“Sir, please.”She tried it too softly at first—“Sir, please”—and the words hovered, easy to ignore. So she tried again, firmer. “Sir. Please.”Cassian Vane stood with his back to her, arms crossed, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window. His suit was immaculate, his silence colder than any reprimand. Eden’s fingers tightened around the stack of files in her hands. The email printout trembled like a leaf in her grip.“They said I violated protocol,” she began, voice racing. “But I didn’t. I was assigned to the filings channel—someone mislabeled it, I thought it was for training—”He didn’t turn.“I didn’t access private folders,” she pressed on. “I flagged the discrepancies and reported it. That’s what the handbook says to do—”Cassian drew in one slow breath. “The report says you mishandled proprietary data and tried to leak it externally.”“What? No.” She shook her head so hard her ponytail swung. “I saved the document to drafts so I could double-check. I never sent anything. I never left the building. I didn’t look at contact sheets or confidential memos.”He finally spun, face unreadable. “It doesn’t matter.”Her heart lurched. “It does matter.” She took a step forward. “I followed procedure. Someone set me up—I swear I don’t know who or why, but—”“You’re an intern,” he cut in, voice flat. “And you’re a liability.”That stopped her. The word scraped across her chest. “I’m not—”“You’re dismissed from the program.”She felt her world tilt. “No. Please.” She lifted her free hand—trembling, pleading. “This internship is everything. If it goes on my record—if I lose it—I won’t get another chance. I’m on scholarship. I can’t afford to move. I don’t even have a safety net. Please, just review the files. If you read them—”Cassian’s gaze flicked to her shaking hand, then back to her face. Something passed in his eyes: recognition, discomfort, regret. But only for a heartbeat.He picked up his phone. “Security to the twelfth floor. Escort for Miss Rivera.”Her stomach dropped. The files slipped. She righted them. “Sir—”He tapped his desk. She backed toward the door. “Your escort will help you gather belongings.”Silence stretched and froze around her. It wasn’t just cold. It was erasure, like he’d wiped her existence clean before her feet even hit the marble.She didn’t protest. She didn’t cry. She simply walked out, head high, clutching those files as if they were lifelines.---She arrived in her new office—present day—through the same glass doors that once let security drag her out. The doors whispered open. She stepped in without ceremony.Everything gleamed: touch-sensitive lighting, tinted glass walls, a sculpted desk angled toward the skyline. It was a suite worthy of his VPs. Adrien had handed her the keys without explanation. Cassian’s only instruction: “Make sure she has everything she needs.”She didn’t trust it. She didn’t want it. She crossed the room and looked out at the city, the buildings like silent witnesses.He hadn’t apologized. He didn’t need to. He’d given her full authority over the acquisitions audit, tripled her rate, cleared her of every policy roadblock.All with the gentleness of a man trying to patch a gunshot wound with silk.The door eased open behind her.“Did you review the Morland expansion figures?” she asked without turning.“I did,” he replied, voice even.“And?”He stepped into her office, closing the door. “The vendor pricing was a shell. You were right.”She held her breath. “So I’m not a liability this time?”His eyes softened slightly. “I was wrong five years ago.”She spun around. “No.” Her voice shook—not with fear, but anger. “You weren’t anything. That was the problem. You didn’t care enough to be wrong.”He took a breath. “I—”She cut him off, voice rising. “I pleaded with you in that office, wearing a blazer with a coffee stain I couldn’t afford to dry-clean. I begged you because this was everything I had. Do you remember that?”He closed his eyes. “Yes.”She shook her head. “Don’t pretend now. Don’t try to fix it with corner offices and skyline views.”She turned back to the city and raised her voice so that it carried in the quiet room. “I’m here because I earned it. I’m staying because you owe me the platform to build what I should’ve been building five years ago.”Silence fell. The hum of the building became deafening.Cassian’s voice dropped, low and cautious. “And if I want more than that?”She didn’t flinch. “Then earn it.”He nodded once. “I will.”She swallowed. “There’s one thing you need to understand. I’m not here to make you look good. I’m here to protect this company from people who think power gives them the right to silence anyone smart enough to challenge them.”He met her eyes. “Understood.”She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Good. Because I’m done begging.”He stepped forward and held out a slim folder. “Your first assignment: draft new audit protocols by Monday. Full autonomy. No overrides.”She took the folder, her fingers brushing his. “By Monday,” she repeated.He watched her open the door again. “Welcome back, Eden.”She paused in the frame, looking at him where he stood in the heart of his empire. Then she smiled—slow, dangerous, triumphant.“Thank you for the welcome,” she said. “Now watch me work.”And with that, she walked out, files in hand, ready to claim every ounce of the opportunity he’d tried to take from her.