(Amira's POV)
When I walked into Vance Global on Monday morning, the air felt different.
Colder. Heavier. Watching.
At first, I thought I was imagining it. But as I made my way through the glass doors and into the bright lobby, I felt it, the glances, the whispers, the sudden silence whenever I passed.
My stomach tightened. Something was wrong.
I smiled nervously at the receptionist, who used to greet me warmly. Today, her eyes darted away.
"Morning," I said softly.
She nodded without meeting my gaze. "Morning, Miss Daniels."
Miss Daniels. Not Amira.
I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 15th floor. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror-like doors—same black pencil skirt, same modest blouse—but somehow, I felt exposed. Like they all saw something I didn't.
When I reached my desk, the whispers grew louder. Two interns were huddled by the coffee machine, speaking in low voices.
"…I swear I saw her leaving his car…"
"…Maybe she's why the boss has been smiling lately…"
"…He doesn't smile."
A laugh. Soft, cruel.
I froze. My fingers tightened around the folder I was holding.
I wanted to shout that they were wrong. That I'd never crossed any line. That I was only doing what I had to do to keep my job, to help my mother. But the words stayed trapped in my throat.
"Amira?"
I turned around. It was Daniel—the kind IT guy who'd helped me set up my login on my first day. His smile was kind but awkward today.
"Hey," I said.
He scratched the back of his neck. "You okay? People are just… talking. Don't take it seriously."
"What are they saying?" I asked, though part of me already knew.
He hesitated. "Just… you and Mr. Vance. That maybe you two are—uh—closer than you should be."
I felt my heart drop. "That's not true."
"I know," he said quickly. "People love to gossip. You're new. You're pretty. And he's—well, him."
I forced a laugh that didn't sound like me. "Right."
Daniel gave me a sympathetic look before walking off. But his words kept echoing in my mind.
Closer than you should be.
I sat down at my desk and tried to focus on my screen, but I could barely breathe. The office, once a place of hope, now felt like a cage. Every glance, every whisper, every click of a keyboard felt like judgment.
Around noon, my phone buzzed.
Leonardo: My office. Now.
Just five words, but my pulse quickened instantly.
When I stepped into his office, he was standing by the window, hands in his pockets, staring out at the city skyline.
"You wanted to see me?" I asked carefully.
He turned around. His eyes swept over me once—sharp, unreadable. "Close the door."
I obeyed. The soft click echoed like thunder.
"There's talk going around," he said.
I swallowed. "I know."
"You don't seem surprised."
"I'm not," I said quietly. "People see me in your car, leaving late. They assume things."
He studied me for a moment, then sighed. "I told you to ignore them."
"That's easy for you to say," I snapped before I could stop myself. "You're Leonardo Vance. No one questions you. But me? I'm just the new girl who suddenly got promoted and now lives in your house. Of course they'll talk."
His jaw tightened. "You care too much about what people think."
"I care about my name," I said softly. "It's all I have left."
For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then he stepped closer. Too close.
"You think this job was a mistake?" he asked.
I met his gaze. "I don't know anymore."
Something flickered in his eyes—anger, maybe hurt—but it was gone too fast.
He walked back to his desk and picked up a folder. "These rumors will die out. People get bored easily."
"And until then?" I asked.
He looked at me, his tone turning colder. "You'll do what you were hired to do. Work. Not explain yourself."
I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears. "You don't understand—"
"Enough, Amira."
The way he said my name made my heart stutter. Firm, but low. Almost… gentle.
He sighed and rubbed his temples. "I didn't mean to shout."
Silence hung between us for a long moment.
Then he said quietly, "If you want to move out, I won't stop you."
I froze. "What?"
"If staying at the mansion is making things harder for you, I'll arrange somewhere else. I didn't bring you here to make your life miserable."
The way he said it—it didn't sound like the cold boss everyone feared. It sounded human. Tired, even.
"I'll think about it," I whispered.
He nodded once. "That's all I ask."
As I turned to leave, he spoke again. "Amira."
I stopped.
His voice softened. "Don't let them break you. You're stronger than that."
For a second, our eyes met. Something unspoken passed between us—something dangerous. Then I left before I could fall any deeper.
That evening, when I got home to the mansion, I found a small envelope on my bed. My name was written in bold handwriting.
Inside was a single card:
"For the days you forget who you are. – L"
And beneath it… a delicate silver bracelet.
My chest tightened. Why would he—?
Before I could think, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown number: Careful, Amira. Sleeping with the boss never ends well.
My blood ran cold.
The message had no name. No clue who sent it. But whoever it was… they knew.
I dropped the phone, my hands shaking. The bracelet glittered under the light—beautiful, but suddenly terrifying.
Somehow, I knew this was only the beginning.