Her hand landed on mine — a weak, almost polite attempt to stop me.Ridiculous. I didn't stop. Just pulled her into the elevator, and the doors slid shut behind us.
She froze, like she'd lost track of where she was.— You... you... — The words wouldn't come. Her brain clearly couldn't process what was happening.
Another one, I thought. Another one bored without drama. They love this — stirring up dust over nothing, turning every minute into a show. Pouting, snapping, throwing words like knives. Only this time, there was nothing to throw. Not even a proper fight.
— What did you say to him? — Her voice suddenly sharpened. — He canceled lunch with me.
There was a tone of superiority in her voice, like she was above me. Like I was some mistake that forgot its place. Childish.
— Ask him yourself, — I said.
The elevator stopped. I walked out without looking back.
I heard her heels behind me — quick, irritated steps — and her voice, shrill and nagging, chasing me like static. I didn't even try to make out the words. Let her yell into nothing.
There was a man standing by the office — tall, composed, early thirties, light hair, thin-rimmed glasses. A stack of papers in his hands. He looked at me with no reaction.
— You're Mireille? — he asked. His voice was calm, soft, almost lazy.
Typical introvert. The silent type. That voice could lull someone to sleep — or drive them mad. Depends on what's going on in your head.
And that's when she arrived — The Blonde. Loud, dramatic, screeching like a shopping mall fire alarm.
— Ostin, who is this nobody?! — she nearly snapped. Her voice was like glass on metal. Sharp, grating, unbearable.
— Liana. You should focus on your work, — Ostin replied in the same calm, smooth tone.
I could've listened to him for hours. His voice felt like background noise in a meditation app — minus the crystals and breathing nonsense.
Liana looked me over like I was a stain she couldn't clean.
— No one ignores me here. She's either new, or... — She narrowed her eyes. — No. You're kidding. Teron's new slut?
I was ready for anything. Except that. Seriously?
I rubbed my temples. Her voice wasn't sound — it was static. Like interference from a busted radio. And the headache came with it.
Ostin seemed to notice I was one second away from slamming the door on her and calmly said:
— Liana, go back to your desk. Maybe focus on landing Travis as your next model.
A soft jab. But sharp. A reminder of her place. Of what she should be doing.
— Don't worry, — she smirked with fake lightness. — He's already wrapped around my finger.
Then, remembering her ego still needed a win, she jabbed a finger toward me.
— But who is she?
Ostin didn't move a muscle.
— Ask Mr. Teron.
— You two look alike, — she said with venom. — What, another legal mouse?
She smirked. Lips twitching.
— God, doesn't Teron get tired of flipping through them like cheap playing cards? She looks just as replaceable. Just another waste of time.
She stepped closer. Too close. Her eyes gleamed.
— Don't think you're special. Just because he personally called you in.
Her voice had that finality — like reading a sentence.
— Teron likes smart and capable women. But they burn out fast. Money, attention, that fake sense of importance. And then — out.
She glanced at Ostin.
— I bet she'll sell him out the minute someone offers more.
She flipped her hair like that sealed her point and walked off, down the corridor without looking back.
Sell him out.The words stuck. Sharp like hooks.
Teron's distrust wasn't just habit. It was earned.
I never thought "special" applied to me. No. It all looked different now. Teron just wanted to use me. Cheap. Efficient. No strings.He calculated me like an asset. No emotion. No interest. Just logic.
I walked into the office. Left the door open. Ostin followed me in.
He shut it behind him, glanced around, then looked at me.No words. No judgment. Just one quiet glance — like checking off a box.
— Don't take her seriously, — he said in that same tone. — She's Teron's ex. And the head of marketing.
I raised an eyebrow.
— So... did she become the marketing head before or after becoming his lover?
He almost smiled. Or maybe just a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
— Hmm. Good question.— She started in marketing. Then came... everything else.
— Judging by her monologue, your boss sleeps with everyone he hires.
I wasn't being catty. I just needed to know what I was dealing with. Who plays by what rules.
— No, — Ostin tilted his head slightly, like he was surprised to have to say it. — Liana was the exception. After that, Teron set a hard rule. No relationships inside the company. None. It ends badly — as you've seen.
— Thanks. That's enough.
I didn't care about the details. No office fights. No breakup drama in the boardroom.I just needed to know he didn't do this regularly.
— So that leaves Liana and her impulsiveness. I'll figure out how to avoid her, — I said and nodded toward his folders. — Got something for me?
He laid a thick folder on the desk.
— We don't have reliable people in every department. And we can't track everything. Teron's first assignment — audit the supply purchases for this building.
I opened the top. Budgets. Tables. Financial flows.
— I'll send you the full data after lunch. This is just the basics — departments, supplies, funds. Find out whether the budget was used properly… or if someone's been bleeding it on the side.
That I could do. Gray zones, subtle fraud, loopholes — my favorite kind of task.
— And second, — he said, placing a thinner file next to it. — We've got hotels, restaurants, real estate in the group. Teron's now interested in acquiring a jewelry company. No one knows why.
I flipped through. Logo. Background. A few rejections.
— The owner's refusing to sign. Teron wants you to create a version of the contract on your own. No brief. No instructions. Just the outcome he wants.
Now that was something I could work with. When the client knows what they want — it's easy. But when you have to guess first — that's not law. That's strategy.
— Anything I should know about the company?
— No, — Ostin replied. He moved toward the door, but paused.— We'll need to assign you an official title. Probably finance department.— The salary Teron offered... it'll be hard to keep quiet.
He left. I stayed.
Then I remembered the note he handed me.Pulled it from my pocket.
Five zeros. Yearly.
Way more than expected. More than average New York lawyers get. By far.
Sellout…Liana's voice echoed in my head. Ugly. Accurate?
Was this just strategic? Or… too direct?
Did he really think I could be bought?Or was he just afraid someone else might try?
A knock cut through the thought.I didn't even get to answer.
He burst in.
Eidan.No greetings. No fake charm.He smelled like trouble — sweat, tension, someone else's perfume on his collar.
Eyes locked on me. Sharp. Angry.
Seriously?
He slammed the door shut behind him.
Was I ever going to get through the day without someone turning my office into a soap Drama?