Novels by Ammiee

(Jayden’s POV)She thinks I let her walk out.That’s the first mistake.I stand exactly where she left me, eyes on the door long after it closes, long after the echo fades. Stillness is a skill. It convinces people you’re not moving when you already have.She said she wouldn’t go as the person I think she is.She doesn’t understand.There is no version of her that isn’t seen.There is only the version that is… accounted for.I glance at the location on her screen one last time, commit it to memory, then reach for my phone.“Lock down the floor,” I say the moment the call connects. “No one leaves without clearance.”A pause.“Yes, Mr. Roberts.”“Route all internal communications through my office. I want a copy of everything sent in the last twelve hours—emails, access logs, camera pings.”“Yes, sir.”I end the call before the questions start.Questions waste time.I move to the window, watching the city move like it always does—indifferent, efficient, unaware of how quickly it can be

The meeting didn’t end.It dissolved.No resolution.No agreement.Just a quiet, controlled exit that felt more like retreat than closure.Chairs shifted. Papers gathered. Eyes avoided.No one spoke directly to me as they stood.That was the first change.Yesterday, I had been invisible.Today, I was… something else.A problem.A risk.A variable no one could quite place.I felt it in the way conversations stopped when I walked past.In the way some of them looked at me like they were already calculating the cost of keeping me.And the way others didn’t look at me at all.Jayden didn’t say anything as we left the boardroom.He didn’t need to.The silence between us wasn’t empty.It was heavy.Deliberate.We walked down the corridor side by side, the executive floor unusually quiet now that the meeting had ended.I didn’t speak until we reached his office.The door closed behind us with a soft click.That sound felt final.I turned to him.“You knew.”Jayden loosened his cuff slightly,

“It started beside you.”The words didn’t echo.They settled.Slowly.Deliberately.Like something heavy placed in the center of the table for everyone to examine.No one rushed to react.No one denied it.And somehow, that was worse.I felt every pair of eyes in the room shift toward me again—sharper now, more focused, no longer just curious.Calculating.Connecting.Rewriting everything they thought they knew.My fingers tightened slightly around my phone under the table.The board member who had spoken leaned forward just a fraction.“Let’s look at this logically,” he said, tone calm, almost reasonable. “Last night’s incident involved Miss Sanders directly.”No one interrupted.“She was supposed to be on that stage,” he continued. “Instead, her sister appeared in her place. A public disruption followed.”His gaze didn’t leave mine.“And now,” he added, “we have a media leak containing internal insight… coincidentally centered around her position.”The word coincidentally lingered i

“If anyone in this room has a problem with Melissa being here,” Jayden said evenly, “you’re welcome to resign.”Silence followed.Not the kind that meant agreement.The kind that meant resistance.I felt it immediately.It settled into the room like something sharp—unspoken, but present.No one moved.No one stood up.But no one backed down either.The board member who had spoken earlier leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers steepled, gaze fixed on Jayden.“This isn’t about discomfort, Mr. Roberts,” he said calmly. “It’s about governance.”The word carried weight.Deliberate.Carefully chosen.Another board member nodded slightly.“We’re not questioning your authority,” she added. “We’re questioning your judgment.”My chest tightened.Jayden didn’t react.At least—not visibly.But I felt the shift beside me.Subtle.Dangerous.The first man continued, his tone still controlled.“Last night’s incident has already raised concerns externally. Now we’re seeing internal irregularities

I woke up to silence.Not the peaceful kind.The kind that feels unnatural after chaos—like the world had paused just long enough for everything to catch up with me.For a few seconds, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was.Then it all came back.The gala.The stage.Malia.Jayden.My chest tightened.I turned my head slowly and reached for my phone on the bedside table.The screen lit up.And my breath caught.Notifications flooded the display.Dozens.No—hundreds.Messages. Missed calls. Emails. News alerts.My stomach dropped as I unlocked the phone.The headlines were worse than last night.“Mystery Woman Beside CEO Sparks Corporate Frenzy.”“Assistant or Something More? The Woman Behind Jayden Roberts.”“Anniversary Gala Turns Into Power Play.”My fingers tightened slightly around the phone.I scrolled further.Photos.So many photos.Malia in the emerald dress.Jayden stopping her.Me walking onto the stage.Me holding the microphone.Me standing be

‎The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.‎‎For a moment, I didn’t move.‎‎Everything from the last hour replayed inside my head in fragments—camera flashes, whispers in the ballroom, Malia’s stunned expression, Jayden’s voice cutting through the room like a blade.‎‎The humiliation.‎‎The applause.‎‎The way he had pulled me onto the stage as if it had always been my place.‎‎My heels suddenly felt too heavy.‎‎My chest felt too tight.‎‎Jayden stepped out of the elevator first, then turned slightly when he realized I hadn’t followed.‎‎“You’re overthinking,” he said.‎‎I blinked.‎‎“I’m not overthinking.”‎‎His eyebrow lifted faintly.‎‎“You’re standing in an elevator that already opened.”‎‎That made me step forward.‎‎The doors closed behind us with a quiet slide.‎‎The penthouse hallway felt almost unnaturally quiet after the chaos of the gala.‎‎I exhaled slowly as we walked.‎‎“You just humiliated my sister in front of half the business world.”‎‎Jayde