Emma’s POV

I stare at the message on my phone for what feels like an hour.

You forgot your notebook.

I read it again. And again.

Don’t worry. I have it.

My hands are cold as I hold the phone tighter. Then the final message glows on the screen.

You should be more careful, Miss Carter.

I swallow hard, staring at the words like they might disappear if I wait long enough. But they don’t. They sit there, daring me to answer.

I don’t.

Instead, I tuck my phone under my pillow and stand up quietly. Liam is still asleep on the couch, breathing softly under the thin blanket. I watch him for a few seconds, feeling something heavy settle in my chest. This job is for him. I tell myself that over and over.

I go into my room and close the door behind me. My bag is still hanging on the chair, looking innocent. But when I open it, my notebook is gone.

I didn’t even notice.

How did he…?

A soft buzz from my phone makes me jump. I grab it fast, hoping Liam didn’t hear. It’s another message.

Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.

I don’t reply. I just turn the phone off and throw it on the bed like it’s burning me.

Morning comes too fast.

The sun filters through the thin curtains as I drag myself out of bed. My mind races through a hundred questions as I get dressed in a clean blouse and black skirt. Liam is already up, sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and a notebook open beside him.

“You’re up early,” I say, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

He shrugs. “Had a test today.”

I lean against the counter, watching him. His hair is messy, and his eyes are tired. He’s trying, though. That’s all I can ask for.

“Do you have enough for lunch?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. Mrs. Collins gave me some extra snacks yesterday.”

Mrs. Collins is our neighbor. She has three kids and not much money, but she always finds a way to help.

“I’ll bring something home later,” I promise.

He glances at me, his mouth a thin line. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” My voice is firm, and he doesn’t argue.

At the office, Marissa gives me a once-over as I step off the elevator.

“You’re early,” she says.

“I like to be prepared,” I answer.

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. I settle at my desk and go through Alexander’s schedule. Meetings, calls, a lunch with a potential investor. Nothing too crazy. Except for the red circle around 4 p.m.

Personal Appointment.

I frown. There’s no location. No notes. Just the time.

Before I can think about it more, his door opens.

“Inside,” he says.

I grab my tablet and follow him in. He’s already at his desk, flipping through papers.

“You’ll be taking notes,” he says without looking up.

“Yes, Mr. Cole.”

He lifts his gaze then. His eyes are cold, but there’s something else behind them. Curiosity? Amusement? I can’t tell.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks suddenly.

I hesitate. “Yes.”

“You didn’t answer my message.”

“I didn’t think it needed a reply.”

He leans back in his chair. “Smart.”

I keep my face blank. “What would you like me to do today?”

He taps the folder in front of him. “We’re meeting with a client at ten. He’s difficult. Pay attention.”

“I always do.”

He watches me for a second longer, then nods. “Good.”

The meeting is tense from the start.

The client, Mr. Harris, is a balding man in his fifties with a red face and a voice that sounds like sandpaper. He talks too loud, cuts people off, and treats everyone like they’re beneath him.

Except Alexander.

Alexander sits calm and still, letting Harris talk himself in circles before cutting him off with one sharp sentence that leaves the man blinking in surprise.

I take notes quickly, glancing up only when Harris slams his hand on the table.

“This isn’t what we agreed to!” Harris barks.

Alexander doesn’t flinch. “It’s what you signed.”

Harris sputters, flipping through the papers in front of him. “I… I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Alexander says smoothly. “But I’ll give you time to catch up.”

There’s a long silence. Harris looks like he’s going to explode, but instead, he gathers his papers and storms out without another word.

I stare at the door as it closes behind him.

“Is it always like that?” I ask quietly.

Alexander leans back in his chair. “Sometimes it’s worse.”

I look at him. “And you never flinch?”

His mouth twitches at the corner. “Never.”

I believe him.

At lunch, Alexander surprises me.

“We’re eating out,” he says, grabbing his coat.

“I didn’t schedule—”

“It wasn’t scheduled,” he interrupts. “Come on.”

I follow him down to the car, confused but not about to argue. We drive in silence, but he glances at me once or twice like he’s trying to figure something out.

The restaurant is small, tucked between two bigger buildings. It smells like fresh bread and coffee. The kind of place you’d never expect him to go.

“Here?” I ask.

“It’s quiet,” he says simply.

We sit by the window. He orders for both of us without asking what I want, but when the food comes, it’s exactly what I would’ve picked. Grilled chicken, salad, water with lemon.

I give him a look. “How did you—?”

“It’s my job to know things,” he replies.

“I thought it was my job.”

He smiles then, just a little. “Maybe we’ll share.”

We eat in silence for a while. The food is good, and for a few minutes, I almost forget who I’m sitting with.

Then he speaks again. “Your brother.”

I freeze. “What about him?”

“He’s in school.”

I nod slowly. “Yes.”

“You take care of him.”

I stare at my plate. “He’s family.”

Alexander doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Family can be a weakness.”

“Or a reason to fight harder,” I say before I can stop myself.

His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I see something shift there. Approval? Maybe.

“You’re stubborn,” he says.

“I’ve been called worse.”

He laughs quietly. It’s short but real.

When we finish eating, he leaves a big tip and holds the door for me on the way out. I almost trip because it’s so unexpected.

“You’re full of surprises,” I mutter.

“You have no idea,” he says.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur. Meetings, emails, more folders. By the time three-thirty rolls around, I’m exhausted. But there’s still that red circle on the calendar.

At four, Alexander stands. “Come.”

I grab my tablet again and follow him to the elevator.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer.

We end up in a part of town I’ve never been to. It’s older here. Brick buildings, narrow streets. He parks the car himself, ignoring the valet.

“Stay close,” he says.

We walk into a building with a faded sign. It smells like old wood and paint. Inside, it’s quiet. A woman behind the counter looks up and smiles.

“Mr. Cole,” she says. “He’s waiting.”

We go down a hall and into a room where an older man sits behind a desk. He stands when we enter.

“Alex,” he says. “Good to see you.”

Alexander shakes his hand. “James.”

The man glances at me but doesn’t ask who I am. He just gestures to the chairs.

They talk about something called “the estate” and “arrangements.” I try to keep up, taking notes even though I’m not sure what it’s all about.

After a while, James looks at me. “How long have you worked for him?”

“Two days,” I say.

He chuckles. “And you haven’t run yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Good,” he says. “He needs someone who doesn’t run.”

Alexander’s expression tightens, but he says nothing.

On the way back to the car, I finally ask. “What was that about?”

“Personal business,” he replies.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I say quickly.

“I don’t,” he agrees.

But then he glances at me. “It was about my father’s estate. He died last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “Don’t be. We weren’t close.”

I nod, but I can’t help feeling there’s more to it than that.

That night, I get home later than usual. Liam is on the couch again, headphones in, tapping on his phone.

“Hey,” I say.

He pulls out one earbud. “How was work?”

“Busy.” I sit down beside him. “But I brought you something.”

His eyes light up when I hand him the takeout box. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t forget it.”

We eat in front of the tiny TV. For a little while, it feels normal.

Until my phone buzzes again.

You missed a file on my desk. Correct it before morning.

I sigh and stand. “I have to finish something.”

Liam waves me off. “Go be a boss.”

I laugh softly and go to my room. As I work, I can’t stop thinking about Alexander. About his cold grey eyes. About the way he watches everything.

About how he knew about Liam.

And I wonder how far he’ll go to get what he wants.

Or if I’m already giving it to him without even knowing.