Invisible

Elowen POV.

Monday mornings always started the same way.

Six AM, standing in front of my bathroom mirror, transforming myself into someone forgettable.

The brown wig went on first, covering every strand of red hair and pinned so tight it gave me headaches by noon, then the oversized gray blazer that swallowed my curves and made me look shapeless. No makeup except concealer for the dark circles under my eyes. Black-framed glasses I didn't need but wore anyway because they made me look plainer.

Elowen Roberts, assistant to the executive secretary at Aurelian Group.

Invisible by design.

The subway ride downtown was packed with people who actually slept the night before. I'd been awake since three AM, replaying the call from the unknown number.

"Nice flowers."

They'd been watching me at the cemetery.

My hands shook as I swiped my employee badge at Aurelian's main entrance, the security guard didn't look up. Nobody ever looked at me here.

My desk sat in the corner near the elevators, a small cramped space with a computer older than my student debt and a view of the copy room. Vivienne Sterling's office door stood open across from me, her elegant workspace twice the size of my entire apartment.

She was already there, of course. Vivienne was always early.

"Good morning, Elowen." She looked up from her screen with that kind smile she always had. Thirty-five, perfectly put together in a cream blouse and tailored pants, dark hair swept into a professional bun. "Could you grab me a coffee? And one for yourself. You look exhausted."

"I'm fine." The lie came automatically. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Mm." She didn't believe me but didn't push. "Coffee anyway, then I'll need you to organize the Henderson files, because Mr. Bodeen has a meeting at nine."

Mr. Bodeen.

My stomach twisted just hearing his name.

I fetched the coffee from the break room, answered three phone calls about scheduling conflicts, organized files that would've made more sense if anyone had bothered to label them properly four years ago when I started.

This was my life. Phones, files and coffee runs, and nobody noticing I existed.

Except Friday nights.

Friday nights, Nicholas Bodeen noticed me plenty.

"Elowen?" Vivienne's voice pulled me back. She stood in her doorway holding a thick folder. "I need you to run these contracts to Mr. Bodeen. He's expecting them."

My hands shook taking the folder.

His office took up the entire corner of the building. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, everything sleek and powerful and untouchable.

Just like him.

He was on the phone when I knocked. He waved me in without looking up. I stepped inside, my heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it. Crossed the massive space to his desk, and set the contracts down carefully.

"Yes, I understand the timeline." His voice was sharp, commanding. "But we're not moving forward without environmental clearance. I don't care what the projected loss is."

He reached for the contracts while still talking, signed three places without reading them, slid the folder back toward me. His eyes never left his computer screen.

I stood there for a moment, frozen. Waiting for... what? Recognition? My phone buzzed in my blazer pocket. I silenced it quickly. 

He didn't notice.

I backed toward the door, clutching the signed contracts like they were proof I'd survived the encounter.

Back at my desk, I checked the missed call.

Loan servicer. Of course.

The voicemail made my blood run cold.

"Ms. Roberts, this is Cornerstone Financial Services regarding account number ending in 4782. Your payment of twenty-five thousand dollars is due tomorrow by five PM. Failure to submit payment will result in your account being transferred to our collections department, but trust me, you don’t want that . Please call us back immediately to arrange payment."

Twenty-five thousand dollars.

Tomorrow.

I did the math in my head for the thousandth time. Nocturne paid eight thousand last week and my salary here was thirty-two hundred a month, paid biweekly, and I'd just gotten paid last Thursday.

Sixteen hundred in my account.

Eight thousand from Nocturne.

Ninety-six hundred total.

I was short by fifteen thousand, four hundred dollars.

The walls of my tiny corner felt like they were closing in.

"Elowen?"

I looked up. Vivienne stood by my desk, her expression concerned.

"Everything alright, dear?"

"Fine," Another lie. "Just tired."

She perched on the edge of my desk, something she did when she wanted to talk instead of delegate. "You know, you've worked here four years. Same position the whole time."

I didn't know where she was going with this. "Yes?"

"You're very competent, and you never make mistakes," She paused. "But you blend into the background, sometimes you need to be seen to move up in a place like this."

How could I explain that I needed to blend in? That being seen would destroy everything? "I like it here," I said quietly.

She squeezed my shoulder gently. "I just think you're capable of more."

The afternoon crawled by, filled with Phones, files, coffee runs, and emails that could've been two sentences stretched into three paragraphs. He never glanced at me. Not once.

I could've been a plant or a chair, and I watched him every time. The way he moved with that confident stride, the way people straightened when he passed, seeking his approval with their eyes.

Friday night, this man had kissed me like I was oxygen and he was drowning.

Today, I was furniture.

At five PM, Vivienne called me into her office and closed the door.

My stomach dropped, because getting called into closed-door meetings was never good.

"I need to tell you something," she said, her expression serious. "But this stays between us."

I sat in the chair across from her desk, my hands clenched in my lap.

She took a breath, and I saw something I'd never seen before, tears in her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. "Congratulations?"

"It's high-risk." She wiped at her eyes quickly. "My doctor says... I might need to go on bed rest soon, maybe as early as next week."

The implications slammed into me like a truck.

If Vivienne left, who became Nick's secretary?

I was the only assistant who knew the systems, who knew his schedule, who'd been here long enough to understand how everything worked.

No. No.

"If that happens," Vivienne continued, watching my face, "I'm recommending you as my replacement."

The room spun.

Work directly for Nick? See him every day, all day? Take his calls, manage his calendar, sit outside his office where he'd actually have to look at me.

"I haven't told anyone yet. Not even Mr. Bodeen. But I wanted you to..."

The office door flew open.

Nick stood in the doorway, his hand clenched, staring directly at me.

And his eyes were blazing with anger.