The Unspoken Game

Chapter 2

The city continued its course beyond the glass window: indifferent, automatic, perfect in its chaos. From the top of the skyscraper, Benjamin Carter watched it with his arms crossed behind his back, his brow slightly furrowed, and his mind too occupied to pause on the view.

Behind him, the screen of his computer displayed financial reports and projections for the next quarter. Everything was in order. Cold. Logical. Just the way he liked it.

The memory of Anne had been an accident. An emotional slip, nothing more. Emma Moore was not her. He had repeated this to himself several times. There were similarities, yes: the way she walked, that almost shy gesture when she lowered her gaze just before speaking. But she wasn’t Anne. That chapter had been closed four years ago, and he wasn't about to open it again over a mere coincidence.

When he heard the door open, he didn’t turn around.

“Do you have a minute?” Lucas asked, his voice as firm as always, professional.

Benjamin didn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“Do what you need to do, Lucas. I trust your judgment.”

The phrase left no room for debate. Lucas understood instantly. He closed the door without another word, knowing his boss was once again in "armored mode." That state where neither emotions nor memories could break through. Benjamin was back to being that precise, almost inhuman man capable of making decisions others avoided. It was the only way he had built an empire. The only way he had survived Anne.

On another floor, the sound of heels on marble broke the silence of the hallway. Emma moved forward with a folder under her arm, her gaze straight ahead, her expression unshaken.

She entered the executive room with a measured step. Inside, several figures were talking among themselves, surrounded by papers and coffee cups. One of them, seated at the back, turned his head toward her by reflex.

The impact was instant.

Alfredo Díaz.

His stomach tightened, but it didn’t show. Just a slight tension in his jaw. A breath that slowed, that became more contained.

He remembered him well. Alfredo had been at his house many times, laughing with his father, toasting with empty promises. He had been part of those deals sealed between glasses of wine and handshakes disguised as loyalty. And when the Walkers began to lose ground, he was one of the first to disappear.

“Thank you,” Alfredo murmured, receiving the documents without looking at her.

“At your service,” Emma replied, her voice firm, masking the tremor building inside her.

She exited without haste, without altering her rhythm. No one noticed the flicker of rage in her eyes. No one sensed the wound she had just reopened.

Minutes later, Benjamin was heading to the same meeting. She caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, followed his movements for a couple of seconds... then returned to her own work.

The next morning, an unexpected notification appeared in the presidency inbox: M&S Global, one of the most important contracts for Carter Group, had abruptly canceled their agreement. No prior warning. No explanations.

Benjamin read it in his office, motionless for a moment, running his eyes over the words with distrust. He furrowed his brow and, without wasting time, dialed his partner’s number.

“Lucas. What happened with M&S?”

Minutes later, Lucas entered the room, still holding the phone.

“I tried to reach Jensen. No answer. They just sent us the notice,” he said, trying to hide the discomfort in his voice.

Benjamin went over the email again and again, as though between the lines there could be a clue, a reason. But there was nothing. The decision seemed personal, though no one said it aloud. It was a multi-million-dollar loss. The kind that doesn’t make noise when it arrives but leaves a deep scar.

The impact was clear. M&S wasn’t just any client. It was one of the most critical alliances of the quarter. Everything had been set: agreements signed, terms negotiated. And now, suddenly, everything was collapsing with a cold, dry message. The feeling of lost control surrounded him.

Lucas stood silently as Benjamin processed the news, searching for answers he couldn’t find. The air in the office grew heavier, filled with uncertainty.

With a gesture, Benjamin dismissed Lucas, who quickly left the office, aimless. His face was tense, lips pressed together, as if the news had thrown him off. He didn’t understand the cancellation. Something didn’t add up, but he couldn’t explain it. He walked through the central hallway, avoiding a couple of assistants who didn’t even notice his hurry. Suddenly, his gaze met Emma’s.

She was seated at her desk, her head slightly bent over a report. Her brow barely furrowed, a pen between her fingers, as if she were deep in thought or in some profound analysis. The natural light coming through the windows illuminated her face, casting an aura of calm that contrasted with the chaos dominating the rest of the office.

When Lucas walked by, Emma lifted her gaze for a moment, as if she already knew he was coming. No words were exchanged, but something in that brief exchange of glances made Lucas stop, more out of instinct than intent.

He approached with a folder in hand and placed it on her desk with a sharp thud. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either.

“These reports should’ve been circulating by now,” he said, his tone firm, as if giving an order.

Emma looked up, as serene as always, as though she had been expecting the intervention. Her expression was neutral, but there was something in her calmness that unsettled him.

“They were ready. I just needed to attach the supporting documentation,” she replied in a controlled voice.

Lucas stared at her for a moment longer than necessary. There was something unnerving about her calmness, how she didn’t seem to be affected by the pressure of the moment. Everything about her was precise, measured. And though he didn’t say it aloud, Lucas felt that her authority wasn’t as unquestionable as he thought.

“Review them again,” he said finally, as if he needed to convey an urgency he didn’t fully understand. “We can’t afford any mistakes this week.”

Emma gave a slight nod, a barely perceptible tilt of her head.

“Understood.”

Her response, so controlled, only increased Lucas’s discomfort. It wasn’t just her tone, or the way she spoke. It was the way she seemed to move through the world, as though she had already solved every challenge long before he even got to it. As if her words were only a formality.

Emma didn’t return his gaze immediately. She lowered her eyes to the folder and began reviewing the papers, without haste, without alteration.

Lucas remained there for a moment, watching her. He felt strange, uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t comprehend. With a sharp turn, he spun on his heels and left the office without another word. His thoughts spiraled in circles, revisiting the same unanswered questions over and over. Why did this woman, who had come to the company as a mere secretary, unsettle him so much? There was something in her attitude, in that cold serenity, that disturbed him.

On the outside, Emma remained unmoved. As if the world could fall apart around her and she would still be there, at her desk, as calm as always. But inside, the tension was palpable. Each look, each word from Lucas seemed like a reminder of the game she was playing. A game in which she controlled everything.

And though Lucas didn’t know it, Emma had anticipated every move long before he did.

Once he had walked away, Emma lifted her gaze and looked at the door he had closed behind him. No one else was near. The hallway, as always, continued its course: distant voices from employees, the sound of heels on marble, the murmur of conversations floating through the air. But inside her, something stirred. It wasn’t a desire for something immediate, but a certainty: the game had just begun.

The M&S situation was just the first move.

The day continued with its relentless pace: people coming and going from offices, calls going back and forth, reports being sent. But there was something different in the air. Something only Emma could sense. The first piece had fallen, and no one, except her, seemed to notice.