The office door clicks shut behind her.
Leila doesn't look back.
She adjusts the strap of her bag, her fingers trembling for a second before she presses them still against her side. Her face remains composed — the same expressionless calm she's mastered over the years.
Down the hallway, people carry on like nothing happened. Her pace is steady. Her breath isn't.
The overhead lights hum. Somewhere, a printer whirs to life. Normal sounds. But her skin still feels warm under her scarf, like it's holding onto the weight of that room. Of him.
She hadn't expected the CEO to say so little. Or to look at her like he already knew what her silence meant.
At the elevator, she presses the button and keeps her eyes forward.
Behind her, she senses someone walk past — tall, suit-clad — but she doesn't flinch. Doesn't turn.
The elevator dings. She steps in. Alone.
Only when the doors close does she let out a soft, slow breath.
Her hand brushes against the edge of her notebook inside her bag. The one where she scribbles affirmations, reminders, goals. Today, she doesn't open it.
She lifts her chin.
You stood your ground. That's enough.
The elevator descends.
Elias leans back in the leather chair of his private office, the door quietly shut behind him. The echo of her voice still lingers, sharper than anything else that came out of that meeting.
"I can tolerate anything in the world except anybody pointing a finger on my character and my family—these two things are my last hooks."
The words weren't just defiance. They were boundaries. Lines carved in stone.
He turns slowly to the one-way glass that faces the corridor outside the boardroom. She's gone now, the room empty. But her presence remains.
"She didn't flinch," he murmurs.
Kai, sprawled in a nearby chair with a half-amused, half-stunned expression, lets out a low whistle. "That… was something."
Elias doesn't respond immediately. He's watching the invisible imprint she's left in space.
"She's not what they think she is," he finally says. "Or what we thought."
Kai huffs a laugh. "No kidding. That was the cleanest takedown I've ever seen in a corporate room. She didn't even raise her voice." A pause. "Did you see the look on Meyer's face? He shriveled like a burnt receipt."
Elias's jaw tenses. "He underestimated her."
"They all did. I did," Kai admits, then narrows his eyes at Elias. "But not you. You've been watching her."
Silence stretches between them. Elias's gaze is fixed, somewhere far beyond the room.
"She's quiet," Elias finally says, his voice low. "Too quiet for this place. And yet… somehow, she's louder than all of them."
Kai leans forward. "You ever seen someone that... calm? While having her name dragged through filth?"
Elias shakes his head. "She didn't defend herself out of ego. She was defending something deeper. Something anchored."
Kai studies his boss. "You're not just impressed."
Elias doesn't reply. He just turns back toward the glass, his fingers steepled, brows furrowed.
For the first time in a long time, Elias Sinclair doesn't have a move ready. All he has is a quiet question echoing in his mind—
Who are you really, Leila Zaman?