7

Sage’s POV

“No. I was hoping to catch Kael before his day gets busy.” Jade moved closer, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

“We had such a productive meeting Tuesday. I wanted to follow up on a few points.”

“Mr. Thorne isn’t in yet. I can schedule an appointment

“I’ll wait.” She perched on the edge of my desk like she owned it. “We can chat while I do. Girl talk.”

Every instinct I had screamed danger.

“I really should get back to work-”

“This will only take a moment.” Jade leaned in,her voice dropping to something conspiratorial.

“I wanted to warn you. About Kael.”

“Warn me?”

“He’s brilliant. Ruthless. Absolutely magnetic.”

Her ice-blue eyes glittered. “But he’s also… how do I put this delicately? He discards people. Employees, business partners, girlfriends. When he’s finished with you, you’ll be gone without a second thought.” I kept my expression neutral.

“Thank you for the concern.”

“I’m trying to help you, Sage. Woman to woman.” She stood, smoothing her skirt in that way she had-like every movement was calculated.

“The last assistant he showed interest in? She thought she was special too. She was wrong.” The elevator dinged. Kael stepped out, and his eyes went immediately to Jade. The temperature dropped.What are you doing here?” His voice could have cut glass.

“Following up on Tuesday’s meeting.” Jade’s demeanor shifted instantly—all business, all professional. “I had questions about the permit timeline.”

“Email them to my assistant. She’ll forward them to the appropriate department.” He didn’t slow down, heading straight for his office. “Miss Draven. My office. Now.”

I grabbed my tablet and followed, acutely aware of Jade’s stare burning into my back.

Kael closed the door behind us. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing important. Just small talk.”

“Jade Sterling doesn’t do small talk.” He moved to his desk, jaw tight.

“What did she say?”

“That you discard people. That I shouldn’t get comfortable.”

“She’s baiting you.”

“I figured that out.”

He studied me for a long moment. “Jade and I were engaged. Three years ago. It ended badly.”

That explained a lot. “She wants you back.”

“She wants what I represent. Power. Status. Access.” He sat down, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked tired. “She doesn’t want me. She wants the idea of me.”

“And Vanessa?”

“I wanted the same thing. They always do.” His eyes met mine. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Should it be?”

“No.” Something shifted in his expression.

“You’re different.”

Before I could ask what that meant, his phone rang.

He answered it, switching immediately into business mode.

I quietly left his office, my heart doing complicated things in my chest.

Back at my desk, I tried to focus on the Meridian report. But my mind kept circling back to Jade’s words.

He discards people.

Was I just another temporary fixture in his life?

Another assistant who’d be gone in a few weeks?

You’re carrying his baby, the small voice in my head reminded me. That’s not temporary.

But he didn’t know that. And when he found out…

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:

*You’re playing a dangerous game. -J*

Jade. She’d gotten my number somehow.

I deleted it and tried to focus on work.

Thursday, 11:00 AM

Margaret appeared at my desk with a folder.

“Lunch plans?”

“I was just going to grab something from downstairs.”

“Cancel that. We’re going out.” She glanced at Kael’s closed office door.

“He’s got back-to-back conference calls until two. You have time.”

Thirty minutes later, we were seated in a quiet café three blocks from Thorne Tower. Margaret had ordered us both ginger tea and sandwiches.

“Okay,” she said once the waiter left. “Talk to me.How are you really doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sage.”

I sighed. “I’m terrified. Jade Sterling and Vanessa Blackwood hate me.

Kael’s grandmother wants me at formal dinner. I’m barely keeping down food. And I still haven’t told him I’m pregnant.”

“You need to tell him before Sunday.”

“What if he fires me?”

“He won’t.”

“You keep saying that, but-”

‘Sage” Margaret leaned forward.

“I’ve worked for Kael Thorne for ten years. I’ve seen him with dozens of assistants, business partners, women who wanted to date him. I’ve never seen him act the way he acts with you.”

“He barely talks to me except to give me work.”

“He defends you. To Jade. To Vanessa. To his grandmother.” Margaret took a sip of her tea.

“This morning, when Jade showed up? The old Kael would have handled it himself and sent you away. Instead, he kept you there. He wanted you to hear what he said to her.”

I thought about that. About how he’d turned to me immediately, brought me into his office.

“He’s protecting you,” Margaret continued.

“Which means he cares. Even if he doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Or he just wants a competent assistant.”

“If that’s all he wanted, he wouldn’t have spent weeks searching for you after your one night together.”

Fair point.

“What if telling him ruins everything?” I asked quietly.

“What if he thinks I got pregnant on purpose? To trap him?”

