Adrian Kane didn't speak as he left his father's office. His footsteps echoed through the marble hallway, each one a reminder of the legacy he'd once rejected. Zara walked beside him, silent, her presence as composed as ever. She didn't look at him, but he could feel her awareness—like static in the air.
The elevator arrived with a soft chime. They stepped in, the mirrored walls reflecting their silhouettes: the heir and the assistant, dressed in power, wrapped in secrets.
"You didn't say much in there," Adrian said, voice low.
"I wasn't asked to," Zara replied, her eyes fixed ahead.
He studied her profile. Calm. Controlled. But there was something beneath the surface—something she didn't want him to see.
"You always this obedient?"
Zara turned slightly, her gaze cool. "I'm professional."
Adrian leaned against the wall. "Professional doesn't mean emotionless."
She didn't respond. The elevator climbed in silence, each floor a countdown to something neither of them could name.
When the doors opened, Adrian stepped out first. The lobby was quieter now, the buzz of the day fading into evening. Outside, the city pulsed with life—cars, lights, ambition. He paused by the glass doors, then turned to her.
"Tell me something," he said. "Why did my father hire you?"
Zara hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.
"He saw potential," she said.
Adrian stepped closer. "Or leverage."
She didn't flinch. "You think everyone's a pawn?"
"In his world? Yes."
Zara's voice dropped. "Then maybe you're the king."
Adrian smiled, slow and sharp. "Or the sacrifice."
He walked out into the night, the city swallowing him whole. Zara watched him go, her heart pounding in a rhythm she refused to acknowledge.
Back at her desk, she tried to focus. Emails. Reports. Schedules. But her thoughts kept drifting—to the way Adrian had looked at her, like he saw something she'd buried long ago.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Victor.
> "Boardroom. Ten minutes. Bring the files."
She grabbed the folder, her expression hardening. Victor Kane didn't tolerate weakness. He'd hired her for her precision, her loyalty, and her silence. Especially the silence.
The boardroom was already filling when she arrived. Executives in tailored suits, murmuring about leaks and lawsuits. Adrian was there too, seated at the far end, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.
Victor entered last, commanding the room with a glance. Zara handed him the folder, her fingers brushing his for a brief second. He didn't acknowledge her. He never did in public.
The meeting began—talk of mergers, threats, media pressure. Zara took notes, her mind split between the words being spoken and the man watching her from across the room.
Adrian didn't speak much. He observed. Calculated. And every so often, his gaze flicked to her.
She hated that it made her pulse race.
After the meeting, as the room emptied, Adrian lingered. Zara began gathering the files, but his voice stopped her.
"You're not just an assistant," he said.
She froze. "Excuse me?"
"You walk like someone who's used to hiding things."
She turned slowly, her face composed. "And you talk like someone who's used to being listened to."
He stood, closing the distance between them. "I'm listening now."
Zara's heart pounded. She met his gaze, refusing to back down. "Then hear this: I don't play games. Especially not with heirs who think they can read me."
Adrian tilted his head, intrigued. "You're not afraid of me."
"No," she said. "I'm afraid of what you might uncover."
He paused, eyes searching hers. "What are you hiding, Zara?"
She stepped back, gathering the last of the papers. "Nothing you need to know."
And with that, she walked out, leaving him standing in the silence she'd mastered.
But as she returned to her desk, her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't Victor.
It was a message from an unknown number.
> "He's asking questions. Be careful."
Zara stared at the screen, her breath caught in her throat.
Adrian Kane was back. And the past she'd buried was clawing its way to the surface.