Todos los capítulos de Losing Ryker: The Billionaire's Second Chance : Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Zerah The room was still, save for the soft, methodical sound of pages flipping under my fingers. I’d gotten into a rhythm, reviewing, noting, flipping. My pen hovered above the corner of a printed chart, my eyes narrowing. Something was off. The figures looked right at a glance, but the formatting didn’t match. It wasn’t major, just... odd. A discrepancy that sat at the edge of understanding. I let out a quiet sigh through my nose and pouted slightly, pressing my lips together the way I often did when trying to solve a puzzle. I circled the number with a neat loop and added a small question mark beside it before turning the page. The light overhead was cool white, casting soft reflections across the glossy surface of the table. The air inside the office had a slight chill to it, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough that I had to occasionally rub my palms together just to keep the edge off. A faint scent of lemon polish clung to the air from the morning’s cleaning, mixed

Zerah Silence settled again, but now it felt heavy, combustible. I forced myself to stand straighter, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My throat tightened; I could feel the rapid flutter of my pulse at my collarbone. “Miss Mikealson,” Ryker began, voice low and controlled, each word enunciated as if he were chiseling it from marble, “are you competent enough to even be in this room?” His tone was quiet but icy, there were no cracks of hesitation, no questions in his voice. Instead, it was a decree. My lips parted and closed. I tried to find words. My diaphragm seized. The sound I managed came out as a stuttered, “I—I’m not late, sir. Nathan instructed—” Ryker’s lips curled, and he turned his head slightly, addressing the entire board as if reading from a script. “She can’t even speak straight,” he said, voice raised just enough for the dozen or so seated members to hear,.though it remained barely above a whisper, so chilling that it echoed through the room.

ZerahI wiped at my face with the back of my hand, but the tears kept falling like they had a will of their own. My body was still shaking from earlier, my breath catching in short, broken rhythms that I couldn’t control no matter how many times I inhaled deeply.Ryker hadn’t moved from where he stood, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable, like always.“Where are they?” he asked again, voice firm but not loud. “The files. The ones you were working on that made you late.”I blinked through the blur in my vision and looked at him. He said it like I owed him an explanation. Like I was some intern who’d forgotten to staple a report.“I already told you,” I muttered, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “I emailed them this morning.”“I didn’t ask if you emailed them in,” he snapped, taking a slow step toward me. “I asked to see what you’ve been working on. The physical documentation. Everything.”“Why?” I croaked. My voice cracked, but I didn’t care anymore. “What differenc

Zerah “Come on, open the door.” The voice was soft but firm, muffled only slightly by the thin barrier between us. I curled deeper into the corner of the stall, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees. I didn’t want to answer. I couldn’t. My breath still came in broken sobs, hiccupping past my lips even as I tried to hold it in. My eyes were swollen, my cheeks wet. I pressed the sleeve of my jacket against them, but it was useless. “I’m fine,” I managed to croak, though the rasp in my voice betrayed me. There was a pause. Then, again, gentler this time. “No, you’re not. Just let me in, yeah?” I flinched at the kindness in her tone. That made it worse, somehow. People could be cruel, but kindness? Kindness had a way of splitting you open. “Please,” I said, not even sure what I was pleading for. “Just go away.” Another pause. A shift of feet. Then the click of nails tapping lightly against the door. “I’ll wait,” the woman said. “I’m not leaving. I’ve been where you are right n

Zerah Elena’s hand was still in mine, though her grip had slackened. She wasn’t looking at me anymore. Her gaze was somewhere behind me, on the beige bathroom tiles, or maybe beyond them, somewhere distant. “You want to know how I got the job at Kane’s Group?” she asked suddenly, voice brittle. I nodded slowly. “If you want to tell me.” “I do,” she whispered. “I think I finally do.” She let go of my hand and leaned back against the tiled wall, arms crossed, like she needed something to hold her upright. “It was three years ago,” she began. “I was broke. Like, sleeping-on-a-friend’s-couch, counting-pennies-for-bus-fare broke. I had a degree in administration, a résumé full of unpaid internships, and not a single company wanted to hire someone who hadn’t already had experience. The usual story.” I stayed quiet, watching the way her jaw tensed as she spoke. “Then one day, I got this call. It was from someone at Kane’s Group. They’d seen my résumé online. They needed a junior secr