Zerah The meeting dragged on for the better part of an hour, but I couldn’t tell a single thing that was discussed. Words swam around me like muffled noise underwater, and though I sat with a pen in my hand and a notepad open on the table in front of me, the page remained blank. “Are you even competent enough to be in this room? “ Ryker’s voice echoed in my skull over and over again. My head was still spinning from the confrontation. I tried to push it aside, to focus, to breathe through it, but the damage had already been done. I felt small. Too small to be in this sleek boardroom with its glass walls and polished mahogany table. Too small to be sitting amongst suits worth more than my entire salary. And much too small to be sitting only two chairs down from the man who had publicly dismantled my dignity like it was nothing. When the meeting finally concluded, people began to rise from their seats, exchanging polite nods, rustling papers, and closing briefcases. I stood too, q
Zerah Silence settled again, but now it felt heavy, combustible. I forced myself to stand straighter, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My throat tightened; I could feel the rapid flutter of my pulse at my collarbone. “Miss Mikealson,” Ryker began, voice low and controlled, each word enunciated as if he were chiseling it from marble, “are you competent enough to even be in this room?” His tone was quiet but icy, there were no cracks of hesitation, no questions in his voice. Instead, it was a decree. My lips parted and closed. I tried to find words. My diaphragm seized. The sound I managed came out as a stuttered, “I—I’m not late, sir. Nathan instructed—” Ryker’s lips curled, and he turned his head slightly, addressing the entire board as if reading from a script. “She can’t even speak straight,” he said, voice raised just enough for the dozen or so seated members to hear,.though it remained barely above a whisper, so chilling that it echoed through the room.
Zerah Nearly every seat was taken. Men in sleek suits, women in sharply tailored blazers, portfolios resting on polished wood tables. Laptops glowed softly in front of them, coffee cups balanced on sleek coasters. The murmur of conversation filled the space, low and constant like the hum of a machine. No one looked rushed. No one looked like they had just arrived. They were already settled. WAITING. My eyes scanned the room quickly. There was Mr. Halden from Logistics, tapping a pen against his tablet. Mrs. Yin from Legal, already mid-conversation with someone I didn’t recognize. Even the notoriously late CFO, a man who once showed up two hours late to his own budget presentation, was seated, tie knotted perfectly and papers laid out before him like he’d been there all morning. I hadn’t expected this. I wasn’t late. Technically, I was right on time. But walking in now felt like walking in twenty minutes behind schedule. And every single person was here. Already. I stepped fully
Zerah The room was still, save for the soft, methodical sound of pages flipping under my fingers. I’d gotten into a rhythm, reviewing, noting, flipping. My pen hovered above the corner of a printed chart, my eyes narrowing. Something was off. The figures looked right at a glance, but the formatting didn’t match. It wasn’t major, just... odd. A discrepancy that sat at the edge of understanding. I let out a quiet sigh through my nose and pouted slightly, pressing my lips together the way I often did when trying to solve a puzzle. I circled the number with a neat loop and added a small question mark beside it before turning the page. The light overhead was cool white, casting soft reflections across the glossy surface of the table. The air inside the office had a slight chill to it, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough that I had to occasionally rub my palms together just to keep the edge off. A faint scent of lemon polish clung to the air from the morning’s cleaning, mixed
ZerahThe question came out of nowhere, sharp and sudden like a needle pricking flesh."Why didn’t you tell me?” Nathan's voice was low, not angry, just heavy. The kind of heavy that sinks into your skin and lingers.I blinked at him, one hand still gripping the edge of the cart I was stocking, the other frozen midair with a sealed tray of fresh produce. I’d been avoiding this moment like the plague, and still, here it was, standing right in front of me, wrapped in designer shoes and tailored sleeves.I looked up slowly. His eyes were already on me, searching for something. Maybe the truth. Maybe an apology. Maybe a way to make this make sense.I took a breath. “You mean why I never told you I was the one married to Ryker?”He didn’t nod, but he didn’t deny it either. His gaze never wavered.I set the tray down gently on the shelf before me, trying to organize the chaos in my head. I didn’t want to start this conversation hunched over, looking like I was trying to hide. I wanted to fa
A FEW HOURS EARLIER Zerah The office was quiet that morning, too quiet. The kind of quiet that should've felt peaceful, comforting even, but instead, it buzzed under my skin like a reminder that something wasn’t right. I tried to focus, I REALLY did. After confronting Ryker earlier this morning, I thought maybe, just maybe, I’d feel some kind of closure, some shift in the strange tension that clung between us like fog. But if anything, it only made things worse. Why was he like this? Why did he act like I belong to him? I opened my laptop, watched it blink to life, then stared at the screen like it held the answer. I clicked through emails mindlessly, archiving, replying, deleting, but I couldn’t concentrate on a single word. My thoughts kept circling back to his voice, rough and possessive, his eyes stormy with something that looked far too much like concern. But that couldn’t be it… right? I shook my head and forced myself to focus. There were invoices that needed approva