Beneath the surface

Later that night, Lily opened her inbox and found a strange email. No subject, no sender name. Just a line:

"Watch your back. You’re playing in a bigger game than you think."

Attached was a P*F: a conversation between Natasha and someone named Jimmy.

Lily’s heart pounded.

Jimmy = Justin Millar!

She skimmed through the messages. It was simple official conversation, but nothing criminal. Still, Natasha and Justin were in touch behind the scenes.

She picked up her phone and texted Nany:

We need to dig deeper. Something’s off.

---

The next morning at the office, William called an emergency team meeting.

“Due to irregularities found in internal audits,” he announced, “an internal investigation will begin starting today.”

Samantha paled.

Everyone else began whispering.

Lily watched Samantha’s expression turn stony.

William’s eyes met Lily’s briefly before he turned away.

She could sense it.

The game had begun.

And this time, she wasn’t the pawn.

She might be the queen.

---

The air in the office turned heavier by the hour. Samantha was pacing back and forth near the copier, throwing subtle glances toward my desk. Ever since the meeting that morning, I had sensed something off — like a storm was about to hit, and she knew she was at the center of it.

I had just returned from a delivery run William had sent me on — an absurd task of handing over files to four different departments on four separate floors. My heels were killing me, my blouse was sticking to my back, and yet William had watched it all from his glass-walled office, sipping his black coffee like a king watching a jester tumble.

He hadn’t said a word since that accidental shoulder brush in the break room, which still played in my mind like a soft whisper.

Back at my desk, I found an envelope. No name on it. Inside — an anonymous copy of Samantha's manipulated performance reports. My heart stilled.

This was it.

"William needs to see this," I murmured, grabbing the files and rushing toward his office. But before I could knock, the door opened — and there he was.

His eyes scanned me, then dropped to the file.

"Something urgent?" he asked, stepping aside.

I hesitated. For a moment, I didn't know whether I was more afraid of his reaction or Samantha’s wrath.

“Yes. It’s about Samantha.”

He took the folder from my hand, flipped through the documents with sharp precision, and went deadly still. The silence stretched for what felt like forever.

Then he calmly placed the folder on his desk and picked up his intercom.

“Call Samantha to my office. Now.”

I backed away, not wanting to be there when it exploded.

Ten minutes later, I saw Samantha storm out of the office, face pale, fury barely contained in her clenched fists. She didn’t even look at me. Instead, she grabbed her purse and walked straight out of the building.

I watched her go — feeling relieved, but also wary. This felt... too quiet.

Back in the office, William appeared beside my desk. His sudden presence startled me.

"Good work today," he said, his voice surprisingly low.

Before I could reply, he added, "Come to the executive lounge. There's something I want you to review."

“Right now?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. I followed.

The executive lounge was empty. Dim lights, city view, leather chairs. I stepped inside, unsure of what we were doing there.

“Relax,” William said, pouring himself a glass of water.

“What are we doing here?”

He walked toward me slowly, stopped just a foot away, and looked directly into my eyes.

"You’ve handled more than you were hired for. I notice these things."

I blinked, unsure of what to say. My lips parted, but the words didn’t come.

He stepped even closer.

"Do you trust me, Lily?"

The question caught me off-guard.

“I— I don’t know,” I admitted, truthfully.

He looked at me like he was studying my soul. Then something shifted — not his eyes, but the air around us. His hand moved — perhaps to reach for something — and in that awkward moment, I turned.

Our shoulders collided, his hand brushed my cheek, and in the awkward stumble, I ended up backed against the edge of the glass table. Our faces were inches apart.

Neither of us moved.

My breath hitched. He didn’t step back.

Instead, his gaze fell to my lips — just for a second — then snapped back up to my eyes.

My heart thundered in my chest.

But before anything could happen, he stepped back, cold as ever. "Get some rest. Big day tomorrow."

And just like that, he walked out of the lounge, leaving me stunned, blushing, and completely lost.