~Helena~âNo, Helena. You have to come to this party. Youâre always backing out. You need to have some fun, girl.âOne of my colleagues leaned across the office table earlier that day, trying her best to guilt me into going.âI do have fun,â I had said, wrinkling my nose.She smirked knowingly. âYou mean sitting at home, ordering takeout, and bingeing ice cream like youâre starring in some sad drama? Please, that doesnât count.âI rolled my eyes, but she wasnât letting up. âJust come to this one. One party. If you donât like it, Iâll never bother you again. But at least give it a shot.âHer eyes widened into exaggerated puppy-dog pleading. I groaned, realizing she wasnât going to let me go without an answer.âFine!â I threw my hands up.She squealed loud enough for the whole floor to hear. âYes! Finally! Iâll send you the details. Donât even think about backing out.âAnd just like that, my fate was sealed.By the time evening rolled around, I was pacing in my room, glaring at my refle
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~Helena~ âWhy would he want me to work for him?â The question rolled off my lips in a whisper, though the silence of the finance department seemed to throw it right back at me. My voice trembled, not just from curiosity but from the growing unease that had become my shadow since I discovered my fatherâs death was no accident.Ever since the truth started trickling in, Victorâs threats, the unfinished stories, the fractured whispers about my dad, Iâd been living in a storm I wasnât ready for. Everything kept blowing up in my face faster than I could blink, and now Victor wanted me close to him. To work for him. For what? To use me? To keep tabs on me? To finish what he started with my dad?I pressed my palms against the cold metal cabinets of the file storage room. The air smelled faintly of dust and ink, as if it had been untouched for years. My knees bent, and I lowered myself onto the floor. Papers surrounded me like broken puzzle pieces waiting to be forced together.Dad⌠what we
~Ethan~ My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I drove away from Helenaâs street.What the hell just happened?Her face. Her closeness. The way her eyes had looked at me, unguarded, trusting, almost hopeful. I wanted to kiss her. God, Iâd nearly done it.But I couldnât.Not after Chloe. Not after Victor. Not after what betrayal had taught me.Iâd built walls for a reason. To keep this exact weakness out. Yet Helena Hart was breaking through without even trying.I cursed under my breath. She wasnât supposed to matter. She was supposed to be just my secretary. Replaceable. Forgettable.But then why did the thought of her lips haunt me? Why did the memory of her laugh follow me like a shadow?I gritted my teeth. Feelings were dangerous. She was dangerous.And yet, as I pulled into my driveway, one thought lodged itself in my mind, refusing to leave.What if Helena Hart is the one mistake I canât afford⌠and the one thing I canât resist?The next morning felt heavier than most. I w
~Helena~ I pressed my hand against my lips as I quietly closed the door to his office. Why did I say that? What was I thinking? My mind was spinning, my heart still unsteady. That was the first time I had ever seen Ethan Fisher like that. Vulnerable. Human. Not the cold, untouchable man who barked orders and carried himself like the world bent at his command. And yet⌠that fleeting glimpse shook me in a way I wasnât prepared for. He looked so raw, so unguarded. For a second, my chest tightened as though Iâd been allowed into a space no one else had seen. It frightened me, and it thrilled me. I left the office later that evening with my thoughts tangled. Instead of hailing a cab, I decided to walk home. The night air felt cooler than usual, brushing against my face, offering the relief I desperately needed. The city lights blurred, people rushed past, but all I could hear was the echo of my own thoughts. I had enough to worry about already. My father. His death. The whispers I had
~Ethan~Scenes of Helena stepping into the gathering still lingered in my head like a stubborn melody I couldnât silence. The way the dress hugged her figure, the quiet strength in her posture, the flicker of nerves in her eyes that she masked with grace. Iâd chosen that dress. At the time, I told myself it was just a professional decision, about appearances and reputation. But when I saw her walk in, radiant in a way I hadnât expected, Iâd felt something snap inside me.She looked different. Not in a bad way, never in a bad way. But in a way that unsettled me, pulled me into a place I swore Iâd never revisit. She looked like someone who belonged in my world, someone I couldnât ignore. And that terrified me.I tried to bury it, to shove the memory into a locked drawer in my mind. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw her again. The gleam of the emerald silk. The way her hand trembled only slightly when she took my arm. The way she stole the attention of the room without even trying