(Lilian's POV)
I showed up an hour early the next morning.
Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was desperation. Probably both.
The office was still quiet, just the soft hum of computers and the cleaning staff finishing up. I slipped inside.
My desk looked exactly as I'd left it: neat, lonely, uninspiring. A paper cup of coffee sat beside my monitor, already cold.
I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him again, the way he'd looked at me after I spilled coffee on his files. That expressionless stare that somehow felt worse than being yelled at.
"Good morning, Miss Blake."
I turned to find her standing there. Mia. The kind of woman who made this job look easy, flawless hair, expensive perfume, the confidence of someone who never had to worry about rent.
"Morning," I said quietly.
She smiled sweetly. "I heard about yesterday. Tough luck. Mr. Reed doesn't forgive mistakes easily."
"I know."
"Well…" She tilted her head, pretending sympathy. "At least you're still here. That's… something."
She walked away before I could respond, heels clicking like punctuation marks.
I let out a slow breath. One day I'd learn how to block people like her out. Just not today.
I busied myself preparing reports for the morning briefing. Everything had to be perfect. Every comma, every chart, every label.
When the clock struck eight, people began filling the floor, voices low, energy tense. Grayson Reed had that effect on everyone. Even the printers seemed quieter when he was around.
I checked my reflection on the black screen of my monitor, then took the freshly printed report and made my way to his office.
My palms were sweaty. My heart raced.
I knocked once. "Sir, I have the report you asked for."
"Come in," he said, his voice smooth but distant.
He didn't look up when I entered. He was focused on his laptop, the light from the window outlining his sharp profile.
I placed the report on his desk. "Here's the file for today's client meeting."
He picked it up without a glance at me. "Try not to ruin this one, Miss Blake."
My stomach twisted. "Yes, sir."
I turned to leave.
"Wait."
I froze.
He looked up with those gray eyes. "You stayed late last night."
"Yes," I said softly. "I wanted to make sure everything was reprinted correctly."
He studied me for a moment too long then said, "Good."
Just that one word. But for some reason, it hit differently.
"Is that all?" I asked.
He nodded once and went back to typing. The conversation was over before it began.
I left the room with my heart pounding, wondering why even a single word from him could shake me like that.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Meetings, calls, a million little tasks that didn't matter.
By noon, the whispers had started again.
"Did you hear? Reed found out about her father."
"Debt-related, I think."
"She's only here because he feels sorry for her."
I froze in the hallway, file in hand. The words hit harder than I wanted to admit.
I didn't even know how much Grayson actually knew. The company had been the one to take over my father's debt after his passing, but I'd never spoken to Grayson directly about it.
Until now, I'd hoped it was buried in paperwork.
But if he knew…
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep walking.
The moment I returned to my desk, Emma appeared beside me with a worried look. "Hey. You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said too quickly.
"Lily, don't let them get to you. They love gossip."
"Yeah," I muttered. "I noticed."
Still, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that things were about to get worse.
At five, when most people began leaving, I stayed behind again, partly to avoid the traffic, partly to keep my mind busy.
But mostly because I didn't want to run into Grayson.
I was halfway through sorting out invoices when I heard his door open. Heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet office.
He stopped near my desk.
"Still here?" His tone was casual, but it made me jump anyway.
"I…yes, sir. I was finishing up the finance summaries."
"Dedication," he said lightly, though it didn't sound like a compliment. "You do know overtime isn't mandatory, Miss Blake."
"I know."
He nodded, gaze flicking to the screen, then to me. "Go home."
"I'll just wrap this up first."
"Now."
Something in his tone made my chest tighten.
"Yes, sir."
When he left, I sat there for a moment, staring at the dark glass of his door. My reflection looked small and tired.
And for the first time, I wondered if maybe, just maybe my boss was trying to warn me about something I couldn't see yet.
(Grayson's POV)
She left the office looking small, too quiet.
For someone who managed to cause chaos on her first day of the week, Lilian Blake had a strange way of disappearing into the background. No noise. No excuses. Just… silence.
Most people tried to impress me. She just tried to survive.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose. It had been a long day, meetings, reports, another string of half-witted managers asking for budget approvals.
But somehow, my mind kept circling back to her.
Her voice when she said "I'm sorry."
The look in her eyes. Regret. Maybe dignity.
I told myself it was just irritation. I hated mistakes, and she'd made a mess on my desk, literally. That should have been enough reason to fire her.
Yet here she was. Still employed.
I pulled open her file on the company server, scrolling through her records. Secretary, administrative assistant, transferred from the lower branch after her department was dissolved. Clean record. Average performance reviews. Nothing stood out.
Until I reached the financial section.
Debt inheritance: Blake Holdings.
Creditor: Reed Industries.
I stilled.
Her father's name was familiar, Harold Blake. He'd been one of the smaller contractors under our logistics branch years ago. Reliable for a while, until his company collapsed under loans.
I remembered signing off the liquidation order myself.
Now his daughter worked under me.
Coincidence, or poetic irony, I wasn't sure which.
I shut the file and exhaled slowly.
Pity was a weakness. It clouded judgment. My father taught me that early, mercy cost money.
Still, I couldn't ignore the faint twist in my chest.
She'd been carrying her father's debt this whole time? Working overtime, probably to cover the interest that would never end.
I should have dismissed her yesterday. But I didn't.
Because when I looked at her this morning, standing there, trying to look composed while her hands trembled, something about that stubbornness kept me from saying the words.
Instead, I told her to "try not to ruin this one."
A poor attempt at pretending I didn't care.
Pathetic.
I closed my laptop, the faint hum of the office fading into silence.
Through the glass wall, I could see her empty desk. She'd left neatly, no clutter, no personal items. Like she didn't expect to last here long.
Maybe she was right.
But not yet.
I had zero patience for weakness, but curiosity? That was harder to control.
She'd stay.
For now.
Until she messed up again.