There was something about the way he stood at the window. Motionless. One hand in his pocket, the other lightly resting against the glass like he was holding back a world he didn't trust.
Amara Leigh had only seen him like that once before the morning after he fired half of the compliance team without blinking.She'd been his assistant for just three weeks.Today marked month six.
Seth Caldwell. Forty-one. CEO. Divorced. Brilliant. Cautious. The kind of man who wore silence like a tailored suit.
And she... she was the girl who took his coffee order wrong on her first day.
Now she was the only person in the building who could walk into his office without being summoned though she never dared to unless he said, "Come in." Which he hadn't. Yet here she was, holding a folder she didn't understand but had been told to deliver directly. She stood just inside his door, not sure if she should clear her throat or turn back around. His voice broke the silence. "Close the door, Amara."
It was always her full name. Never "Miss Leigh." Never "Amy." He said it like it mattered.
She shut the door quietly, her fingers tightening on the file.
He turned, finally, eyes locking on hers. Hazel, but darkened by thought. There was a pull in his gaze she couldn't describe not magnetic, not warm… but *aware*. Like he saw too much in her.
"What's in the folder?"
"I… I'm not sure," she admitted. "Compliance sent it. Said you'd know what to do."
He took it from her without touching her skin, always careful not to and sat behind his desk.
Amara hesitated, unsure whether to stay. "Do you like working here?" he asked suddenly.She blinked. "Sir?"
His gaze didn't lift. "You've lasted longer than most. You never ask for anything. You're never late. You're quiet. I assume that means contentment, or resignation. I'm not sure which." She swallowed. "I… I think I'm just grateful to be here."
"Gratitude doesn't last," he said. Silence. Then, softly: "But strength does."
Amara's throat tightened. She didn't know why those words hit so hard. Maybe because no one had ever told her she could be strong not in a way that felt like a promise instead of a demand. He looked up. "You may go."
She nodded, turning quickly before her voice cracked. Back at her desk, she stared at her reflection in the black screen of her monitor.
Twenty-six. The last few years had been a blur of half-finished dreams and quiet disappointments. She used to want to be a journalist. She used to write at night. She used to fight back when people talked over her.
Now she organized a powerful man's life… and disappeared into the cracks of her own. But when he looked at her, it didn't feel like she was no one.
Later that evening, long after the office had emptied out, Amara stayed behind.
Her screen glowed blue as she sorted archived files for a quarterly review Seth was scheduled to lead. Boring work. Repetitive.
Until she opened one labeled *INT-713: Red Folder Access Only*.
She hadn't meant to.She clicked too fast, her fingers moving automatically.
What she saw made her stomach knot.Names.Amounts. Internal memos marked with terms like *"offshore accounts"* and *"intellectual laundering"*.
And then a message, an internal chat, half-erased but recoverable.
S.C.: "If this gets out, we don't walk away clean." R.J.: "Then we bury it. And anyone who's digging." S.C. Seth Caldwell.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She backed away from the screen like it could burn her. This wasn't just a bad file. This was evidence. Criminal. Dangerous. And if she was reading it… someone might know she'd seen it. Suddenly the office didn't feel quiet anymore. She stood up, grabbed her coat then paused as she heard footsteps. Not from the hallway. From his private corridor.
She barely had time to move before Seth stepped into the room.
His eyes swept over her not unkindly, but sharply."You're still here."
"I—" She swallowed. "I was just finishing the—""Red folder access?" he interrupted.
Her stomach dropped.She couldn't lie. He already knew.He stepped closer, slow and quiet.Her body tensed.
But his expression was unreadable. When he reached her desk, he looked at the monitor for a moment then back at her."You weren't meant to see that."
Amara's voice was a whisper. "Then why was it there?" A long pause."I wanted to see what you'd do," he said.Her eyes widened. "What?"
"You've been invisible since the day you started. You hide your thoughts. Your voice. Yourself. I needed to know what you'd do when the world finally *noticed* you."
Her mouth opened. Closed. Then: "That's not fair." "No," he said. "But it's true."
They stood there in a silence so full it might burst. Then, something in her rose up.
"I'm not weak," she said."I never said you were." "But you thought about it."
He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "I thought you were hiding. And I still think you are." Amara's breath caught.
He was too close. Not physically, not quite but emotionally. Like he could reach in and touch things no one else dared to."I should go," she whispered. "Probably."She didn't move.Neither did he.