The second morning at Marlowe Industries dawned bright and brisk.
Clara's alarm blared before sunrise, and for a brief second, she lay there blinking at the ceiling, unsure if yesterday had been real. Then the memory rushed back. Her first day. Her first desk. The name badge that actually had her name printed on it.
She smiled. It really happened.
By the time she stepped downstairs, Aunt May was already brewing coffee.
"You're up early," her aunt said, surprised. "Didn't you get home late yesterday?"
"I couldn't sleep," Clara admitted, tying her hair into a high ponytail. "They might assign us new tasks today. I want to be ready."
Aunt May chuckled softly. "You're turning into quite the professional."
"Hopefully one who doesn't mess up her second day," Clara muttered, sipping coffee.
---
At Marlowe, the atmosphere was livelier than usual. People moved in and out of meeting rooms carrying stacks of files, and Clara could sense the tension rippling through the department.
Daniel appeared at her desk, a folder in hand. "Good morning, Clara. Ready for a challenge?"
Her brows lifted. "A challenge?"
He smiled. "We've got an investment client from Zephyr Dynamics visiting today. The higher-ups want a presentation prepared on our quarterly sales outreach plan. It's mostly a preliminary meet, but still, important."
"Sounds like a big deal," Clara said, eyes bright.
Daniel nodded. "I want you to handle it. Prepare the intro, the product sheets, and assist me with the client visit. It'll be great exposure."
Clara froze for a second. "Me?"
"Of course," Daniel said. "You've got good instincts. You'll be fine."
Her excitement bubbled up instantly. "Thank you! I'll do my best."
From the next desk, Mia's hand stilled over her keyboard. Her eyes flicked up, expression unreadable.
---
By noon, Clara was buried in files. Charts, brochures, financial reports, her screen looked like a war zone of spreadsheets. She was too busy to notice the glances Mia threw her way.
Why her? Mia thought, tapping her pen hard against the desk. I've got better degree, experience and...she glanced at Clara. Better looks. She smirked proudly. I should've gotten that chance.
Her jaw tightened when Daniel praised Clara again for a detail she caught in a report. Every compliment felt like a slap.
---
At lunch, Mia approached Clara, with a sweet smile. "Hey, you haven't eaten, have you?"
Clara looked up from her desk. "Not yet. I thought I'd finish this first."
"You'll faint if you keep skipping meals." Mia laughed, setting down a cup of coffee. "Here — take this. I got two by mistake."
Clara blinked. "Oh, thank you, that's really kind."
"No problem," Mia said, smiling.
"We all need a boost before meeting big clients, right?"
Clara nodded gratefully, sipping the hot coffee. The fresh, warm cup of coffee was just what she needed.
At first, I thought Mia was the non friendly, professional workaholic type, but I guess I was wrong. She felt a relief, as her workplace was filled with kind and friendly people.
---
Fifteen minutes later, Clara's screen looked much organized.
Finally. She sighed in relief.
But a second later she felt her head throbbing. Or rather she felt lightheaded.
She blinked at the screen. The numbers blurred. Her fingers slipped on the keyboard.
What's wrong with me…?
She pushed her chair back, clutching her temple. The room tilted slightly.
She glanced at her watch. She still had two hours left before the client arrives.
Maybe it's just stress. She just needed a nap. Just ten minutes…
She pulled the chair closer to her desk and folded her hands on and laid her head on them. The moment her head touched her hands, her vision faded.
---
At the same time, upstairs in the executive wing,
Ronan stood near the wide glass window, jaw tense as Max briefed him about the upcoming Zephyr meeting.
"Who's handling it?" Ronan asked.
"Sales department. Daniel's leading, an intern will be meeting Mr. Jake." Max said, checking his notes.
Ronan frowned. "Which intern?"
Max hesitated. "…Clara Jean."
Ronan's hand froze mid-motion. His eyes snapped to Max's. "She's meeting the Zephyr Dynamics delegate?"
"Yes. A preliminary presentation."
For a moment, silence filled the room, the kind that made Max shift uncomfortably.
Ronan turned sharply toward the window. "No. Not that one."
"Sir?"
"That contract involves a branch under Jacob's," he said lowly, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
"I won't have her anywhere near that."
Max blinked. "Understood. I'll change the assignment."
"Now," Ronan ordered, his voice a quiet snarl.
---
But when Max reached the Sales Department, things had already shifted.
