Chapter 39: Control? Never Heard of It

Tuesday morning in Los Angeles was a little less glamorous than Katherine Brown had imagined. Sure, the sun was shining, the skyline was dazzling, and her oat milk latte had the perfect foam swirl. But today wasn’t about aesthetics — it was about holding her ground.

After Monday’s bombshell welcome speech and the stunned stares from her team when she had introduced herself as the new branch director, today marked her first official full day leading the Los Angeles division. Not the West Coast. Just this branch. And that was more than enough, for now.

She stood before the large floor-to-ceiling windows of her corner office, the city stretching out beneath her like a challenge. Hair tied back, heels slightly lower than yesterday — Katherine wasn’t here to play dress-up. She was here to lead. To prove, once again, that chaos could become clarity. Fire could be focus.

She had barely sat down with her laptop when the messages started flooding in: minor scheduling conflicts, requests for project briefings, and one particularly long email from the ever-so-suspicious Monica Leach about “protocol and executive oversight.” Katherine smirked.

“Good morning, Katherine,” said Sofia, her assistant, peeking in through the glass.

“Morning, Sofia. Ready for another round?”

“More than ready. Coffee?”

“Yes, please. And maybe print out the agenda for this afternoon’s brainstorm session? I want it on every desk. Clean. Organized. Presentable.”

“Got it.”

As Sofia disappeared, Katherine allowed herself a small breath. She could still feel yesterday’s adrenaline coursing through her, but today — she was different. Settled. Steady. A little hungrier for success than she’d been in New York. Maybe it was something in the LA air… or maybe it was the man whose note still sat folded neatly in her drawer.

The man who had sent her a ring photo the night before. The man who made her toes curl just by sending a damn video. The man she was definitely, absolutely not thinking about right now.

She shook her head and opened the first file. Her team expected clarity. Strength. A spark of brilliance with a touch of chaos — the Katherine Brown special. She was going to deliver it all.

Even if she still couldn't stop smiling at the words he'd written the night before: "Soon. Very soon."

---

By the time she walked into the meeting room, most of her LA division was already seated — content, creative, sales, PR. Katherine offered a crisp nod, then took her seat. Monica Leach, with her ever-present red lipstick and power suit, sat near the front with a thick printout titled “Q2 Concerns: Urgency Required.”

The screen flickered to life.

Monica started before anyone even asked. "As you'll see in the attached, we're facing multiple concerns with pipeline efficiency, team fatigue, and —”

Katherine held up a hand, gently. “Let’s pause there. Quick round first — wins since last Friday. I want one from each department.”

A silence.

Then, PR raised their hand. “Our local podcast pitch landed. Interview airs next week.”

Content followed. “Three viral posts in 24 hours.”

Sales. “We got back that brand from Sunset Plaza. Signed the new contract this morning.”

Katherine nodded. “Nice. Let’s not bury momentum under anxiety.”

Monica’s eyes narrowed slightly.

By the time the meeting ended, the mood had shifted. No fake clapping, no fluffy slogans — just actual energy. People left talking. Katherine stayed behind, gathering her things slowly.

“You really don’t play by her rules, do you?” came a voice behind her.

It was Shawn — head of content. He leaned on the doorframe, his sleeves already rolled up.

Katherine grinned. “Was I supposed to?”

He tilted his head. “I think she’s waiting for you to mess up.”

“Oh, I know. But I plan to disappoint her.”

He laughed. “Lunch later? Celebrate not being murdered in your second week?”

“Tempting. But I’ve got a strategy doc to fix first. Rain check?”

“Sure.” He gave a mock salute and left.

Katherine lingered a second longer, looking at the chair she’d just sat in. She didn’t need to be a CEO. She just needed to own this floor. And slowly, she was.

---

Tuesday. 7:19 PM. Katherine’s apartment, Los Angeles.

The city lights outside her window shimmered like restless thoughts. Katherine sat on the couch in her robe, hair loosely twisted up, a half-eaten poke bowl beside her laptop. She had just finished reviewing campaign metrics when her phone buzzed.

SEBASTIAN M.

Her lips curled before she could stop them.

She picked up.

“Good evening, Mr. Mason,” she said smoothly, stretching out her legs and kicking the blanket off. “You don’t usually call during beauty hour.”

A low chuckle. “Is that what it’s called?”

“Well, I call it that. Face masks. Silk robes. Soft jazz. Secret spreadsheets.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“You have no idea.”

There was a pause on the line, the kind that wasn’t awkward — just charged.

Then Sebastian’s voice, calm but deepened: “I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Katherine raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You remember the upcoming evaluation tour. I’m doing visits to a few branch offices. A surprise quality check, if you will.”

Her breath caught, just for a second — not from nerves, but anticipation.

“You’re starting with New York, I assume?”

Another pause. “Not quite.”

She sat up straighter. “Chicago?”

“Not that either.”

Her heart ticked faster. “Don’t tell me you’re beginning with… Los Angeles.”

“I won’t tell you that,” he said — and she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “But let’s just say: keep the coffee hot.”

“You’re not serious.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Just a low hum. Then, “I’ll be flying light. No assistants. No chaos. Just observation.”

“Mm-hm. Observation. Sounds thrilling.”

