The next day, everyone resumed work as usual.
The office came alive in its familiar rhythm—heels clicking against the marble floors, quiet greetings exchanged, coffee machines humming softly. To anyone watching, nothing was out of place. Cindy arrived early, just as she always did, dressed neatly, face calm, movements precise.
No one knew she had spent the night in Adrian's house.
No one knew how little sleep she'd had, or how carefully she had composed herself that morning to hide it. If her chest felt tight or her thoughts wandered dangerously, she buried it beneath discipline. This was work. She would not let anything show.
She prepared Adrian's coffee with steady hands, placed it on his desk, and glanced briefly at the itinerary. She memorized it instantly so she wouldn't need to return. She didn't linger. She didn't look at him longer than necessary. She turned and walked back to her office.
This was business.
Not long after, Floral walked into Adrian's office. Through the glass walls, Cindy could see vague movements—documents spread out, heads bent, long pauses. They stayed there for a long time, working on a document tied to an important contract that needed urgent attention.
Half of the day passed quietly.
Cindy focused on her work, replying to emails, typing reports, organizing schedules. Still, she noticed it—Adrian was distracted. His responses were slower than usual. His attention drifted. At one point, she glanced toward his office and saw him staring into nothing, his jaw tight.
She bit lightly on the end of her pen.
I don't care if he's busy or not, she told herself. This is business. I shouldn't be seeking attention from my boss.
The thought irritated her. She straightened in her chair and refocused.
That was when someone stopped by.
One of the male IT staff passed her office, noticed her door was open, and paused. After a brief hesitation, he smiled and stepped inside.
"Good afternoon, Cindy."
"Good afternoon," she replied politely.
"You know what I like about you?" he said casually. "You've been so professional and quiet in this office. You always mind your business. It's rare."
Cindy smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate that."
He laughed and went on, making light jokes about work, systems crashing, long nights at the office. Before she realized it, Cindy laughed—softly at first, then more freely.
She didn't notice when Floral left Adrian's office.
She didn't notice when Adrian finished.
But Adrian noticed her.
He heard the laughter.
It wasn't loud or inappropriate, but it wasn't something he heard often—especially not from Cindy. He stood still, eyes narrowing as he followed the sound to its source.
Her office.
He walked toward it, steps controlled, expression darkening when he saw a man leaning too comfortably inside her space. And when Cindy laughed again—light, unguarded—something in him tightened sharply.
"Cindy."
His voice cut through the air.
"MY office. Now."
The tone was sharp. Mean.
The IT staff froze, stood up immediately, and left without a word.
Cindy's smile vanished. She rose, smoothed her skirt, and walked to Adrian's office. She knocked once before entering.
"Sir, you called me?"
"Yes, Cindy," Adrian replied. "I called you."
He reached into a drawer and pulled out an envelope, placing it on the desk.
"I want you to go on an errand for me at the bank. Take this money and deposit it. Be back within two hours."
Cindy hesitated for a second. "Okay, sir."
She picked up the envelope, but something settled heavily in her chest. She knew this errand wasn't necessary. It was the accountant team's responsibility, not hers.
As she walked out, the realization formed clearly.
He changed after seeing that staff in my office.
I'm being tested.
She completed the errand quickly and returned in just over an hour. She reported to Adrian briefly and went back to her office.
The rest of the day dragged on.
At closing time, most staff packed up and left. Cindy stayed behind, as she often did, determined to finish work so her morning would be lighter.
The office was quiet when Adrian walked into her office without knocking. He closed the door behind him and sat across from her desk.
"Cindy," he said calmly, "what was the IT staff doing in your office earlier that made you laugh that hard?"
She felt intruded upon but kept her composure. "Nothing, sir. It was just a normal office gesture. Nothing more."
His eyes searched her face.
"Nothing more," he repeated.
"Yes, sir."
The silence that followed pressed hard against her chest.
Adrian leaned back slightly, fingers steepled, his gaze unwavering.
"You're free to go," he said.
Cindy stood. "Good night, sir."
She reached the door.
"Cindy."
"Yes, sir?"
"You stay late often," he said. "You should be careful."
"Careful, sir?"
"People notice patterns," he replied. "They ask questions."
"I stay late because of work."
"I know," he said smoothly. "I approve of your dedication."
The words sounded like praise—but felt like ownership.
She left.
That night at home, Cindy couldn't focus. Her phone buzzed.
Adrian: Did you get home safely?
Her breath caught.
Cindy: Yes, sir.
Three dots appeared. Then it disappeared.
Adrian: Good.
She placed the phone face down, her heart pounding.
The next morning, the atmosphere shifted.
Adrian was sharper, more controlled. Meetings ran longer. His authority felt heavier.
Then he reassigned her desk.
"You'll move closer to my office," he said.
"Is there an issue, sir?"
"No. I want you to be accessible."
As Cindy packed her things, she felt eyes on her. Later, Floral stopped by.
"You seem closer to the boss these days."
"It's just work," Cindy replied.
But she knew better.
This wasn't just work anymore.
Adrian wasn't just watching her.
He was tightening control—over her space, her time, her visibility.
And the most dangerous part?
She hadn't stopped him.