Meera pov
I leaned against the marble counter in the executive break room, stirring my coffee slowly, eyes flicking toward the hallway like a hawk circling prey.
Jane had passed by twenty minutes ago — hair messy, shoulders tense, same expression she always wore: that lost, helpless, I-don't-belong-here look. Pathetic.
I smirked.
Zayn usually burned through assistants faster than his expensive pens — and yet this one still had a desk, a badge, and a job.
Why?
I took a sip of my coffee, lips curling into a sneer. Maybe Zayn liked projects now. Maybe he liked fixing fragile little strays who couldn't walk into a room without apologizing for breathing.
Or maybe — and this was worse — he liked her.
my stomach twisted at the thought.
I have been loyal. Polished. Perfect. Everything a man like Zayn should've wanted in a woman. i dressed the part. Spoke the part. Sat in every executive meeting like i belonged there — because i did.
And yet somehow, his eyes had started drifting. Not toward her. But toward that girl.
That awkward little nobody with shaky hands and downcast eyes.
Jane.
i set my cup down with a soft clink, my fingers tightening slightly around the ceramic.
It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. It was injustice. i had worked for this. Waited. Played the long game.
Jane had done nothing.
And yet Zayn didn't snap at her like he used to. He didn't fire her after she'd spilled his coffee — twice. He looked at her now. Longer than necessary. Quietly. As if… curious.
my jaw tightened.
Fine. If the little secretary wanted to play in their world, she'd learn how sharp the edges really were.
Smiling to myself, i straightened, picked up my coffee, and walked back toward my office.
Let the girl enjoy the attention while it lasted.
She wouldn't last long.
Not once am done with her.
Jane pov
I had just restocked the meeting refreshment tray, smoothing the linen napkins to keep my hands busy. i could still feel Zayn's earlier glare from the morning — the weight of his voice when he called her almost late. She hated how it stuck with her.
i turned to leave—
And nearly collided with meera.
"Oh, sorry," i said automatically, stepping back.
meera didn't move. She stood too close, clutching a sleek black folder, eyes gleaming.
"No need to apologize," meera said, voice warm, fake. "We all bump into things sometimes. Especially when we're not used to high floors like this."
i blinked. "Excuse me?"
meera's smile widened. "Just saying, the executive floor can be… disorienting for some. Secretaries. Interns. People not used to real pressure."
i tensed. "I'm fine, thanks."
"Are you?" meera tilted her head. "Because Zayn was pretty disappointed after that little mix-up in Monday's files. Didn't say much, but you can tell. He's not the type to tolerate repeated mistakes." Her voice dipped. "You might want to start polishing your résumé."
i opened my mouth—then closed it.
What was the point?
meera didn't want a conversation. She wanted a reaction.
But before i could walk away, meera dropped her final dagger. Soft. Sweet. Cruel.
"I'm just trying to help you, Jane. Women like us have to work ten times harder to be taken seriously. Oh—" She laughed lightly. "Wait. I meant women like me."
That stung. Sharp and clean.
And then—
"meera."
Zayn's voice cut through the air like steel sliding out of its sheath.
I froze. i hadn't seen him approach.
He stood just behind us, suit immaculate, hands in his pockets, but his gaze—his gaze—was colder than I ve ever seen it.
meera turned. "mr Anderson," she said quickly, flashing that boardroom smile. "I was just—"
"Harassing my staff?"
meera's smile twitched.
"I wasn't—"
"She's under my command," Zayn said, stepping forward. "If there's an issue with her, it goes through me."
"Of course," meera said lightly. "But I was just offering advice—"
"Unasked for. Unnecessary. And clearly motivated." His eyes narrowed. "You forget I know exactly how you operate, meera."
The air went still.
my heart thundered in my ears.
meera's eyes flared. "You think I'm being petty? Over her?"
"I think you're being sloppy," Zayn said flatly. "And emotional. Which is dangerous. Especially for someone who couldn't even keep her emotions in check after one glass of champagne at last year's conference."
A slow, shocked silence.
Vanessa's face paled. Then flushed.
"You really want to bring that up in front of her?" she snapped, her polished mask slipping for the first time.
"I don't care who hears it," Zayn said, voice calm. "But I won't tolerate you cornering my assistant because you're still bitter I never looked at you the way I look at her."
i blinked.
Wait.
What—
meera stared at him, stunned. Then at me. Her lips parted like she might say something else—defend herself, retaliate, beg—but no words came.
She turned sharply on her heel and walked out, heels clicking like gunshots on tile.
Silence fell again.
Zayn exhaled, slow and cold.
i felt rooted to the floor. i managed to whisper, "You didn't have to…"
His eyes met mine. Quiet. Unreadable.
"She crossed a line," he said. "I don't let that slide."
He walked past me without another word, but just before the door shut behind him, i saw it—
Not anger.
Not annoyance.
But something else behind his eyes.
Possessiveness.
Confusion.
Regret?
I couldn't tell.
But i knew one thing for sure:
Zayn Anderson had just drawn a line.
And he'd drawn it with her on one side—
And everyone else on the other.