“Did you?”

“Of course not! It was one night. We used protection

-it just… failed.”

“Then tell him that.” Margaret squeezed my hand.

“He’s not the kind of man who runs from responsibility. And from what you’ve told me, he’s already halfway in love with you.”

“He’s not-”

“Sage. He bakes muffins at three in the morning because he can’t stop thinking about you.” I blinked.

“How do you know about the muffins?”

“Marcus told me. Apparently Kael showed up to work last week with forty-seven muffins and handed them out to the entire executive floor.”

Despite everything, laughed.

“Tell him,” Margaret said again. “This weekend. Before Sunday dinner. Give him time to process before he has to face his grandmother.”

“What if-”

“No more what-ifs. Just tell him.”

Friday Afternoon

I finished the Meridian report at 4:47 PM- thirteen minutes before my five o’clock deadline. Twenty pages of comprehensive analysis, all cross-referenced and fact-checked.

I printed it, stapled it, and carried it to Kael’s office like 1 was handling explosives.

He was on the phone again—always on the phone but he gestured for me to enter.

I set the report on his desk and turned to leave.

He held up one finger. Wait.

I waited, trying not to fidget, while he finished

his call in what sounded like French.

Finally, he hung up and picked up my report.

He read the first page. Then the second. Then he flipped to the executive summary at the end.

The silence stretched.

“This is excellent work,” he said finally.

Pride bloomed in my chest. “Thank you.”

“You found three weaknesses I hadn’t considered.

And this analysis of their leadership structure…”

He looked up at me. “How long did this take you?”

“Most of the week. Between other tasks.”

“Most people would have needed twice that long.” He set the report down carefully. “You have good instincts, Miss Draven.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Stop calling me sir. It makes me feel old.” He leaned back in his chair. “Kael is fine. When we’re alone.”

My heart did a weird flip. “Kael.”

“Better.” He stood, moving to the window. “I have a question for you.”

“Okay.”

“Sunday dinner. My grandmother will ask you personal questions. About your family, your background, your intentions.” He turned to face me;

“What will you tell her?”

“The truth?”

“Which is?”

”That I’m your assistant. That I’m good at my job. That I have no pack affiliations.” hesitated. “Is there something specific you want me to say?”

“No. I just wanted to prepare you.” He moved closer, and suddenly the office felt very small.

“My grandmother has certain… expectations. About the kind of woman I should mate with.”

“And I don’t meet them.”

“You exceed them. That’s the problem.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Never mind.” He stepped back, putting professional distance between us again. “Go home. Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

“Kael-”

“That’s all, Miss Draven.” He left, my head spinning.

You exceed them.

What did that mean?

Saturday Morning

I stood outside the boutique on Fifth Avenue, staring at the window display. The cheapest dress visible had a price tag that made my stomach hurt.

This was a terrible idea.

But Kael had texted me the boutique’s name with a simple message: *Tell them you’re my guest. They’re expecting you.*

I pushed open the door.

A woman in her fifties approached immediately, smiling warmly. “You must be Miss Draven. Mr. Thorne called ahead. I’m Claire.”

”Hi. I just need something simple. For dinner.”

“Formal dinner with Mrs. Thorne, yes. I have several options prepared.” She gestured toward the back.

“This way.”

An hour later, I was standing in front of a mirror, wearing a midnight blue dress that fit like it had been made for me. Simple, elegant, with sleeves that would hide my arms if I got nervous.

“Perfect,” Claire said. “Sophisticated but not trying too hard. Mrs. Thorne will approve.”

“How much-”

“It’s already handled. Mr. Thorne’s account.” She pulled out a box. “And these shoes. Trust me.”

The shoes were beautiful. Understated heels that would make me tall enough to almost reach Kael’s shoulder.

“I can’t accept all this.”

“You can, and you will. Mr. Thorne was very clear.” Claire smiled. “Between you and me? In ten years of dressing his dates, he’s never called ahead personally. Usually his assistant handles it.”

“I am his assistant.”

“Exactly.” Her smile turned knowing. “Which makes this very interesting.”

I left the boutique with the dress, shoes, and a growing sense of dread.

Tomorrow night. Dinner with Kael’s grandmother. While hiding a pregnancy.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

My phone buzzed. A text from Kael: Did the boutique take care of you?

Yes. Thank you.

Good. I’ll pick you up at 6:30 tomorrow. Text me your address.

I stared at that message for a long moment.

Then I texted Margaret: I’m going to tell him. Tomorrow. Before dinner.

Her response was immediate: Good. You’ve got this.

I hoped she was right.