(Elara POV)
Elara Moore believed in rules.
Unwritten ones.
The kind you learned by watching, not asking.
At Hale Industries, the most important rule was simple.
Don't be noticed.
The executive floor was already busy when she arrived. Voices low. Shoes polished. People who looked like they belonged.
She adjusted the strap of her old handbag and walked faster.
The elevator doors opened—and the hallway stilled.
Alexander Hale stepped out of his office.
People moved without being told. Someone straightened their posture. Someone else stepped aside.
Elara stopped where she was.
"Ms. Moore."
Her back went straight. "Yes, Mr. Hale?"
"Conference room. You're taking notes."
"Yes, sir."
She followed him, notebook pressed to her chest, careful to stay a step behind. He didn't look back. He never did.
Inside the conference room, Elara took her seat slightly behind him. Out of the way. Safe.
She wrote everything.
Projected revenue.
Expected growth.
A confident claim of 15% margin stability.
Her pen slowed.
She flipped back through the documents again. Then once more.
Two contracts listed under confirmed revenue were still pending.
Not signed.
Not even close.
Her stomach tightened.
Assistants didn't speak.
"I don't like assumptions," Alexander said calmly. "Explain the margin again."
Vivienne Clarke leaned forward. "We calculated risk into the projections. Fifteen percent covers volatility."
Elara's fingers curled around her pen.
That number was wrong.
Alexander's gaze shifted.
Not to Vivienne.To her.
"What do you have?" he asked.
Her breath caught.
"I—" She swallowed. "If we remove the two unsigned contracts, the margin drops by another three percent."
The room went quiet.
Someone checked the screen.
Someone else flipped a page.
"That's correct," the finance director said slowly. "It should be closer to eighteen percent."
Elara's face warmed. She lowered her eyes immediately.
Alexander nodded once.
"Eighteen percent," he said. "Renegotiate."
Just like that.
The meeting continued.
No one looked at her again.
Elara kept writing, hands steady only because she forced them to be.
When it ended, people filed out quickly.
"Ms. Moore."
She looked up.
"Yes, sir?"
"Clear my afternoon."
"Yes," she said quickly.
He turned and walked away.
Elara stayed seated for a moment, heart still racing.
She hadn't meant to speak.
But numbers didn't care about rules.