Chapter 3: The Mistake

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the glass wall of Croft Holdings Architecture Group into mirrors that reflected nothing but the grey skies over the city.

Raphina Vance pressed her sketch tube tighter against her chest as she hurried through the revolving doors. The marble lobby gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers, every polished surface reminding her she didn’t belong among billion-dollar projects and impeccably dressed executives.

She checked her watch, 8:47a.m, late again, her stomach twisted.

Three months into her dream job as a junior architect and she had already developed a reputation for arriving just under the wire. It was laziness. Every morning began at the hospital with her twelve-year old brother, Bruno, whose failing heart requires constant treatment. From there, she caught two buses across the city before rushing into the office with barely enough time to catch her breath beneath.

She had learned to smile in exhaustion. No one here knew and no one needed to.

The receptionist offered a sympathetic smile. “Morning, Miss Vance.”

“Morning” Raphina hurried away towards the elevators just as the polished steel doors began to close.

“Hold it!.” A hand slipped between the doors, the elevators reopened. Silas in a charcoal suit stepped inside without looking at anyone, conversation in the lobby died instantly.

Raphina froze. The youngest billionaire in the industry, he stood with effortless authority, his back still damp from the rain. Sharp grey eyes stared at the illuminated floor numbers as if acknowledging the people around him required too much effort.

Raphina swallowed. Yesterday was totally different but today he was emitting too much power. The silence inside the elevator became suffocating. Someone’s phone buzzed, nobody dared to answer it. When the doors opened on the twentieth floor, Silas walked out first.

Only after he disappeared into the executive corridor did everyone exhale. He never enters the same elevator as the employees.

“I swear,” one employee whispered,” the temperature drops every time he walks into a room.

Raphina almost laughed. She still had ten minutes before the weekly designs review, to print revised blueprint and to prove that she deserves to be here. The architecture department buzzed with controlled chaos, blue print covered every available table, designs models stood like miniature cities beneath bright white lights.

The Paramount Cultural Center. The largest project Croft Holdings had won two years back, it redefined the city’s skyline.

“Vance.”

She looked up. Yes sir?

The CEO wants the updated structural renderings before nine. Her pulse skipped, the CEO?

Martin Ellis, her supervisor, frowned.”problem?”

No. She grabbed the flash drive from her desk, I’ll send them immediately. Raphina inserted the drive into her computer, the rendering software loaded slowly.

By dusk, it had become a relentless storm beating against the mirrored glass of Croft Holdings Architecture Group. Raphina leaned over a drafting table as she made one final correction to the elevation drawings before her. She blinked away the ache in her eyes and rolled her stiff shoulders. She had been working since dawn, surviving on coffee and determination.

The digital clock on her computer read 8:52 p.m. She sighed,done. The word escaped in a whisper.

Her phone vibrated across the desk. Bruno, a smile softened her tired features as she answered. Hey!

Did you eat today? her younger brother asked immediately.

She laughed. “Is that your way of saying hello?”

You avoid the question every time.

“I had lunch…..At what time?”

Raphina glanced guilty at the untouched sand which wrapped in a paper beside her keyboard.

“You’re impossible,” Bruno muttered before she could answer. His voice was cheerful, but she knew him too well. Behind every joke lay the reality that neither of them could escape his heart condition.

Another surgery, another hospital bill they couldn’t afford.

“I’m okay,” he said gently, as if reading her thoughts. Don’t work too hard because of me.

“I’ll be home soon. I promise”

Every decision she made came back to Bruno. Her mother disappeared when she was eight, she was raised by Bruno’s mother, a kind woman who loved her like her real daughter. Their father had worked himself to exhaustion raising them alone after her step-mother passed away before cancer claimed him seven years earlier. Since then, Raphina had become sister, guardian and provider all at once.

Failure wasn’t an option. As she reached for her bag, footsteps echoed through the quiet office.

Mr Marin, hurried towards her, already putting on his coat.

“There you are,” he said, relief washing all over his face, perfect timing. I just received Silas message.

Raphina stiffened. Even hearing the CEO’s first name spoken aloud felt unusual, most employees simply called him Mr Croft.

Mr Martins handed her a black acces card. “I need you to place the portfolio in Mr Croft office before you leave.”

Raphina stared at the card. Me?? “I’ve… never been to his private office only his work office”

Mr Martins chuckled nervously, neither have I. Her brows lifted, you’ve worked here for twelve years.” And I’d like to work another twelve.”

She couldn’t help smiling. The smile vanished as soon as she looked at the access card again. The executive floor belonged to Silas Croft alone, rumors surrounded him like shadows.

He had dismissed an entire consulting team after discovering a calculation error barely visible to the naked eye. He once postponed a multimillion-dollar project because the lobby ceiling was five millimeters lower then his speculation.

Some called him brilliant, most called him impossible. Mr Martins lowered his voice,” just leave the porfolio on his desk and walk away.” Raphina nodded.

The private elevator carried her to the top floor in eerie silence. The doors opened onto a corridor lined with black marble and minimalist artwork. Soft recessed lighting illuminated each step, making the space feel more like an art gallery than a corporate office. At the end of the hallway stood two imposing walnut doors.

A polished silver plaque reads: Silas Croft, Chief Executive Office.

Raphina’s beart quickened, taking a deep breath she swiped the access card, the lock clicked.

She stepped inside, the office was unlike anything she had imagined. No unnecessary decorations, everything was perfectly ordered, the shelves displayed architecture awards from London, Dubai, Singapore and New York. On the other side stood a drafting table covered by a cloth, as though its owner still designed by hand despite overseeing an international empire.

The room didn’t merely belong to Silas Croft, it revealed him. Discoplined, private, demanding and lonely. Raphina carefully placed the leather porfolio in the center of his desk.

“There,” she murmured.

Her phone buzzed again. A message from her best friend Mia Angelo. Still alive? Or did the Ice king finally notice you exist.