CHAPTER SIX

Sleep never came.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I felt like someone was watching me. The envelope from last night floated in the dark, taunting me.

The anonymous message replayed in my head way too often than I wanted it to. The photo on my side table lived rent-free in my mind.

His face.

Liam, mid-laugh, head slightly tilted looking at me like I was saying the most interesting thing in the world.

A look I haven’t gotten to see since I got back.

And worst of all, I hate to admit it but I was getting scared from the warning.

Someone had followed us to dinner.

Close enough to take those pictures.

I had turned the envelope over again, inspecting it for anything. a mark, an initial, even the smell of something familiar. Nothing.

Whoever sent it had been careful.

And they knew where to find me.

I couldn’t call the police, that would mean opening a file and answering questions. Who do I tell them I was?

Elsie Monroe?

Or Anita Marshals?

So I did what I always did when things spun too far out of my control.

I cleaned.

Scrubbed the already spotless counters. Reorganized my fridge. Folded my throw blankets with surgical precision. Every few minutes, my eyes returned to the photograph.

____

By morning, my body felt like it had been dragged through broken glass. I pulled my coat tight around me, tucking the envelope deep into my bag, and stepped out into the gray morning light.

The city moved fast.

Chicago doesn’t rise gently, it is a city with buzz, sweat, and ambition. The streets were slick from a light rain overnight, the kind that made everything shimmer under the morning light.

By the time I stepped off the elevator on the executive floor, I had plastered on the kind of expression that said I was fine, focused, and maybe just a little too early for someone who barely slept.

Tara spotted me immediately.

“You look…..awake,” she said, raising a brow as she walked past the conference wing.

“I didn’t sleep much” I answered briefly.

“Ah. The Liam effect” she said halting her steps.

“Or wait did you have a busy night” she asked asked putting up her fingers in quotes.

I didn’t laugh.

“Hey, lighten up. I could make the best black tea for you and I have a secret ingredient to keep you awake in my drawer.” She nudged me.

“Thanks” I murmured.

I meant it.

“I got to make some of Mr Grey anyway.”

The weight of the night before pressed harder with each passing hour and steady yawns.

Still, I buried my head in work, calendar updates, client briefings, scheduling, and rescheduling meetings. Some of these meetings could be handled by any of the board members but Liam always insists on attending all his meetings. It felt like he was intentionally burying himself in work.

It was just past 11 when Maya stopped by.

We barely interact lately.

Liam sent for me.

“Good morning sir” I greeted the moment I walked through the glass door.

“Morning Miss Marshals.”

He was standing by the window with his back towards me. I couldn’t help but notice the broad shoulders and perfect abs sculpted by years of Gyming.

“Sit.”

He turned nodding towards the chair in front of me.

His white button-down sleeves were rolled up his arms and his first two buttons undone.

I obeyed.

He stared at me for a second too long.

“You handled last night well,” he said. “You kept up with the conversation, didn’t overspeak, didn’t embarrass me.”

“Two compliments in one week” I murmured.

“You’ve proven you’re more capable than most.”

I didn’t reply.

Just nodded.

He picked up a file from his desk and slid it toward me. My name *Anita Marshals* was typed neatly at the top.

“Your probation period ends today,” he said simply. “You’re officially on staff. Effective immediately.”

My throat tightened.

That meant I was now tethered to this company. To him.

But it also meant I’d earned a little more access. More freedom. More opportunities to uncover the truth.

“I hope that’s not a problem,” he added when I didn’t respond.

“No,” I said, voice steady. “Thank you.”

He nodded once. “Don’t prove me wrong.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

“I will give my best.”

For a moment, something cracked in his eyes. Something small and sharp.

“I’ll be attending a private strategy meeting with the board this evening. I want you there.”

I blinked. “Isn’t that close to assistants?”

“It is,” he said simply. “But I want you there.”

“Why?”

He looked at me. “Because you listen. And you remember.”

I swallowed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Hours were swallowed by phone calls, files, printed agendas, and revised minutes for the evening strategy meeting.

I avoided looking at the envelope buried deep in my bag, like it wasn’t burning a hole through the lining. There were other things to focus on now.

By five-thirty, I was waiting outside the boardroom, standing behind a glass wall with a binder pressed tightly against my chest. I could see them all inside. The top board of Grey Enterprises, seated like a jury around the long mahogany table.

Liam stood at the head of it.

He wasn’t speaking, but he had their full attention. Arms folded, chin slightly dipped, he studied a projection on the screen in front of him.

I’d seen him like this before. Years ago. That exact stance, a hand resting on his hip, lips pursed in concentration. He used to walk me through his numbers when he couldn’t sleep. Back then, the business excited him. Now, he looked like a cold CEO.

I took a quiet breath and entered, slipping into the designated seat beside him without disrupting the conversation.

He didn’t glance my way.

No one did.

Just as it should be.

I sat, listened, and took notes. Not because I was asked to but because I knew Liam would remember if I didn’t. He didn’t know me anymore, but he still expected competence. Precision. Awareness. It was the one thing I could offer.

For nearly an hour, I watched him work. The way his voice dipped when he explained a flaw in the third-quarter forecast. He paused, waited for the board members to catch up before moving on.

He listened attentively as every departmental head gave their reports.

The familiarity ached.

He still had that same stubborn glare when he challenged the marketing director’s budget proposal. That exact frown when a number didn’t sit right with him.

And suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about corporate strategies or evening agendas.

I was thinking, He is the kind of man I will fall in love with over and over again.