually. I was starting to like the structure. The adrenaline of the first few days had dulled into something steady... manageable.
It was 8:46PM when I looked up from my laptop and realized the office was pitch black, except for the pool of light from my desk lamp. Everyone had left hours ago. I groaned, stretched my back, and packed my things slowly, replaying the to-do list in my head.
Just as I was slipping on my coat, the door to the executive suite creaked open. My heart did a somersault.
It was Levi.
He looked tired but still painfully sharp—dark sweater sleeves pushed to his elbows, keys in hand, and that usual unreadable look on his face.
"You're still here?" he asked, mildly surprised.
"Wanted to finish those reports before tomorrow," I said, hugging my bag. "I didn't realize how late it got."
He glanced at his watch. "Come on. I'll give you a ride."
I hesitated. "No, I'm fine. I can just—"
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not offering. I'm insisting."
I blinked. Okay then.
The ride was quiet for the first few minutes—comfortable, surprisingly.
"Why media?" he asked, eyes on the road.
I glanced at him. "I like stories. I like the way they shape people's thoughts, inspire them... make them feel seen."
He nodded slowly. "Interesting."
"What about you?" I asked, half-teasing. "Why run a whole empire when you could just... I don't know, buy an island and disappear?"
That earned a soft chuckle. "Trust me, the island fantasy crosses my mind at least once a week. But... I like building things. I like creating structure out of chaos."
We pulled up to my apartment building sooner than I expected. He put the car in park.
"Thanks for the ride," I said, unclipping my seatbelt.
"Anytime, Amelia."
I stepped out of the car, smiling, and waved as he pulled away.
And then—disaster.
I reached into my coat pocket and froze.
No keys.
"Shit."
I hurried up the stairs, praying I'd somehow left the door unlocked.
But when I got to the hallway, my heart stopped.
My things—bags, clothes, books, even my busted electric kettle—were all thrown in a pile outside my door like I was yesterday's trash.
I stood frozen for a second, then stumbled forward. There was a paper taped to the door.
"1 week's notice expired. You're out."
My chest tightened. My breaths came faster. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even think.
In a panic, I fumbled for my phone. I couldn't even hold it steady.
And then, like some strange twist of fate, a call came in.
Levi.
I stared at the screen. Couldn't move.
It rang again.
I answered with trembling fingers. "H-Hello?"
"Amelia?" His voice came fast, sharp. "What's going on? You sound—what happened?"
"I… I'm fine," I whispered. "I just got home and… my stuff—he threw it out. He actually—he just—" My voice cracked.
There was silence on the other end. I thought maybe the call dropped, but then he said, low and dangerous:
"Don't move. I'm coming back."
I clutched my phone long after the call ended, hands still shaking, mind racing. I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. I had barely processed what just happened—what was still happening.
My life was sitting outside like it didn't matter. Like *I* didn't matter.
I hugged my knees to my chest, sitting beside the box holding my winter coat. The hallway was cold, and each passing second made the reality of it sting a little deeper.
And then—I heard it.
Footsteps.
Fast, urgent.
I turned, and there he was—Levi Banks, striding toward me like he'd sprinted through the night to get here. No suit. No polished CEO aura. Just concern written all over his face.
He didn't say anything at first. Just scanned the scattered pieces of my life and then settled his gaze on me.
"Jesus, Amelia."
"I'm fine," I croaked, even though I wasn't. Not even a little bit.
He knelt beside me without a word, his brows furrowed, jaw tight. "He really threw your stuff out?"
I nodded, suddenly ashamed, like this whole mess was somehow my fault.
"I thought… he'd give me more time. I tutor his daughter." My voice cracked again, but I held it back.
Levi didn't speak for a moment. Then, quietly, "You shouldn't be sitting out here like this."
I laughed bitterly. "Where else would I sit? Welcome to my glamorous life."
He stood, ran a hand through his hair, then looked down at me with that same intensity he always wore—only softer now. "Come on," he said.
"Where are we going?"
"You're not staying here tonight. Pack up what you need. You're coming with me."
My eyes widened. "Levi, I can't—"
"You can," he cut in, gently but firmly. "It's either that or I sit out here with you all night. Your choice."
I hesitated, my pride clawing at me. But something in his voice—calm, grounded, protective—made me let go.
I nodded.
We gathered my things quietly. He barely let me lift a box.
And as we drove away from the place I used to call home, I felt a strange calm settle in my chest. Not because everything was okay, but because… for the first time in a long time, someone didn't just walk away when things got hard.
He stayed.
And I wasn't sure what that meant yet, but God—it meant something.
*****
Levi's apartment wasn't what I expected
Minimalist, clean lines, dim warm lighting—it was quiet. Soothing. The kind of space that made you want to breathe slower.
He unlocked the door with a quick motion and nudged it open with his shoulder, box still in hand. "You can leave that by the hallway," I said quickly, not wanting to take up space I hadn't earned.
He gave me a look, the kind that said *don't start*, and set it down gently by a small console table.
"Make yourself comfortable," he added, nodding toward the living room.
I hesitated, still standing awkwardly in the doorway until he disappeared into what I guessed was the kitchen. I heard cabinets opening, then the soft bubbling of water in a kettle.
Minutes passed. When he came back, he held out a mug of tea—chamomile, I think. He didn't ask what I liked, but somehow, it was exactly what I needed.
"Thank you," I said, the words tasting unfamiliar.
We sat—well, I sat on the far edge of the couch. He sat on a single armchair opposite me, legs crossed, hands loose, like he didn't want to pressure me.
"You gonna tell me what happened?" he asked after a beat.
I sipped my tea instead. "Not much to tell," I replied flatly.
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't throw your whole life into boxes for no reason."
I shrugged. "Guess I've just had a long week."
He nodded slowly, clearly not buying it—but also not pushing.
A silence settled between us, not awkward but heavy, like both of us were testing the water. I glanced at him over the rim of my mug. He was watching me—not in that intimidating, corporate way—but with something quieter. Thoughtful.
"You know," he said finally, "you handle things like someone who's had to be strong for too long."
I blinked.
That struck a little too close.
I chuckled dryly. "Well, I don't exactly have the luxury of falling apart."
Levi leaned back, exhaling. "I get that. But... you're allowed to lean sometimes, Amelia. Even if it's just for one night."
I looked down at the tea in my hands. The warmth was seeping into my palms, soft and steady.
"Thanks," I whispered. "For tonight. For the tea. For not… making this weird."
He gave a half-smile. "Trust me, I've had weirder nights."
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips.
When I finally stood, he didn't offer a guest room, didn't hover—just led me down the hallway to a cozy room with neatly folded sheets and a fresh towel.
"If you need anything," he said, pausing by the door, "I'll be out here."
I nodded. "I'll be fine."
But as I lay in the soft unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but wonder… who *really* was Levi Banks beneath all that quiet charm?
And what was he doing getting under my skin?