The morning began like any other—phones ringing, papers shuffling, and whispers buzzing through the office. But for Elena, it was another day of torment.
She had barely sat down when Amara sauntered over, holding a stack of reports.
"These need to be typed and reviewed by noon," Amara said with a fake smile, slamming them onto Elena's desk. The pile was twice the normal workload.
Elena's heart sank. "But… these are supposed to be divided among three staff members."
"Not anymore." Amara's eyes glittered. "Consider it… a chance to prove you're not as useless as you look."
Laughter rippled quietly from a few watching employees.
Goldie slammed her hands on the desk, standing up. "That's not fair! You can't just—"
"Oh, hush," Amara snapped, glaring at her. "Your little friend should be grateful she's even allowed to sit here. Without Mr. Marino, she's nothing."
Elena lowered her gaze, fighting the sting in her eyes. She wanted to disappear, to run back to the quiet countryside where at least the cruelty came from hunger, not people's hearts.
Then, the elevator chimed.
Every head turned.
The doors slid open.
And there he was.
Vincenzo Marino strode into the office, tall and commanding, his black suit sharp as a blade. His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone was enough to silence the entire floor.
"Boss," Caruso murmured as he followed close behind. Everyone else bowed their heads slightly, murmuring greetings.
Elena froze. Her chest tightened. He was back.
Amara's smirk returned instantly. She straightened her posture, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, already planning her next move. "Mr. Marino! You're back—we missed you."
But Vincenzo's dark eyes weren't on her.
They were locked on Elena.
His gaze swept over her desk—the impossible pile of work, the nervous curve of her shoulders, the tears she tried to hide. Something inside him snapped.
He turned his full attention on Amara.
"What," his voice cut through the air like a whip, "is this?"
Amara blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "Oh—these? Just routine assignments. Elena here was falling behind, so I thought—"
"Enough." His command was ice and fire. The room fell into a suffocating silence.
Vincenzo stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Amara. "Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I don't see what's been happening here?"
Amara faltered. "I—I was only trying to help the office—"
"Help?" His jaw tightened. "By humiliating her? By turning this place into your personal stage for cruelty?"
Gasps echoed around the room. Never before had the CEO raised his voice like this in front of everyone.
Amara's face drained of color. "Mr. Marino, please, I—"
But Vincenzo cut her off with a glare so sharp it could have cut stone. "If you ever treat Elena that way again, you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?"
Amara's lips trembled. "Y-Yes…"
"Good." His voice dropped to a deadly calm. "Now get out of my sight."
Amara staggered back, humiliated, her pride shattered. For once, no one dared to come to her defense.
Vincenzo then turned to Elena. His voice softened in a way that shocked the entire office. "Are you all right?"
Elena's throat tightened. She nodded weakly, unable to find her voice.
He reached for the stack of papers on her desk, lifting them effortlessly. "This is not your responsibility." He handed them to Caruso. "Reassign these to the proper departments. Immediately."
"Yes, sir," Caruso replied, hiding the faintest trace of a smile.
Whispers broke out across the office. The feared CEO—the man who commanded boardrooms and empires—had just defended Elena in front of everyone.
Goldie grinned so wide her cheeks hurt. Finally, she thought. Finally, the lion has roared.
Vincenzo's gaze lingered on Elena for a moment longer, softer now, almost tender. Then, with a small motion of his hand, he said, "Elena. My office. Now."
Every jaw in the room dropped.
Elena stood, her knees shaking, and followed him into the lion's den—her heart racing with fear and something far more dangerous.
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