Through the glass walls of the meeting lounge, he spotted Mia seated confidently across from the man named Jake, a portly man in his forties with a gold watch and wandering eyes.
Max's frown deepened.
That's not Clara Jean.
He stepped aside, quickly messaging Ronan through their link.
Max: Clara's not here. Mia is handling the client.
Ronan: What? Why?
Max: No idea. Daniel or Blake haven't shown up yet either.
Ronan's pulse quickened. He felt something was not right. Although it was a relief Clara didn't meet with Jake, but still his mind felt restless.
---
Meanwhile, Daniel's phone buzzed. Seeing "CEO Office" flashing on the screen, his eyes widened. He shot a look at Aaron.
"Hold the meeting prep. I need to go upstairs," he muttered before rushing out.
A few desks away, Aaron glanced around, realizing Clara hadn't returned from lunch. He walked toward her desk and stopped short.
There she was asleep, head leaning on the desk, her face pale, breathing deep.
"Clara?" He shook her shoulder gently.
She stirred, blinking groggily. "W-what time is it?"
"It's almost two!" Aaron said.
Her eyes shot open. "What?!"
She jumped up so quickly she almost tripped. "Oh no! No, no, no!"
"Clara, wait! Where are you—"
But she was already sprinting down the corridor.
---
As she rounded the corner to the elevators, she crashed right into someone, hard.
Her files scattered everywhere.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," she began, only to look up into the familiar blue-gray eyes of Blake.
"Well," he said smoothly, helping her steady herself, "why are you still here? Weren't you supposed to meet Mr Jake?"
Clara flushed. "I...uh...yes, I.."
His gaze sharpened. He looked at his watch.
Blake's polite mask flickered. "Interesting."
He smiled again, but there was a glint of something colder behind it. "You know, Clara, it doesn't look good for interns to be late for their assigned tasks. The higher-ups don't take kindly to… mistakes."
"I am sorry I didn't—" she tried to explain, but he was already walking off, his tone clipped.
"Make sure you fix this before it ruins your record," he said, disappearing down the hall.
Clara's throat tightened. She gathered her files and ran.
---
When she reached the meeting lounge, the sight before her froze her steps.
Mia!
She sat opposite the client, laughing softly at something he said. Her blouse buttons were undone just enough to make the man's eyes gleam. His laughter was coarse, his words suggestive.
Clara felt sick.
Mia… what are you doing?
"Mia?" she called out quietly.
The woman turned, her smile vanishing for a second before she replaced it with a perfect facade.
"Clara! There you are."
The client blinked between them. "You didn't say there'd be two of you."
Mia's tone was quick and sugary.
"Oh, Clara was supposed to join, but she was unwell, so I volunteered to help."
Clara stared at her. "That's not—"
Before she could finish, Blake stepped into the lounge.
His eyes swept the scene, the nervous client, Mia's poised smile, and Clara's flustered face.
"What's going on here?" he demanded.
Mia instantly stood, hands folded innocently. "Just clarifying the project details, sir. Clara seemed unwell earlier, so I thought I'd step in."
Blake's cold gaze landed on Clara. "Unwell?"
Clara's voice faltered. "I...I didn't—"
He cut her off, voice sharp. "This is a professional setting, Miss Jean. Sleeping on the job, missing client meetings, that's not what we expect here."
The room went silent. Even Mr Jake looked awkward now.
Clara's heart dropped. "Mr Blake I—"
But Blake's expression didn't soften. "This will be your first and last warning. Don't waste opportunities others work hard for."
His words sliced deeper than intended. Clara bit her lip, holding back tears.
Mia's face remained the picture of sympathy — except for the faint curl of satisfaction in her eyes.
---
From across the glass corridor, unseen behind the reflective wall, Ronan stood watching.
He had arrived just as Blake's reprimand echoed through the room.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, the sharp crack of bone audible in the silence of his control.
Draven screamed in him to pounce on and tear that smug expression off Blake's face, to shield Clara from the humiliation written all over her trembling frame.
She didn't deserve this.
Draven stirred, restless. You're just going to stand there?
Not now, Ronan replied, his voice tight.
He couldn't let her see him, not yet.
His eyes darkened as he turned to Max, who had just arrived.
"Find out everything," he said quietly. "Now."
As he walked away, the glass caught the reflection of his silver eyes burning faintly crimson.
Below, Clara stood frozen in the echo of her own shame, unaware that somewhere above her, an alpha's fury was barely being contained.