Since her first day at the office, many days had quietly passed by, each one folding into the next with an almost predictable rhythm. Morning duties, quiet dinners, stolen glances, and unsaid words had become the norm. Nothing out of the ordinary had disrupted the strange, careful peace that lingered between her and Xander.
She welcomed the normalcy, even if it felt like a storm was waiting just beyond the horizon. Or maybe she was just overthinking it. I mean these days probably felt normal because she's adapting.
By late morning, she was settled into real tasks—actual administrative duties instead of the petty errands she did on her first day. She had nearly finished arranging a meeting calendar when a pair of heels clacked down the hall like a threat.
A striking woman with fierce eyes and a designer purse stormed into the assistant's wing like she owned it.
Erin looked up, blinking. "Can I help you?"
"You're Erin, right?"
"Yes."
"I'm Lillianne Thornwell."
The name didn't ring a bell.
Seeing the blank look, Lilianne's smile tightened. "Xander's betrothed."
Erin's expression didn't change, which only irritated Lilianne more.
"Xander didn't mention me?"
"I think I'll remember if he did."
"That's fine. I heard he got a new assistant after a long while and thought I'd pay a friendly visit," she said smoothly, stepping further into the room uninvited. "You see, I've known Xander since we were children. Our families go back generations."
Erin didn't respond, and Lilianne's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"I'm concerned about him," she continued. "I've heard he's been… distracted lately. There are rumors he's not well. And he not picking my calls proves that. And naturally, I care."
There was a deliberate pause. "And since you're… close to him now, I thought maybe you could keep me updated. Just the basics. Where he goes. What he talks about. Who he meets."
Erin blinked, stunned at the audacity. "I'm sorry, are you asking me to spy on him?"
Lilianne gave a breathy laugh. "Spy is such a crude word. I just want you to help me look out for him." She pulled a slim envelope from her handbag and placed it on Erin's desk. "Let's call it compensation for being a concerned friend."
Erin stared at the envelope, then back at Lilianne. "That's unethical. Completely against company protocol and values. Mine too."
Lilianne's smile faded. "So, that's a no?"
"A hard no."
The Thornwell heiress straightened, cold fury replacing charm. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"
Erin gave a small shrug. "A woman desperate enough to bribe someone because she can't keep her man's attention?"
Lilianne's face turned to stone.
There was a moment of charged silence, and then suddenly Lilianne raised her hand.
Erin caught it midair.
"You don't want to do that," Erin said flatly.
But Lilianne wasn't done. Her eyes flashed with something dangerous, and then she did the unthinkable—she slapped herself.
The sound echoed in the room. A few curious heads turned. One of the assistants nearby rushed in.
"She hit me!" Lilianne cried, pointing at Erin. "This little tramp hit me!"
The assistant gasped.
"What? No—" Erin started, but the room was already buzzing. People exchanged glances. No one dared question Lilianne Thornwell.
In fact, some started murmuring in favor of her saying Erin really hit her even though most of them hadn't even seen what happened. And for those who did, they knew better than to speak up.
"The least you can do is to apologise to her." One staff said clearly trying to look good for Lillianne.
"I will never apologise for a mistake I never did." Erin said firmly.
"Still denying? Everyone saw you do it. You should be begging Mrs Thornwell to forgive you." Another staff said.
"Sorry. But I don't suck up to people unlike you."
Several coworkers were already joining in. And they were all in support of Lillianne. "I saw it." "Did she just slap Miss Thornwell and refuse to apologise?"
Then a deep voice cut through the rising noise. "That's enough."
Xander Volkov's tall frame appeared at the glass entrance, his face unreadable.
Lillianne spun toward him with wet eyes and a shaking voice. "She struck me. I came to speak to her politely—"
"She didn't," Xander interrupted, his tone low and sure.
She blinked. "What?"
"I said she didn't," he repeated. "I know how you work, Lillianne. These are your tactics. Cry, accuse, and make a scene."
Her face turned white. "You're… you're taking her side?"
"I'm standing on the side that doesn't fake being assaulted. That's not just unprofessional—it's manipulative and disgusting."
"You don't even know her!" Lillianne snapped.
"No, but I trust her more than I'll ever trust you."
The air turned icy.
Erin stared at him, stunned. Even she hadn't expected that. Xander hadn't seen what happened. He had no reason to believe her. And yet, he had.
The shame on Lillianne's face cracked into fury. Her nostrils flared. "Oh, now I get it. You're screwing her, aren't you?"
Xander didn't flinch.
"She's probably slept her way into this job like the rest of them. That's how girls like her get in."
Before Erin could even breathe out a response, Xander spoke, with disdain this time. "Don't ever speak about her like that again."
Lillianne froze. And suddenly she snapped and her hand headed straight for Erin trying to get physical.
Xander didn't shout. He didn't need to.
He turned slightly. "Security."
Two guards appeared almost instantly at the entrance.
"Escort Miss Thornwell out."
"I can walk," Lillianne snapped, brushing past the guards. "You'll regret this," she hissed at Erin, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I'll make sure you lose everything."
Erin didn't respond.
Lillianne left, heels stabbing at the floor, her dignity cracking with each step.
The moment hung heavy. The other assistants slowly returned to their workstations, the silence now a shield of pretend normalcy.
Xander lingered just a moment longer, glancing briefly at Erin—his eyes unreadable—before turning and walking away.
Erin stood there, her chest rising and falling. Her heart was still racing.
She had expected to be humiliated. Accused. Dismissed.
But instead… she had been defended.
And that changed most things.