The day began like every other Monday, emails, coffee that tasted like burnt rubber, and the steady rhythm of keyboard taps echoing through the top floor of Harrington & Co.
At exactly 8:59 a.m., Olivia Carter walked into the CEO's office, her heels clicking with precision. A crisp envelope rested in her hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Harrington," she said, her tone calm, polite, professional, the same tone she'd used for three years.
Ethan Harrington, stoic and focused, barely glanced up from his screen. "Morning. The quarterly report?"
"Not exactly."
She placed the envelope on his desk.
"My resignation letter."
The click of his keyboard stopped.
He looked up. Slowly. "Your what?"
"I'm resigning, sir. Two weeks' notice."
Her voice didn't tremble, though her heart hammered in her chest.
Ethan blinked once, twice, as if she'd just said something in another language. "Resigning."
"Yes."
He stared at her, his secretary, his right hand, the person who knew his schedule better than he did and for a rare, horrifying second, his mind went blank.
"Why?"
The word escaped sharper than he intended.
"I just think it's time for a change," Olivia said. "I've been here three years. I've learned a lot."
"You're not being poached by Grantwell or some other firm?"
"Of course not."
"Then you're not serious."
"I am."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, studying her. Most employees would've fidgeted under his gaze. Olivia didn't. She stood perfectly straight, her expression unreadable.
Professional to the end. Infuriatingly so.
The silence stretched until the hum of the city below filled it.
Finally, he said, "You can't."
Her brows lifted. "Excuse me?"
"You can't resign."
"With due respect, Mr. Harrington.."
"You're important to this company," he interrupted. "You're..."
His throat tightened. The word slipped before he could stop it.
"irreplaceable."
Her breath caught. Just slightly.
And then silence.
He cleared his throat, suddenly fascinated by his desk calendar. "I mean, to the company. Obviously."
"Of course."
Her lips curved, was that amusement? He couldn't tell.
"I'll finish my projects before I go," she said. "And I'll help transition whoever you hire."
"Transition," he muttered, like it was a curse word. "You're serious."
"I am."
Her voice softened, not cold but certain. "You'll be fine, sir."
Ethan watched her leave, the scent of her perfume lingering faintly behind.
For the first time in years, his office felt… empty.
Outside, the bullpen buzzed as usual. But when Olivia walked out, a few heads turned. Rachel, the PR manager, raised her brows. Logan, Ethan's VP and closest thing to a friend, mouthed, what happened?
Olivia just smiled politely and returned to her desk.
Inside his office, Ethan stared at her resignation letter.
Then he crumpled it and tossed it into the trash.
Outside, Olivia exhaled, checking her phone.
A text blinked on the screen from an unsaved number:
> D. Carter: Are you sure you're ready for this?
Her fingers hovered before she locked the phone and whispered,
"Yes."