“You should be fired,” I said, letting the words hang in the air until she stiffened.
Ethan’s brows shot up. This was not what we had talked about, but I ignored him. My gaze never left hers.
“But firing you would be a waste.”
Her lips parted, just slightly, like she wasn’t sure she’d heard me right.
“You saw what no one else did,” I continued, my voice measured, low. “Not Victor. Not Stan. Hell, I missed it. That makes you dangerous, Ms. Rhodes. And I don’t like dangerous roaming unsupervised through my cubicles.”
Her pulse kicked at her throat, but she kept her chin high.
“From this moment forward, you’ll report directly to me. No cubicles. No Stan. Every detail crosses my desk first. You’ll work where I can see you, where I can keep you in line.”
Shock flickered across her face, quickly smoothed into composure, though her fingers tightened on the folder again.
“Directly… under you?”
My mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “Exactly. You’ll be assigned to an internal audit—special project. You’ll report directly to me.”
Ethan gave a low chuckle, amused. I shot him a look sharp enough to cut it off.
I leaned back, satisfied. “Consider it punishment, Ms. Rhodes. You wanted to break protocol? Fine. You’ll work under me. Every report crosses my desk first. Do we understand each other?”
Her breath shuddered out, but her voice stayed steady. “Yes, Sir.”
The words shouldn’t have hit as hard as they did. But they had.
And for the first time in years, I looked forward to coming into the office tomorrow.
Chapter 5
Mira
What the hell had just happened?
My pulse raced, my body still buzzing like it hadn’t been dismissed from the moment yet.
“Ethan, tell Elisa her services will no longer be needed. Have her talk to HR and see if we need her in another area.”
Ethan didn’t argue. He just nodded, stood, and left, his glance flicking to me once. At least I wasn’t the only one blindsided by how far off script this had gone.
“Sir…”
Mr. Reid’s jaw clenched.
“I’m not an assistant. I’m a…”
“Yes, not an assistant. You work in risk and cyber analysis. I know precisely what you do, Ms. Rhodes.”
Heat pricked at the back of my neck. My hands twitched toward each other, a nervous tick, but I forced myself to stop. He rose, fastening his jacket with deliberate precision, and moved around the desk.
“You’ll do the same thing,” he said, settling onto the edge of his desk, every line of his body precise, controlled. “You may occasionally manage my calendar. Bring coffee. Consider those peripheral.” His tone suggested these were afterthoughts.
Was he making this up as he went?
I forced myself to look up at him instead of tracking the way even his stance carried command, as if power was stitched into the seams of his perfectly tailored suit. He reached over and picked up his phone, pushing a few buttons.
“My office.”