“Just thought I’d give the local leadership a little warning.”

“Wow. So generous of you.”

“Anything else I should be warned about, Katherine?”

She bit her lip. Hard.

“Yes,” she said. “That I look unreasonably good in corporate black.”

He laughed — a real one this time. Deep. Relaxed. The sound rumbled through the speaker like it had no business being that intimate.

“Duly noted,” he said. “Sleep well, Miss Brown.”

“I’d say the same, but you’ll probably be in the air soon. Try not to miss me.”

“I’ll try.”

The call ended. She sat still for a beat, fingers hovering over the phone.

He was coming.

And he hadn’t said when.

That man was chaos wrapped in control — and tomorrow, he’d be in her building.

---

Wednesday, 8:42 AM. Mason Equity Group LA Branch Office.

The hum of printers, the buzz of elevator doors, the click of polished heels. Everything in the Los Angeles office felt charged — subtly, but unmistakably.

Katherine walked through the open-plan floor with her tablet in hand, dressed in a sharply tailored navy suit that screamed authority. She smiled at the junior team, offered a quick word to IT about the server issue, then paused to scan the room. Something felt… off.

People were unusually quiet.

And glancing toward the far glass hallway as if—

Her gaze followed theirs.

Her breath hitched.

He was already here.

Sleek charcoal suit. No tie. White shirt, two buttons open. Walking next to the regional compliance manager, nodding thoughtfully, hands clasped behind his back like a modern-day emperor surveying his empire.

Sebastian fucking Mason.

He hadn’t said today. He hadn’t said now.

And yet there he was, already inside her branch, making her heart beat like she was back at square one.

Their eyes met through the glass.

It lasted only a second — a glance so loaded, it could’ve ignited paper.

Then, professionalism snapped into place like armor.

Katherine gave him the most neutral, formal nod she could manage.

Sebastian lifted a brow — just barely — before continuing down the hall.

From the side, a voice purred:

“Well, well. Looks like the king decided to check on his kingdom.”

Katherine turned to find Monica Leach, arms folded, a wicked grin on her lips.

“I wonder what he’s looking for,” Monica added sweetly. “Maybe someone finally noticed the circus down here.”

Katherine smiled coolly. “If you’re referring to the circus, I suggest you double-check who’s been juggling tasks all month while others filed their nails.”

Monica’s smile twitched.

But Katherine didn’t wait for a reply — she turned on her heel and strode toward her office.

The rest of the morning was a blur of small meetings and check-ins. Every corner of the building seemed tighter, more on edge. Everyone knew he was here.

But when the 11:00 leadership briefing started in the main conference room, Katherine wasn’t rattled — she was electric.

She opened with clarity, cracked a well-timed joke about the caffeine budget, and delivered a breakdown of the new project rollout with seamless precision.

Sebastian stood at the back of the room, arms crossed, silent.

Watching her.

But not judging — no.

Studying.

Admiring.

When the meeting ended, Katherine didn’t even look at him. She held her composure, thanked the team, and returned to her office like nothing happened.

Only once the door shut behind her did she finally let herself breathe.

Then she saw it.

A small black box on her desk.

No note.

Just the box.

She opened it slowly.

Inside — a pair of custom cufflinks. Gunmetal grey.

One engraved with: “K.B.”

The other: “Keep going.”

Her lips parted, stunned.

But before she could even process the wave rising in her chest, her phone lit up.

Unknown Number.

She frowned. Picked it up.

“…Hello?”

A pause. Then a deep, unfamiliar voice:

“Miss Brown. We need to talk. It’s about Mr. Mason.”

---

Wednesday, 11:57 AM — Katherine’s office.

The phone rang just as Katherine was setting the velvet box down on her desk, still trying to process the morning’s events. She glanced at the caller ID. Unknown number.

She hesitated, then answered.

“Hello?”

A man's voice came through — calm, low, unfamiliar.

“Miss Brown. This call is not being recorded. Please confirm you’re alone.”

She straightened. “Who is this?”

“A friend,” he said. “Let’s just say I don’t want to see you blindsided.”

Katherine walked to the door and closed it slowly, the box still in her hand. Her heartbeat ticked louder.

“I’m listening.”

“You should know Mr. Mason’s surprise visits to the regional branches aren’t entirely random. They’re strategic. He’s been reviewing internal reports, employee feedback… and surveillance footage.”

Her throat tightened. “Surveillance footage?”

“From the LA office. Yours specifically.”

She didn’t say a word.

“There’s talk,” the voice continued. “Board-level speculation. About favoritism. Conflicts of interest. The kind that ruins reputations.”

Katherine clenched her jaw.

“What exactly are you implying?”

A pause.

“I’m saying this: if there’s anything between you and Mr. Mason that isn’t official — end it. Before someone else does it for you.”

The call ended.

Katherine stared at the screen in disbelief. The silence in her office suddenly felt crushing. Slowly, she lowered the phone and looked down at the box — the small, meaningful gift he had left on her desk not even an hour ago. A note. A message. A connection.

And now… a warning.

She sat down slowly, her thoughts spinning.

Who was that voice?

Was it a bluff?

Or had someone been watching her more closely than she realized?

Her fingers hovered over the box.

This morning had started with a gift.

It ended with a threat.

---