“Forgive me, Royal Secretary Narek,” she began, “but was there an update to CEO Rein’s schedule the rest of the secretarial staff weren’t made aware of?”
“What do you mean?” Nuri didn’t have his briefcase on him since he’d left it at the mansion, and with nothing to do with his hands, he ended up shoving them in his pockets to hide the fact he was nervous. “Where is he?”
“That’s the thing, sir. We don’t know. He hasn’t come in. We were waiting until you arrived to ask.”
Silver wasn’t the tardy sort.
“Try calling him.” Nuri sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to do it. “If you can’t reach him, try the estate number.”
“Right away, sir.” She bowed and disappeared, heading down the hall toward the room where the rest of their offices were kept. She helmed a team of five, all under Nuri’s direct command.
Since he was in charge of every department in the company, serving as the bridge between them and the CEO, he often delegated tasks between them. They weren’t privy to his entire schedule, but if he was due to arrive late or leave early for a meeting, they typically knew about it.
Refusing to be deterred from his plans, Nuri slipped the freshly printed copy of his resignation from his breast pocket and entered Silver’s office. He set the folded document on thecenter of his desk, right in front of his chair where it would be impossible to miss, and then took a look around.
Much of the interior design had been done by him. Silver had tasked him with decorating, claiming it was too frivolous a job for him to waste time on himself. The color palette, bright whites, creamy tans, and sharp blacks, paired with a mix of silver and gold features, were a stark contrast to the dark browns and crimsons of the Emperor’s room back home.
Nuri had wanted to try something different to help separate the two spaces, since prior to the completion of the building, the two of them had been forced to operate mostly from the mansion. His choice had inadvertently sparked a wave of new outfits, Silver suddenly matching his style to the room. It’d given him a colder, more sophisticated and untouchable vibe that Nuri had secretly been fond of.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to turn away.
Fifteen minutes later, Marta returned. “Sir, it seems no one can locate CEO Rein.”
Was he throwing a tantrum? Trying to make Nuri feel bad for yesterday?
“You spoke with Falc?” he asked.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “He requested that you call him immediately.”
A headache was starting to form, and Nuri waved her off. “All right. Thank you, Marta.”
Nuri sat at his desk and stared at the blank wall across from him.
He wasn’t going to call Falc.
Whatever new game the Emperor was playing, he wanted no part in it.
Instead, he’d use this time to his advantage.
After taking a moment to calm his anxiety, Nuri switched his computer on and started compiling a mass email about his impending resignation and two-week notice. He’d sent it now, while Silver was away and unable to stop him, and deal with the fallout later.
Since he’d had this in mind for over a year now, the words flowed quickly, just a couple concise paragraphs informing every one of his departure and thanking them for all of their hard work over the years.
It came so easily, that when it came time to hit send, his hesitation caught him unawares. His finger hovered over the button. One tiny press, and this could all be over. That’s all it would take. Sure, Silver could try to block it, could deny it or refuse, but this way everyone at the company would know Nuri wanted to quit. It’d make it that much harder for Silver, if nothing else.
So why couldn’t he do it?
It wasn’t like he had nowhere else to go. Yes, change was scary, but it was necessary. If Nuri wanted a set of different circumstances for himself, he had to do this. He had to let go of the past and the things holding him back. As much as he’d poured his soul into Rein Inc., that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t stay.
“Don’t be so emotional,” he murmured to himself. This was hardly his only obstacle. His name was still on the No Fly list, and he’d need to deal with that. Then there was retrieving all of his important documents from Rein estate—he’d even left without his license and driven this morning anyway.
This fear was unnecessary.
“You just need time.” That was all. There was a difference between fantasy and reality. He may have dreamed of this day, but that didn’t make it any less difficult to actually live through it. To give up on the company he’d help visualize.
For years now, his very life had been this. Work. The office. The people he interacted with within these walls.
It made sense that he was vacillating. Uncertainty was a potent emotion.
