This was not like Theron.
He never left things by accident.
Especially a tie.
I held it in my hand and ran through the options of what to do with it before leaving for work.
One thought kept pushing its way into my head.
Stubborn. Unpleasant.
He had left it deliberately.
Not forgotten it.
As a sign.
As a trace that he had been here.
I stood there a little longer with the tie in my hands, then put it into my bag.
The decision was simple.
I was going to work anyway.
I just needed to stop by one more place on the way — the bank.
I went out, closing the door behind me.
On the way to work, I kept sorting through possibilities, but none of them came together.
The thoughts went in circles.
My head started to ache, and I went into a coffee shop.
At work I needed a double coffee.
Even considering the fact that there were no tasks, I wouldn't have been able to fall asleep anyway.
I was walking down the corridor and noticed how people were whispering and discussing something animatedly.
Pointing at their phones and showing things to one another.
Too active for an ordinary morning.
Something was wrong.
I took out my phone and opened the browser.
In every news feed, the same headline stood first:
"Head of the UNEST corporation found shot dead in his New York apartment."
Theron's main competitor…
My chest tightened.
My thoughts sped up.
So that was why he had been with me at night.
An alibi.
For himself.
The tie…
I clenched my phone and pressed it to my chest as I went upstairs.
Many possibilities spun in my head, but one clung with particular persistence:
he had used me as a guarantee.
When I reached my desk, I reread the news once more.
It said the murder had occurred at night.
The FBI had already taken over the investigation.
The apartment was about an hour away from me — maybe an hour and a half — even at night, by taxi.
My thoughts tangled.
I tried to pull myself together.
Work seemed like the only way to distract myself.
I wrote to Ostin again about assignments.
The reply finally came.
9:15 — "Come up to Theron's office. Now." — Ostin
The word now was not emphasized by accident.
Apparently, it was urgent.
I needed to meet him and make it clear that I understood why the tie had been left.
Without words.
Through behavior.
Act as usual.
Indifferent.
Professional.
Inside, everything was tightening, but that was no reason to change the mask.
As the elevator went up, I caught myself realizing that I didn't feel the bitterness that had been there before.
Back then, when other men betrayed me.
Back then, it scorched.
Now — no.
I had understood from the beginning that Theron didn't come for nothing.
I hadn't built illusions.
I took what I needed — sex.
That was enough.
I didn't expect more.
And I don't think anything can surprise or please me anymore.
The words of a man from my past surfaced in my head:
"You'll always be used."
Back then, it hurt.
Now — it was simply a fact.
Even if Theron had used me, at least he paid.
Not with promises.
Not with empty words.
That was more than the others ever did.
I would just close my eyes and pretend that nothing had happened.
I would not allow this to affect me.
NEVER.
I entered the office.
As usual, he was sitting at the desk, sorting through documents, signing something.
He wasn't wearing a tie.
The top button of his shirt was undone — unusual.
I stood calmly, as if nothing were out of the ordinary, and tried not to look at him.
Tried — but still looked.
Too composed.
Too well-groomed a man.
The kind who inevitably draws attention.
Not only mine.
"Sit down," Theron said almost immediately.
Judging by his voice, he was in a good mood.
Of course.
The main competitor was dead.
There was an alibi.
Few reasons to be dissatisfied.
I sat down and mentally replayed the worst day imaginable — so my face would betray nothing.
I needed to hide.
Completely.
Otherwise, I would remain a pawn.
"I've read the report on Phoenix," he tore his gaze away from the papers and looked at me.
The smile was satisfied.
Irritating.
"Not bad. Even good."
He stood up from behind the desk and came closer.
"I'll issue a bonus. For the work. And for my brother's antics."
"Alright," I replied briefly and looked away.
I was looking at New York outside the window.
Space.
Distance.
Convenient.
"And one more thing. I remember my first promise," he placed a receipt from one of the American universities in front of me.
"As soon as she finishes school, submit the documents. Everything is paid for. Tuition, housing, meals."
"I think that's too much, considering my salary. But I'll accept," I said and took the receipt.
I put it into my pocket.
"Are there any other tasks?"
He didn't answer right away.
I turned toward him.
He leaned lower, and the distance between us shrank to a minimum.
His forehead touched mine on the left.
Too close not to notice.
Close enough not to step back.
"I left my tie at your place today," he said quietly.
His fingers traced over the undone button of my shirt.
The gesture was slow, almost lazy.
"You noticed?"
"Yes, I noticed," I replied casually.
"And where is it?" he asked calmly.
By his intonation, it was clear: he was pleased.
Everything was going according to his plan.
"I threw it away," I said.
"I decided it was an unnecessary thing. For you. And especially for me. I threw it out before work."
I saw shock flicker across his face.
He slowly pulled away.
Confused.
Something had gone wrong.
Not according to plan.
