Monday, 7:00 a.m.
The morning sky looked like a wet watercolor left out in the rain—gray bleeding into grayer, cloud-heavy and cold, with no hint of the sun. A dull fog hugged the windows of the twenty-sixth floor, casting the office in a silver-blue gloom. The world below buzzed with horns, heels, and hurried footsteps, but up here, it was quiet with some hushed footsteps of the people from the secretary's office who were coming to work.
Inside the towering steel-and-glass corporate building, a woman sat at her desk in an office. The office was simple, with a chair and table at the center and some file cabinets. The front of the office is made of glass, making it easy to see who is coming and going.
She was the only one who had been there since before sunrise.
Her name was Olivia Bennett, and she'd been working for exactly one hour already.
She was the head secretary of the Ashford Corporation.
She sat with her back straight, fingers gliding effortlessly over the keyboard with a kind of precision that came only from too many sleepless nights and too few thank-yous. Her sleek desk was covered with perfectly aligned stacks of folders, color-coded Post-its, and a stainless steel travel mug. The coffee inside had already gone cold.
The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a pale halo around her messy low bun and the dark circles that not even her concealer could quite cover today. She wore a navy pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse, and her signature gold watch—always five minutes fast.
She had already consumed two cups of burnt breakroom coffee, fixed a paper jam in the executive copier, and sent four emails on behalf of a man who hadn't even walked into the building yet. Her screen pinged.
REMINDER:
"Monthly meeting at 9:00 AM."
Olivia exhaled softly, more out of habit than stress. Her hands were already pulling up the file before she could even think to be annoyed. She arranged all the files needed for the meeting in an orderly manner and continued to do her work.
Her fingers stilled for half a second. She stared at her inbox.
Fifty-eight unread emails.
She took a sip of her cold coffee. It tasted like burnt regret.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. She was fast—too fast for someone who only slept four hours last night.
She minimized the email and reached for her planner. It was a thick leather-bound journal with tabs for every department, every client, every emergency plan. She flipped to the day's schedule.
At exactly 8:00 a.m., the elevator door slid open.
He always arrived on time.Aiden Ashford didn't believe in early or late. He believed in precision and the psychological warfare of silence.
He is the current CEO of the Ashford Corporation.
Handsome.
Young.
Intelligent.
Rich.
These are the words that could perfectly describe the man. He has black hair that is always styled, not a single hair out of place. His icy gray eyes, devoid of emotion, stared straight ahead as he walked past Olivia's office in a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent.
As soon as Olivia sees him, she quickly makes her way toward him.
After saying her greetings, she began to tell him his schedule for the day from her planner.
He didn't offer a nod. No eye contact. Not even a curt "morning."
Just the faintest scent of his expensive cologne—clean, cold, and oddly comforting, like the last chill of winter air before spring.
Then, just as he opened the door to his office, he paused.
"Why is the Anderson file still on my desk?" His voice was low, sharp.
Olivia didn't even look at him and said while going through her planner, "Because you haven't signed it yet, sir."
Silence.
She finally glanced at him, just in time to see a flicker of something cross his face—surprise?.
He said nothing. Just disappeared into his office with the door clicking shut behind him.
Olivia blinked once, calmly. She turned around and went to the breakroom, made a cup of coffee, and brought it to Aidan's office along with the files that needed to be signed.
By 8:17, she had rescheduled three meetings, emailed legal about a non-disclosure breach, tracked down a missing intern, and updated Aiden's travel calendar with new hotel arrangements—because, of course, he'd booked himself into a hotel chain that didn't exist anymore.
She'd been doing this job for almost three years. Three years of silent loyalty, late-night calls, last-minute emergencies, and thankless coordination.
Even though she has a complete team of people under her, she has to do most of the work herself.
Aiden never complimented her work. Never asked how her weekend was. Never noticed the way she stayed two hours late every Friday just to clean up the messes no one else wanted to touch.
But he noticed when something was missing.
At 8:45, Olivia finally sat back and looked at her planner. Her week was packed wall-to-wall with meetings, deadlines, and reminders in fine black ink. Her hand reached out automatically and flipped to the next blank page.