Chapter 47

Kayna’s POV

The office felt different that morning.

Not the usual current of quiet ambition and muted chatter that flowed through the marble halls of Marshall & Co. — this was heavier, weighted, as though the entire building had caught wind of a storm and was bracing itself for rain.

Damian arrived late.

When he finally walked into the main corridor, heads subtly turned — not out of judgment, but curiosity. He was a man whose presence commanded attention, but today something was off. His stride was still precise, but the confidence that usually framed his every movement seemed fractured, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t name.

He passed me without a word, his expression unreadable. I caught a fleeting look in his eyes — tension, fatigue, maybe anger — but before I could say anything, he disappeared into his office, the door closing quietly behind him.

“Morning, Kayna,” Ava said, appearing beside me with a folder in her hands. “He’s been like that since he came in.”

I turned to her. “Did something happen?”

Ava shrugged, lowering her voice. “I don’t know. But I saw him on a call earlier — with his mother, I think. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.”

That explained it. The way he’d avoided meeting my eyes, the tightness in his shoulders.

Still, something about the air around him made me uneasy — a quiet, brooding kind of intensity that pulled at the edges of my curiosity like a thread I couldn’t stop tugging.

I tried to focus on the work before me, but my mind kept drifting. Every time I passed by the glass wall of his office, I caught glimpses — Damian pacing, Damian pinching the bridge of his nose, Damian staring blankly at his computer screen as though it were a battlefield.

Something had cracked beneath that polished exterior.

By noon, I had given up pretending not to notice.

I gathered a few documents that required his signature and knocked lightly on his door.

“Come in,” came his voice, low and rough.

He was at his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. His hand rested against his forehead, the faintest trace of exhaustion pulling at his mouth.

I stepped closer. “These need your signature for the Cosmo account.”

He looked up then, and for the first time that day, his eyes met mine fully.

The distance between us felt like air before a storm.

He reached for the papers, our fingers brushing — a small, almost imperceptible contact that sent a ripple through my chest. He signed each page in silence, his expression thoughtful, his jaw tense.

“Is everything okay?” I asked softly before I could stop myself.

His pen paused mid-signature.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost detached. “Define okay.”

I swallowed. “You just seem… off today.”

He finished signing the last document and set the pen down. “I had a conversation I didn’t expect to have. That’s all.”

“With your mother?” I asked before thinking.

His eyes flickered up to mine — not with anger, but surprise. Then something else. Something unreadable.

He didn’t answer. He simply nodded once, sliding the folder back toward me.

“Thank you, Kayna.”

His tone was polite — distant. Like a door quietly closing.

I took the folder, forcing a small smile. “If you need anything—”

“I’ll let you know,” he said gently, but firmly.

And just like that, I was dismissed.

The afternoon dragged.

I kept trying to push the unease away, but it clung stubbornly to me. I found myself glancing toward his office every few minutes — half expecting him to storm out, half hoping he’d call me in again just so I could ask what was really wrong.

Instead, it was someone else who called me in.

At exactly two-forty-five, Ava poked her head into my office. “Kayna, Mr. Alex Marshall would like to see you.”

I blinked. “Alex?”

She nodded, her eyes flicking sideways in warning. “He said it’s about coordination on a few inter-branch schedules.”

“Right,” I said, standing and smoothing my skirt, though the sudden tightness in my chest wasn’t from professionalism. There was something about Alex that always made me wary — too charming, too sure of himself. The kind of man who smiled while he calculated.

His office was on the same floor as Damian’s but tucked at the far end — newer, more minimalist, almost as if he’d carved out space to prove he belonged.

I knocked.

“Come in,” came his easy voice.

Alex Marshall looked up from behind his desk, flashing the kind of grin that could melt steel. “Kayna. The famous assistant I keep hearing about.”

I smiled politely. “Mr. Marshall.”

“Please,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Alex. ‘Mr. Marshall’ makes me sound like my father — and we’ve had enough of him running this family.”

I hesitated, then stepped forward. “Ava said you wanted to discuss scheduling?”

“Right.” He gestured for me to sit. “But don’t worry, this isn’t another grueling board task. I just wanted to… introduce myself properly.”

I sat slowly. “I appreciate that.”

His gaze lingered — too long to be casual, too direct to be professional. “You’ve been working for my brother for a few months now. I have to say, you’ve made quite the impression.”

I forced a polite smile. “I just try to do my job well.”

He chuckled softly. “That’s what I like about you. Modest. But you don’t fool me — Damian doesn’t keep people close unless they’re useful to him.”

I blinked. “Useful?”

He waved a hand. “Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s a compliment, really. You’ve managed to stick around longer than most. That says something.”

There was an undercurrent to his words — something smooth and sharp all at once. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to unsettle me or test me.

He stood, moving toward the window. “You see, my brother has always been… intense. Focused. The kind of man who forgets the world exists outside his own reflection.”

I frowned slightly. “I don’t think that’s fair.”

He turned, smirking. “No? You think you know him that well already?”

“I just know he works hard,” I said evenly.

Alex studied me for a long moment, eyes glinting with curiosity. “You’re loyal. I can see that. It’s rare.”

“I’m just professional.”

“Professional,” he repeated, his tone teasing. “Right. That’s what they all say — until professionalism starts to feel like something else.”

I stiffened. “Mr. Marshall—”

He raised a hand, smiling disarmingly. “Relax, Kayna. I’m only teasing. No need to look at me like I’ve crossed a line.”

But he had. Even his apology felt like a power play — a way to watch me react, to measure how far I could be pushed.

“I actually did want to ask about the Cosmo follow-up schedule,” I said, trying to steer the conversation back to business. “Mr. Marshall—Damian—mentioned that he’ll be meeting their board again next month.”

Alex leaned against the edge of the desk, arms folded. “Ah, yes. The Cosmo deal. A major win. I have to admit, I was surprised he let you handle so much of it.”

I lifted my chin. “He trusted me to.”

“Did he now?” His eyes flicked to my lips briefly before meeting mine again. “Well, trust is a dangerous thing in our family.”

Something in his tone made the hairs on my arms rise.

Before I could respond, there was a knock on the door — a quick double tap.

Alex’s expression flickered. “Ah. That must be the courier I asked for. Hold on a second.”

He crossed the room and opened the door just slightly — enough for me to catch a low exchange of voices, muffled but hurried.

Then, faintly, I heard something that made my blood run cold.

“It’s done. The documents will be sent tonight. He won’t see it coming.”

Alex’s voice dropped. “Make sure of that. And don’t let it trace back here.”

The door clicked shut.

When he turned back toward me, the charming smile was already back in place, smooth as ever.

“Apologies,” he said lightly. “You were saying?”

My pulse was hammering in my ears. “Nothing important. I should get back to work.”

He tilted his head. “You sure? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, standing.

He moved closer, his expression softening in mock concern. “Hey—if my brother’s giving you a hard time, you can always talk to me.”

I forced a thin smile. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

As I reached for the door handle, he added quietly, “For what it’s worth, Kayna — I like you. You’ve got good instincts. Don’t waste them on the wrong side.”

I turned, meeting his gaze. “What side would that be?”

He smiled — slow, knowing, dangerous. “You’ll see soon enough.”

I stepped out before he could say anything else, my heart thudding.

The corridor felt colder than before, the air heavier. Whatever that conversation was behind the door — whoever he was talking about — it wasn’t harmless.

And for the first time since joining Marshall & Co., I couldn’t tell if I was standing beside the right brother.