Chapter 10 Chapter 10
Chapter 10
She knocked once.
Then again, softly.
No response.
She stood still for a second, then decided to push the door open by herself. The knob turned easily, and the heavy door slid halfway before she stepped inside.
The office was empty. Quiet. The air smelled clean and expensive — like fresh polish mixed with something faintly woody. Everything looked almost too perfect.
The large windows were open halfway, the long curtain swaying lightly. A big desk sat in the middle of the room.
Behind it, a tall shelf with rows of files, all neatly arranged. The rug, the walls, even the furniture screamed money. Old money. The kind you could feel just by standing there.
Celine stood for a moment, frozen. Her fingers pressed against the handle of her tote bag. The place looked far different from what she expected.
She slowly walked forward, trying not to make noise with her sneakers. Her eyes stopped at the desk. There was a golden name tag right at the center.
ETHAN CASTELLAN
She read it softly.
Her lips parted a little. “Am I in the wrong place?” she whispered to herself.
Just then, she heard a sound behind her. The click of a door. The bathroom door.
She turned immediately.
A man stepped out.
Tall. Brunette hair still slightly damp, a towel in one hand. His shirt was half-buttoned, revealing his broad chest. His jawline was sharp, his blue eyes unreadable.
Celine froze. Her eyes dropped instantly to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her voice small.
There was silence for a second. Then, his voice came out, calm but cold.
“May I help you?”
He didn’t look at her. He walked past her, heading for the desk like she wasn’t there.
“I was sent here to work,” she said, voice shaking a bit. “They said as the file clerk.”
He paused briefly, picked something from the table, and pointed toward the far end of the room.
“There,” he said flatly.
There was a small desk beside the window a computer, some folders, and a chair.
“Thank you,” she said again, barely audible.Celine quietly walked toward her new space, her heart beating faster than it should. She sat down slowly and placed her tote beside her chair.
Her eyes roamed the office a bit everything was spotless, organized. Even the pen stand on his desk looked like it had been measured before being placed there.
After some minutes, the door opened again. Two junior staff came in with a pile of files.
“Sir, these are the records from last week,” one of them said, bowing slightly.
Ethan just nodded. “Leave them there,” he said, pointing to Celine’s desk.
The files were stacked right in front of her.
The two workers left.
She stared at the pile for a few seconds.
It was more than she expected several thick folders tied together.
She looked at the man behind the desk. He was focused on his computer, typing.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said softly.
He didn’t look up.
“What should I do with these?”
He kept typing. Then, without lifting his head, he said, “Sort them by date. Keep the old ones in the bottom drawer.”
She nodded even though he wasn’t looking.
“Yes, sir.”
She started working. Opening one file after another.
Her hands trembled a little as she touched each folder. She was scared to make mistakes.
The office was too quiet. She could hear every movement he made behind her — the chair creak, the pen tap, the sound of his phone buzzing once in a while.
Each time she glanced up accidentally, she could feel his presence even without looking. It made her more nervous.
After a few minutes, someone brought in a stack of files for her to organize.
She took a deep breath and started sorting them out. The papers smelled of ink and cologne probably his. She worked quietly, trying to figure out the system they used.
Every now and then, she caught herself glancing in his direction.
He was still at his desk, completely focused, barely moving except to write or turn a page.
“He really acts like he’s the only one here,” she whispered. “No greetings, nothing. How rude.”
Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. The clock on the wall showed it was already past two in the afternoon. She had skipped lunch because she didn’t want to look unserious on her first day.
A woman stepped in — slim, dressed formally. “Sir, your meeting with Mr. Collins is in fifteen minutes.”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Then she turned to Celine. “You must be the new file clerk,” she said kindly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Celine replied.
“Welcome. Mr. Castellan doesn’t like noise. Just do your work quietly, and you’ll be fine,” the woman said before leaving.
Celine smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
When the door closed, Ethan stood up. His height made the room feel smaller.
He grabbed his suit jacket from the chair and wore it with one clean move.
“Don’t touch the top shelf files,” he said, picking up his phone.
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
Then he left, the sound of the door closing behind him.
Celine exhaled deeply and sat down again.
Her hands brushed her chest slowly. She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath for so long.
She turned her eyes toward his desk clean, organized and untouched.
She got back to work, typing, sorting, stapling. The papers kept coming. She lost track of time.
Her back started to ache, and her eyes were burning from staring at the screen. By the time she was done, the desk looked neat again.
She stacked the last folder carefully and smiled a little to herself.
“At least I did something right today,” she said, gathering her bag.
The office door was still closed. Ethan hadn’t returned yet.
She glanced once more around the huge office the tall shelves, the scent of expensive wood, the silence that followed her every move.
Then she left quietly, shutting the door behind her.
\---
It was almost eight when Ethan returned from his meeting. His tie was loose, and his eyes were tired. The office was quiet again, but something on the little desk caught his eye.
The files.
He walked over slowly, his hand brushing over the papers. They were neatly arranged, everything in order. He noticed a few pages where the notes were handwritten. Small, neat, almost delicate writing.
He stopped.
Something about the handwriting looked too familiar.
He frowned a little, picking one paper up and looking closer.
His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the sheet.
He couldn’t explain why, but his chest felt strange. A small pull, like his mind was trying to remember something.
Then, all at once, it came.
A flash just for a second like a picture inside his head.
A memory.
A piece of paper, soft and folded. His own name written in that same handwriting.
The same shape of the letters.
The same slant of the words.
And on it, the words......
“I loved him, Ethan.”
His
breathing slowed. His head hurt faintly. He closed his eyes for a second, the memory fading as quickly as it came.
He opened his eyes and stared at the file again.
He turned the paper around, hoping to find something that could explain why he felt this way. But there was nothing else just the notes she had written neatly.