14

The Vale Industries building looked different at seven in the morning. Quieter, the lobby still half-dark, the marble floors reflecting the pale light from the windows. I stood outside for a minute clutching my bag and trying to remember how to breathe, and then I pushed through the revolving doors before I could talk myself out of it.

The receptionist from my interview was already at her desk, and she gave me a tight nod when I said my name.

“Fourteenth floor. Someone will meet you.”

The elevator ride felt longer than it had during the interview, and I used the time to smooth down my uniform and check my reflection in the polished steel doors. The collar was flat, the cuffs were frayed but clean, and my hair was tied tight the way Shane liked it. I looked professional and composed. I looked nothing like the woman who had spent the night before lying awake while her husband listed all the ways this job could ruin their marriage.

The doors opened onto a wide hallway with glass walls and rows of cubicles. A woman with silver-streaked hair was waiting for me. Carla, the head of operations who had interviewed me. She looked me up and down the same way she had last time, and her expression didn’t change.

“You’re early. Good. Mr. Vale doesn’t tolerate lateness.” She handed me a tablet and started walking, her heels clicking against the floor. “Your first task is to familiarize yourself with his schedule. He has back-to-back meetings until noon, and then a strategy session with the legal team. He’ll expect you to take notes and anticipate what he needs before he asks. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“The last PA couldn’t handle the pace. She made mistakes, and Mr. Vale doesn’t forgive mistakes. Don’t make any.”

We stopped in front of a set of glass doors at the end of the hallway. Carla pushed them open without knocking, and I stepped into an office that was all clean lines and cold air and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

The man behind the desk didn’t look up from his papers.

“Mr. Vale, your new assistant is here.”

He raised a hand in acknowledgment, still reading, and Carla gave me a look that said don’t mess this up before she turned and walked out.

I stood in the middle of the office with my tablet clutched against my chest and my heart hammering. The silence stretched for a full ten seconds before he finally set his pen down and looked at me.

He was younger than I’d expected. Early thirties, maybe, with dark hair and sharp features and eyes that missed nothing. He wasn’t handsome in the way the man from the balcony had been handsome. He was handsome in a way that felt dangerous, like he could see right through you and was already filing away what he found.

“You’re Adeline Bennett.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Carla spoke highly of your interview. She doesn’t speak highly of many people.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes moving over me, taking in the frayed cuffs and the careful posture and the scarf I’d retied three times before leaving the house. “The Grand Crescent. VIP floor. Seven months. Why did you leave?”

The question caught me off guard, and I almost told him the truth. Instead, I said, “There was a disruption after the gala. A personal matter. The hotel decided to let me go.”

“A personal matter.” He said it like he was testing the weight of the words. “The Grand Crescent is known for discretion. If they let you go over a personal matter, it must have been significant.”

I didn’t answer, and he didn’t push. He just picked up his pen and gestured toward a smaller desk near the door.

“That’s your workstation. Your first task is to review the merger brief in your tablet and summarize the key points before the legal meeting at ten. Ask questions if you have them. Don’t ask questions you can answer yourself.”

I nodded and walked to my desk, my legs steadier than I expected. The tablet was already loaded with files, and I opened the merger brief and started reading while my new boss went back to his papers.

The office was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional scratch of his pen. The normalcy of it was almost comforting. Work I understood. Spreadsheets and schedules and anticipating needs before they became problems. This was the only part of my life that had ever made sense.

By mid-morning, I had the merger brief summarized and cross-referenced with the supporting documents. I checked the figures twice before saving the file and sending it to Mr. Vale.

He didn’t acknowledge it.

That was fine.

I had expected as much.

The legal team arrived at ten, and I sat in the corner of the conference room taking notes while they debated liability clauses and environmental regulations. Mr. Vale didn’t raise his voice, but his words were sharp enough to cut through the noise. He dismantled arguments with a calm precision that made the lawyers pause, and I watched him work and felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Respect.

This was a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

At lunch, I found the break room and ate a granola bar I’d brought from home. A man with a coffee mug and an easy smile was already there.

“New PA?” he asked.

“First day.”

“Good luck. I’m Michael. Accounting. I’ve been here three years, and I’ve seen four PAs come and go. Vale’s not easy to work for.” He took a sip from his mug. “But you look like you can handle yourself.”

“I’ve handled worse.”

He laughed, and the sound was warm. “I bet you have. If you need anything, my cubicle’s by the window. I’m mostly useless, but I make good coffee.”

A woman with a stack of legal briefs walked in and gave Michael a look.

“Stop harassing the new hire. I’m Lena. Legal. If Michael offers you coffee, take it. It’s the only thing he’s good at.”

“It’s true,” Michael said. “I’m a one-trick pony.”

I laughed, and the sound surprised me. It had been a while since I’d laughed around anyone without forcing it. I didn’t know what that said about my life, but I wasn’t ready to think about it.

The afternoon passed in a blur of more meetings and more notes. By five o’clock, my hand was cramping from writing and my back was sore from sitting in an unfamiliar chair, but the merger summary was done and the legal team had their materials.

Mr. Vale hadn’t fired me yet.

When I knocked on his door to say goodnight, he was on the phone and waved me away without looking up.

I left.

The train ride home was quiet, and I leaned my head against the window and watched the city blur past. The day had been hard, but it had been good. I had been good. I had done my job and done it well, and no one had yelled at me or questioned where I’d been or demanded to know who I was talking to.

For eight hours, I had been just an assistant.

Not a wife.

Not a suspect.

Just a woman who was good at her work.

Shane was on the couch when I got home, and the television was loud and the apartment smelled like beer. He looked up when I walked in, and his eyes did the inventory I’d come to dread.

“You’re late.”

“The train was slow. My shift ended at five.”

“Your shift.” He said it like the word was dirty. “You work for some rich CEO now. You must feel real important.”

“I’m just an assistant, Shane. I fetch coffee and take notes.”

He stood up and crossed the room, and his hand came up and closed around my upper arm. The grip was tight enough to hurt.

“You remember what I told you. You belong to me. Not to some boss in a fancy office. You come home looking like you’ve been smiling at someone else, and we’ll have a problem.”

“I remember.”

He held my gaze for a long moment before letting go and returning to the couch.

“Make dinner. I’m starving.”

I made dinner and ate standing at the counter. When Shane fell asleep in front of the television, I went to the bedroom and closed the door.

My arm was sore where he’d grabbed me, and there would probably be a bruise by morning.

But I had survived my first day at Vale Industries, and I’d done it well.

For tonight, that was enough.