Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Olivia had finished the files Ethan had assigned to her in record time.

It hadn’t been easy — she had spent the entire night reviewing, checking, and rewriting every single line.

And when the morning sun rose, she was already done, two full hours ahead of schedule.

She walked into his office with hesitant steps, carrying the small bag that held the reports.

He was sitting behind his glass desk, flipping through some papers with meticulous focus — as if nothing outside those pages mattered.

She knocked lightly. He lifted his gaze toward her without saying a word.

She simply said, her tone steady and confident:

> “I’ve finished the reports, sir.”

He reached out slowly, taking the files from her without even glancing at them. Then, in a low, detached voice:

> “That fast?”

“I went over them more than once. Double-checked all the numbers,” she said.

He stayed silent for a moment before replying in a tone so cold it could cut through air:

> “Speed doesn’t impress me, Miss Olivia. Accuracy does.”

She shifted slightly, her voice soft but defensive:

> “I know. That’s why I reviewed every line myself.”

He said nothing. Just opened the folder and started flipping through the pages.

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, the air growing heavier by the second.

Finally, he muttered without looking up:

> “The files are fine. Good.”

She almost smiled — until his next words snuffed out every trace of relief.

> “I want you in the server room now. There’s an urgent update to the archive system. You’ll handle it yourself.”

She blinked, surprised.

> “Right now?”

“Do you have other plans?” he asked flatly.

She shook her head quickly.

> “No, of course not.”

He gathered his papers neatly, speaking in that calm but commanding tone:

> “Get the access clearance from IT. And no mistakes. Not after what happened last time.”

That reference to the previous deletion incident hit her like a quiet sting to the chest.

Still, she nodded silently and left.

---

In the server room, the air was cold enough to make her shiver.

Rows of machines blinked with red and green lights, the soft hum of fans filling the space.

Olivia sat before the large monitor, her fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard —

but her mind was elsewhere.

She couldn’t shake his voice from her head — that calm tone, like ice cracking slowly.

She whispered to herself as the update bar crept forward:

> “So damn cold… how can someone talk like that and still sound human?”

But she kept working quietly until she reached the final step.

Then, suddenly, a red light blinked in the corner of the screen — a small but worrying alert.

She frowned, leaned closer, and muttered:

> “Weird… that shouldn’t be showing up now.”

Before she could stand, the door opened slowly.

Ethan walked in, his steps firm, one hand in his pocket, face unreadable.

She froze for a second, then spoke carefully:

> “I was just about to finish, sir.”

He didn’t answer right away. He walked toward one of the servers, eyes scanning the flashing indicators.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but cutting:

> “I was told there’s a minor system glitch. Tell me — are you the cause this time too?”

Heat rose to her cheeks despite the cold air.

> “No, of course not. It’s an internal alert, not from the update.”

He came closer, leaning over her shoulder to watch the screen.

He was so near she could feel his breath against her neck,

but she didn’t dare turn around.

> “Explain what’s happening,” he said quietly, his tone unnervingly calm.

She pointed to the diagram on the screen, trying to sound composed:

> “It’s a temporary warning. It happens when one of the sub-paths in the main archive changes.

It’ll clear up in a few minutes.”

He said nothing, eyes fixed on the display.

Then suddenly, a louder alarm rang out, and one of the machines in the corner started flashing red.

Olivia rushed over, searching for the faulty cable.

She knew one wrong touch could restart the entire problem.

She bent down, checking each wire carefully —

but one cable was slightly exposed.

She didn’t notice — or maybe she did, just a second too late.

She reached for it instinctively, and a sharp crack sounded — a small burst of static.

She gasped, stumbling backward.

Before she could fall, Ethan caught her —

his hand gripping her arm, pulling her sharply toward him until she collided with his chest.

---

Time froze.

The hum of machines faded. The cold vanished.

All that remained was the sudden closeness — unexpected, disorienting.

Her breathing quickened; her hands trembled slightly against him.

He stayed perfectly still, arms still around her in a reflexive act of protection.

But when his eyes met hers, they weren’t as harsh as usual.

Still cold — but there was something else in them. Something she couldn’t name.

Seconds passed before he finally spoke, his voice low, almost steadying himself:

> “Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly, speechless.

He glanced at her trembling hand, then released her gently, stepping back.

Adjusting his sleeves, he said in his usual composed tone:

> “I told you before — don’t touch anything without checking first.”

Her gaze fell to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper:

> “I thought I could fix it.”

> “That thought almost cost us the entire system,” he replied coldly.

He paused, then added — softer, but still without warmth:

> “Leave the room. I’ll take it from here.”

She looked at him, as if she wanted to say something — but didn’t.

She turned and walked slowly to the door.

Just as she reached it, his voice stopped her.

> “Olivia.”

She froze, waiting.

He didn’t turn to look at her.

> “Next time… remember that your life matters more than any file.”

She didn’t answer.

But when she stepped out and closed the door behind her,

she realized that a few simple words — from a man like Ethan —

could mean more than they seemed.

Walking down the long hallway toward her office,

she touched her arm, still feeling the faint imprint of his hand.

A quiet smile curved her lips as she whispered to herself:

> “Cold… yeah. But not as much as he wants me to think.”