LOGINFREYA'S POV
I saw Silas step off the elevator in one of his good suits, scanning the floor like he owned it, before his eyes landed on me and gave a smug smile. He was here for a meeting.
“Freya.” He said it warm, easy, like the past couple of weeks had never happened. Like I hadn’t watched him stand on a stage and choose someone else in front of two hundred people. Like he hadn"t tried to tie me down, using my mother's condition to his advantage. “I heard you got a job here. I didn’t believe it.”
“I’m working. You should get to your meeting.” I tried to move past him toward the elevator, but he shifted just enough to block my path.
“Come on. Five minutes.” His voice dropped, softened, the tone he used to use on me at two in the morning when he wanted forgiveness he hadn’t earned. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You changed your number.”
“For a reason.”
“Freya.” He reached for my arm and I stepped back before he could close his hand around it, and something flickered across his face. Irritation, gone almost as fast as it appeared. “I’ve been an idiot. You know that. I know that. Catherine was never.....it was never what you think it was. It was family pressure, it was the board, it wasn’t.....”
“It doesn’t matter what it was.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You stood on a stage and told two hundred people I wasn’t good enough to stand beside you. Then you told me backstage I could still keep being useful to you in private. I don’t need you to explain that to me again. I lived it.”
“I was going to fix the hospital payments.” He said it like he was offering me a solution to al my problems. The money would solve a lot of my problems, yes, but i wasn't going to bend. “I still can. One call, Freya. One call and Elena’s bills are covered again, no strings, I swear to you......”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharper than I meant it to, loud enough that a woman two desks down glanced up before pretending not to. I lowered my voice. “Don’t use my mother to get me to stand here and listen to you.”
His jaw tightened. The warmth drained out of his face fast, replaced by something colder and more familiar. The version of Silas that showed up when charm stopped working. “You think Raiden’s going to keep you around out of the goodness of his heart? You think this is some kind of rescue?” He stepped close enough that I had to tip my chin up to hold his eyes. “I know my uncle. He collects things because he can, and he gets bored the second they stop being new. You’ll be back to nothing in three months, and I’ll still be the one who actually loved you.”
“You didn’t love me. You owned me. There’s a difference, and it took you humiliating me in front of your entire family for me to finally see it.”
“Freya...”
“Mr. Ravenscroft is waiting on the fourth floor,” I said, loud enough, not caring who heard it, “for the meeting you’re currently late for.”
For a second I thought he was going to grab my arm again, the way he used to when a conversation wasn’t going the direction he wanted, back when I used to let him. He actually lifted his hand, and I fliched without meaning to.
“Silas.”
The voice came from behind me, low, and absolutely commanding. The kindof quiet that felt more dangerous than shouting ever could. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to.
Raiden was standing maybe ten feet away, a folder under one arm, his expression giving away nothing. I had no idea how long he’d been there, but judging by the stillness in his face and voice, long enough.
Silas’s hand dropped. “Uncle Raiden. I was just...”
“I heard what you were just.” Raiden didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “The meeting started four minutes ago. Garrick’s covering your section for you.”
“I can still make it....”
“You’re done for today.” It wasn’t an argument. It was a verdict, delivered in the same flat tone he delivered everything else, like there was no version of this conversation where Silas got to negotiate. “Send my assistant your notes by end of day if you have anything worth contributing. Otherwise don’t bother coming back up to this floor without an appointment.”
Silas looked defeated and humiliated. His eyes cut to me, one last time, full of fury he didn’t bother to hide anymore, and then he turned and walked back toward the elevators without another word.
I stood there in the sudden quiet, heart still going too fast, waiting for Raiden to say something to me. An acknowledgment, a question, anything.
He didn’t. He looked at me for one long moment, unreadable as ever, and then he said, “Back to work, Ms. Dalton,” and walked past me toward his office like the last ninety seconds hadn’t happened at all.
I stood by the elevators a while longer than I should have, watching his door close, trying to decide whether what I’d just seen was a man protecting territory that had nothing to do with me, or a man protecting me, and hating how much I wanted it to be the second one.
