Chapter 51 Ephemeral Decency
Caroline stood frozen, listening, unable to process the assistant's words.
It was nothing like the humiliation and hostility she had steeled herself to face. His courtesy felt unreal, almost disorienting.
It was like Kenna's unexpected kindness—warm enough to make her uneasy, gentle enough to make her doubt it could be real.
What was happening lately?
Why did it seem as if more people were treating her without open cruelty… or at least without the worst kind of contempt?
And yet, the calmer they were, the more it unsettled her, as if she were walking on air with nothing solid beneath her feet.
The shift was too sharp, the future too unpredictable. That uncertainty was more frightening than outright malice.
A wild thought crept in—had she already died back in that cold, damp maze of trees? Was all of this nothing more than a long, merciless dream after death?
She took her time before finally accepting the business card.
"I'll leave you to it, madam. Please take your time."
Liam gave a small nod and turned to go.
Caroline stood alone in the unfamiliar space, scanning the room.
Everything was too clean, too orderly, alien from anything she had ever known.
She moved to the broad office chair and sat down carefully.
In her mind, she reminded herself, 'Don't let your guard down.'
She was almost certain this was Alexander's new arrangement. Liam was only the executor, and executors never defied the will of the one in control.
His politeness, his attentiveness—they could easily be Alexander's orders. For the sake of appearances, at least here in the company, Alexander had to maintain his authority. He would not let anyone see his own ugliness.
Yes. That had to be it.
She could not trust any kindness on the surface.
Under Alexander's absolute control, even the smallest warmth could be wrapped around a lethal trap.
She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to steady.
A soft knock came at the door.
It was Alexander's female secretary.
She hung a set of clothes on the rack behind the door, placed a file box on the corner of the desk, and bowed politely.
"Madam, these were sent by Liam. The clothing size is an estimate—if it does not fit, let me know. These are new documents that need preliminary review and filing."
Caroline gestured, opened her mouth but only managed a nod, struggling to convey thanks.
The secretary did not seem surprised by her silence. She returned a polite smile and left quietly.
The office was hers again.
Her eyes fell on the clothing—a tailored light gray skirt suit, paired with a white silk blouse and a pair of new black mid-heel shoes. The style was classic, the colors understated, perfect for an assistant's role without drawing undue attention.
She rose, took the clothes, and stepped into the small adjoining lounge. A full-length mirror stood inside. She removed her worn outfit and awkwardly changed into the professional set.
In the mirror, she saw her reflection—her face still pale and drawn, but at least neat, clean… human.
For a fleeting moment, she felt a trace of dignity.
But her mind shattered it almost instantly.
Dignity? Who had given her these clothes? Alexander, out of distaste, had ordered her to change.
Who had arranged this office? Alexander.
Who had decided she would play the role of an assistant here? Alexander.
This semblance of normalcy, this fleeting dignity—it was built entirely on his indulgence, his control. Like trading a bird's cage for a more ornate version, lining it with softer fabric. It might look cherished, but it did not change the fact the bird had lost its freedom, its life in another's hands.
And how long could this illusion last?
A day? An hour? The next second?
She did not dare think. She could not.
All she knew was that now she had to play the assistant's role perfectly.
Do the work in front of her. Give Alexander no reason to punish her.
As for the future… she would take it one step at a time.
If there was a future at all.
She steadied her breathing and returned to the desk.
A stack of files Liam had brought sat waiting.
Caroline forced herself to focus, pulling them toward her and reading word by word.
At first, it was a grind.
She knew almost nothing about business. Her field had been psychology, and for the past five years she had barely worked at all.
Most of that time had been spent under Alexander's control, under his pressure.
In those five years, the patients she had followed from start to finish could be counted on one hand.
The dense, technical language felt like another tongue entirely.
She pushed herself to read.
Once without understanding, then again, then again.
Gradually, she began to adapt.
She was not trained in commerce, but she had once been the Neville Family's carefully groomed daughter, educated at the highest level, with a bright career in psychology ahead of her.
Her abilities had not vanished—they had only been locked away, frozen.
Bit by bit, she found a rhythm. She could identify which documents were urgent and which were merely important, pull key points from endless reports, and sort them according to Liam's instructions.
A sharp ache rose in her chest.
When sunlight flickered across the desk, she felt herself pulled back to a time long gone—before Edith's death, when she had been confident, independent, the Neville Family's proud daughter.
The faint sense of control returning lit a fragile spark inside her.
But unease followed close behind.
All morning, the office next door stayed unnervingly quiet.
The red internal phone did not ring once. Liam did not return.
And Alexander… no word at all, as if she had been forgotten.
Caroline's pulse quickened.
Had he placed her here just to sift through meaningless files?
Or was this the calm before the storm, while he prepared something new?