Chapter 11
Marcus was reviewing the quarterly projections when his office door opened.
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Elara walked in holding a white envelope. Her expression was unreadable, professional. The same face she’d worn for three years whenever she delivered bad news about delayed reports or scheduling conflicts.
“Mr. Thorne.”
“Miss Vance.”
She crossed the room and placed the envelope on his desk. “My resignation letter. Effective immediately.”
Marcus already knew. It was in the contract. Page nineteen. Employment termination clause. His fiancée couldn’t remain his assistant. People would ask questions. Wonder why the woman he supposedly loved was still taking orders from him
in meetings.
But hearing her say it out loud made something shift in his chest.
He picked up the envelope without opening it. “Understood.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
She nodded and turned to leave.
Marcus watched her walk toward the door and found himself thinking something he’d never allowed himself to think
before.
She was beautiful.
Not in the obvious way. Not like the models and actresses he’d dated who knew exactly how attractive they were and weaponized it. Elara’s beauty was quieter. Sharper. The kind that snuck up on you when you weren’t paying attention.
He’d spent three years deliberately not noticing. Kept his distance. Made her life difficult because acknowledging anything
else felt dangerous.
Now he was supposed to fall in love with her.
How did someone go from disliking a person to being in love with them? Was it even possible? Or would this entire charade fall apart the moment someone looked too closely?
She reached for the door handle.
“Elara:”
She stopped. Turned back. “Yes?”
“You’re a good assistant.” The words felt inadequate. “One of the best I’ve had.”
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Her eyebrows raised slightly. It might have been the first genuine compliment he’d given her in three years.
“Thank you.”
“Did you get the call about your makeover appointment?”
“Yes. Three PM.”
“Good.” He set the envelope aside. “Enjoy it. Make the most of it.”
She smiled. Small and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or being sincere. “I will.”
This time when she left, Marcus didn’t stop her.
He turned back to his laptop, trying to refocus on the projections. Revenue growth. Market expansion. Things that made
sense. Things he could control.
Five minutes passed.
Marcus glanced at the chair across from his desk. Elara’s bag was still there. Black leather, worn at the edges. She’d had it for at least two years. He recognized the coffee stain on the side from the morning she’d spilled her drink while juggling three different reports he’d demanded simultaneously.
She’d forgotten it.
He grabbed the bag and headed for the door. Took the elevator down to the lobby, scanning the space for her. The
reception area was busy. People moving between meetings. Assistants rushing with folders and tablets.
No Elara.
Marcus pushed through the glass doors to the compound of the office. She was halfway down the block, walking fast like
she had somewhere important to be.
“Elara!”
She didn’t hear him. Or didn’t turn around. Either way, she kept walking.
Marcus increased his pace. “Hi mama, wait up!”
The words came out before he could stop them. Louder than intended. People at the reception turned to look.
Elara stopped and spun around, surprise written all over her face.
Marcus closed the distance between them, holding up her bag. “You forgot this.”
She stared at the bag. Then at him. “Oh. Thank you.”
He didn’t hand it over immediately. Instead, he stepped closer. Close enough that anyone watching would think they were having an intimate conversation.
“We have to sell this lie for it to work,” he said quietly.
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Before she could respond, Marcus took her hand. Brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Slow. Deliberate. His eyes never leaving hers.
Her breath stopped for a while,
He reached up with his free hand and brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Let his fingers linger
against her cheek for just a second longer than necessary.
“Have fun this afternoon,” he said.
The sidewalk had gone quiet. Or maybe it just felt that way. Marcus was aware of every person who’d stopped to watch. Every office worker from Thorne Dynamics who’d followed them outside. Every passing stranger with a phone who might
take a photo.
Good.
Let them see. Let them talk. By tomorrow morning, the entire building would know Marcus Thorne was in love with his
assistant.
Elara blinked up at him, still holding her bag against her chest like a shield. “A heads–up next time would be nice.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
She shook her head, but there was something almost like amusement in her eyes. “Let the games begin then. Boyfriend.”
The word sounded strange coming from her mouth. Foreign. Like a language neither of them spoke fluently yet.
Marcus smiled. Not his usual controlled, boardroom smile. Something closer to genuine. “My driver will take you home, give him the address and he’ll pick you up too.”
He turned and walked back into the building before she could respond.
The lobby was buzzing. Assistants whispering. Security guards exchanging looks. Marcus ignored all of it and headed. straight for the elevator.
His phone buzzed before the doors closed.
Dante: “Did you just call her mama on a public street?*
Marcus: ‘Yes.*
Dante: ‘You’re either a genius or an idiot. Can’t decide which.*
Marcus pocketed his phone.
The elevator climbed. Floor after floor. When the doors opened to his office level, three assistants were gathered by the
coffee machine. They went silent the moment they saw him.
Marcus walked past them without acknowledgment.
Back in his office, he sat at his desk and stared at Elara’s resignation letter. Still unopened.
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Chapte 11
In two days, she’d be living in his penthouse. In three days, the entire city would know they were engaged.
And in eleven weeks, he’d either secure his inheritance or lose everything.
Marcus opened the envelope and read the single typed page.
*Dear Mr. Thorne,”
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*Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from the position of Executive Assistant, effective immediately. Thank
you for the opportunity to work at Thorne Dynamics.”
“Sincerely,”
“Elara Vance*
Short, Professional. No emotion. Exactly the kind of letter she’d write.
Marcus folded it and placed it in his desk drawer.
Three years of working together Three years of impossible deadlines and late nights and her never once complaining. Three years of him pushing her harder than anyone else because something about her made him want to see where her
breaking point was.
She never broke.
Not once
And now she was about to become his wife
Marcus leaned back in his chair and looked out at the city.
Somewhere out there, Elara was walking to her makeover appointment. Preparing to transform into the kind of woman who belonged on his arm at charity galas and board dinners.
He wondered if she’d still look at him the same way after. That mix of frustration and defiance that made her different from everyone else who just agreed with whatever he said.
He hoped so.
Because as much as this was a performance, as much as this was just a contract to save his company, Marcus was starting to realize something uncomfortable.
He didn’t want to pretend to be in love with a version of Elara that didn’t exist.
He wanted the real one.
The one who’d walked out of his office five times in three years when he’d pushed too far. The one who’d stood in his office
two days ago and demanded his loyalty. The one who’d looked at him in the fire exit like he was the only thing that
mattered.
His phone buzzed again.
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Dante: “Engagement announcement is ready. Sending it out Saturday morning. Try not to screw this up before then.*
Marcus typed back: “I won’t.”
He set the phone down and returned to his projections.
But the numbers didn’t hold his attention the way they usually did.
All he could think about was Elara’s face when he’d kissed her hand. The way her breath had caught. The way she’d looked
at him like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap him or kiss him back.
Two more days.
Then the performance would begin in earnest.
And Marcus had no idea if he was ready for what came next.
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