"What?" he asked again, still not fully understanding.
"I thought you had forgotten it. But as it turned out, you don't like leaving your things at my place," I continued evenly.
"I just didn't want anyone to decide that Theron had been with a simple employee."
He turned away and went back to the desk.
"You're free," his voice dropped.
There was more fatigue in it than irritation.
For a second — literally for a couple of heartbeats — I thought that perhaps I had acted wrongly.
The thought didn't linger.
I was ready.
Even if I was being used — I wouldn't allow it to happen without my participation.
I stood up and left, heading to my office with a sense of a small victory.
But…
They never gave me any work.
Returning to my office, I sat down at the computer and almost immediately realized — there was nothing to do again.
I called Ostin.
Silence in response.
I sent a message.
The same.
Why hire me at all if no one gives me tasks?
I was angry.
I couldn't determine exactly whether it was at the idleness or the situation with Theron.
What irritated me more: sitting and wasting time, or the realization that he, like the others, had simply used me.
The day dragged on in silence.
At lunch I went out to the neighboring coffee shop for a sandwich.
Two girls were standing nearby, looking at their phones and discussing the news.
"I just can't believe it," one said.
"It's not true… it can't be," the other kept repeating.
Both looked upset.
Apparently, the news of the competitor's death had affected them too.
They understood that if an investigation began, the consequences would touch everyone.
Idleness irritated me more than Theron himself.
I wandered around the office aimlessly.
When I finally sat down with a book, a message from Ostin came.
14:30 — "Come to my office."
Finally.
I got up almost immediately and headed toward him, not allowing myself to break into a run, but not wasting time either.
When I entered Ostin's office, it was immediately clear — he was irritated.
He was sitting with his elbows on the desk, holding his head in his hands.
I hadn't even had time to say anything when he began:
"I'll be honest. I know that Theron stayed at your place overnight. And more than once."
He took a breath and ran his hands through his hair, as if he were talking about something far more serious than personal matters.
Of course.
I had already destroyed the most convenient piece of evidence.
"Tell me honestly," he continued.
"He left his tie at your place, didn't he?"
He finally looked up at me.
There was despair there.
"Yes," I answered calmly, as if we were talking about something everyday.
"Did he summon you to his office after that?" Ostin уточнил.
"Yes."
"The problem is," he exhaled, "after that he's as if gone mad."
I didn't comment.
The plan had clearly become more complicated.
But Ostin's reaction was unusual.
It seemed that I really had interfered in something bigger.
"I'll ask one question," he said, looking at me seriously, more seriously than ever.
I nodded.
"He left his tie at your place?"
Hope appeared in his voice.
"Yes," I repeated in the same tone.
"And… that's all?" he asked doubtfully.
"I just threw it in the trash," I said and allowed myself to look guilty.
"I thought he didn't need it."
"What did you do?" Ostin jumped up from his chair.
"You threw it away?" His voice broke.
I froze.
He knew.
And he was in shock.
"Do you even understand what that meant?" he almost loomed over me.
"I decided it wasn't important," I said, turning on naïveté.
"Was it really that crucial?"
Ostin sank back into the chair and pressed his forehead to the desk.
I had never seen him in such a state.
"Did you read the news?" he asked dully.
"Yes. There was something about the competitor's death," I replied in the same even tone, as if I didn't understand where he was going.
"No. I mean what the whole company has been discussing since this morning," he replied, and the fury in his gaze was directed straight at me.
At that moment, he looked frightening.
Even more so than Theron in anger.
"Don't tell me you didn't see it," he said and sank back into the chair again, now with despair.
Could all of this really be because of one tie?
"I saw the news about the tragedy. About the murder of one of our main competitors," I answered evenly, without elaboration.
"No. Open the news and read about Vescari," Ostin ordered in a low voice.
I opened the browser and scrolled through the feed.
The second headline was highlighted larger than the others:
"Head of the Vescari family chooses a new beloved. The tie was given to one of the women, as he appeared without it for the first time. Who is she?"
I blinked.
Then again.
I didn't immediately understand what I was reading.
I looked up at Ostin.
He understood immediately.
"And don't tell me you didn't know," he said tiredly.
"The Vescari family has been passing ties to their chosen women for generations. Future wives. Everyone knows that."
He looked straight at me.
"It's a long-standing tradition. The tie is a sign of his choice," he swallowed.
I stood in silence.
My face went empty.
"And don't tell me you didn't see how the whole company has been guessing all day who his chosen one is, since he came in without a tie," Ostin continued.
"That's all anyone's been talking about. Only…"
He stopped, noticing my reaction.
"How could I have known?" I forced out.
The shock was dull.
"Do you really mean to say you didn't notice the company going crazy?" he exclaimed.
"I…"
The words wouldn't come.
Because all this time I had been certain:
he had done it for an alibi.