Gossip travels faster on that floor than even official information in Ravenscroft Holdings, and by the time I got back from lunch on Monday, it was clear the whole department already knew I was flying to Meridian with Raiden before I’d even told Talia.Catherine found me by the printers. “I heard you’re going to Meridian.” She said it lightly and conversationally, as if she was talking about the weather, but her eyes were doing that slow, assessing sweep they always did like trying to figure something out. “Two days. Overnight.”“It’s a work trip.” I said, focused on picking my printed sheets fro the tray and not meeting her gaze. I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “There's a staffing review before the renovation sign-off.”“Of course there is.” Her smile didn’t move past her mouth, same as always. “You know, it’s funny. Raiden’s only ever taken one assistant on a property trip in the four years I’ve worked here. Her name was Priya. She lasted about six months after
Raiden’s message came through at four-thirty pm. My phone lit up with three words on my screen; my office, now. His summons used to send a jolt of nerves through me but now, few weeks later, I was feeling something closer to anticipation, which was quite questionable.He didn’t look up when I came in. “Close the door.”I did, and stood in front of his desk with my hands loosely folded, waiting for him to let me know why I was called.“I’m inspecting the Meridian property next week. Staffing logistics, guest services flow, security protocols and all other necessities before the renovation sign-off.” He said, looking at me with an unreadable expression as almost always. “You’re coming with me.”I did not expect that last part.“Me? Not Garrick?”“Garrick’s handling the Whitmore close while I’m gone. I need someone who can take notes and perform the necessary tasks without me having to explain twice.” He paused briefly, almost unnoticeable. “You’ve proven you can do that.”“What day next
FREYA'S POVThe stairwell was the one place on the floor without cameras pointed directly at the door, which I hadn’t paid attention to once, until Silas stepped out of it in front of me on my way down to the mail room, blocking the exit like he’d been waiting there for me.“You’re avoiding me.” He said it flatly, no charm left in it this time, none of the manipulative softmness he’d tried by the elevators. “Every time I come up here you disappear before I can finish a sentence.”“I’m working.” I stepped to the side to go around him. He mirrored my movement, closing the gap I’d tried to create and standing so close enough now that the stairwell felt smaller than it had a second ago.“I heard Raiden had me pulled from the Whitmore account.” His voice had an edge under it I recognized from the worst nights of the last four years. The tone that came right before he said things he was going to regret. “You know how that looks. My own uncle cutting me out because his secretary complained.”
FREYA'S POVIf Raiden Ravenscroft wanted to run tests, I decided somewhere around my fourth week, then he could get used to being tested back.I told myself it wasn’t about the wrist or the way he’d walked me to the elevator like it meant nothing. It was strategy. If proximity to him meant proximity to money, to leverage or whatever version of security I could carve out of this job before Elena’s window closed, then I’d be a fool not to use every advantage I had.I started small. A blouse with one more button undone than strictly professional, nothing anyone could call inappropriate, just enough to make a point. I timed my coffee runs so I’d pass his office when the door was open. I found reasons to bring him things myself instead of leaving them with Garrick, Things like signature that could have waited or a call that could have been routed through the assistant line.He noticed. Of course he noticed. Nothing got past him, which was exactly the point.“You could have emailed this,” h
FREYA'S POVThe report was due at ten. I’d blocked out the morning for it two days in advance, checked the calendar Sunday night before bed to be sure, and walked in Monday assuming I had until ten to finish it.At nine-fifteen, Garrick appeared at my desk holding a printout. “Where’s the Q3 vendor summary.”“It’s not due until ten. I’ve still got.......”“It moved to nine.” He set the printout down in front of me, and there it was, right there on my own calendar, the entry showing the deadline shifted back an hour, with a timestamp from Friday afternoon that I never saw. “Which means it was due fifteen minutes ago, and Whitmore’s people are asking why they don’t have it.”“I never got a notification for the change.”“The system sends one automatically.”“Then it malfunctioned, because I didn’t see it.” My voice came out tighter than I wanted it to, defensive in a way that probably made me sound guiltier than I was. “I can have it finished in twenty minutes, it’s basically done, I jus
FREYA'S POVThe floor cleared out by seven, that particular hush that only happens after everyone else has gone home, settling over the office. I was packing my belongings into my bag, hoping I could still catch the earlier train, when Raiden’s door opened. “Ms. Dalton. A moment.”Not a request. It never was.I walked into his office.“I need eyes on the Whitmore contract before tomorrow’s call,” he said, once I was standing in his doorway. “Garrick’s already gone. It needs to happen tonight.”“Of course.” I set my bag down by the chair across from his desk, already reaching for the tablet I used to take notes, but he was moving around the desk toward me instead of handing it over from a distance the way he usually did, like paper could only be passed at arm’s length.He held the folder out to me directly.I reached for it. His fingers didn’t quite let go when mine closed around the edge, a half-second delay, deliberate or not, long enough that the backs of his fingers grazed my wrist
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