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Chapter 2

Author: Dyana
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-22 09:25:27

By 4pm, she had handled his emails, prepped the meeting packet, and refilled the coffee pods he liked. She had just returned from dropping off the final draft of a contract when she saw a stranger step out of the elevator.

He moved like he owned the building, even though he hadn’t been in the office before but he was older, with silver hair and a gleam in his eye that felt too polished to be harmless.

“Miss Hart?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“Yes?”

“I’m Charles Rourke. Elias’s father.”

That explained the arrogance.

“Ah. Welcome, Mr. Rourke. Would you like me to let him know you’re here?”

He smiled. “No need. I want to see his face unprepared.”

He strolled past her, tapping twice on Elias’s door before pushing it open.

What followed wasn’t a reunion,it was a silent, venomous standoff.

Chloe couldn’t hear what was said, but she saw Elias’s jaw tense and his eyes narrow into dangerous slits.

Ten minutes later, Charles walked out again, nodding politely to her.

“I hope you don’t waste too much time here, Miss Hart. He doesn’t let people stay long.”

And with that, he was gone.

That night, she stayed late. Elias hadn’t said much after his father left, just worked through the afternoon like a man possessed.

By 7:30 p.m., the rest of the floor was empty. Her phone buzzed,a text from an unknown number 

Unknown > Still alive? He gets extra stormy after Charles shows up. Need whiskey? Or earplugs?

Chloe> Who is this?

Unknown > Oh my princess, it's your prince charming.

Chloe > I don't have a prince charming 

Gavin > Ouch, you just hurt my feelings darling. Anyways it Gavin

Chloe > “My apologies Mr King, I didn't know it was you”. She replied 

Gavin > Chloe can you please stop with the formalities, just call me Gavin.

Chloe > I'm sorry Gavin.

Gavin > So are you still in for the drink? Bills on me.

Chloe > Nahhh, I'm fine. He's just quieter than usual.

> Quieter than usual? That’s like saying Antarctica’s “a bit brisk.”*

Before she could reply,a door opened behind her.

She turned.

Elias stood there, coat in hand.

“You’re still here.”

“So are you,” she replied.

They stood facing each other for a long moment. She could feel the tension radiating from him, like static before a storm.

His eyes dropped to her hands. She was still holding the contract folder she hadn’t delivered yet.

“You don’t need to work overtime,” he said flatly.

“I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to go home yet.”

That seemed to catch him off guard.

His gaze searched her face for something. Then, he said, voice like iron again:

“You should learn not to stay where you’re not needed, Miss Hart.”

The words weren’t angry. They were empty. Cold.

But they still hit like a slap.

Her throat tightened. “I see.”

She didn’t wait for him to say anything else.

She turned, gathered her things, and left.

In the elevator, she clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking.

And for the first day starting the job, she questioned why she wanted so badly to stay.

She rushes out of the building, trying to hold back the tears as the hurtful words keep ringing in her head. 

She walks into the streets of Manhattan and stops a taxi to take her home, she gets in the car and gets lost in her thoughts as she tries to hold back her tears, while memories of what he said came rushing back.

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