Chapter Eleven
The cab slowed to a stop in front of Maison de la Croix. The glass tower loomed over Kairen like a judgmental god, sun glinting off its polished surface as though daring him to walk inside. He smoothed down his shirt, tugged at the hem of his jacket—minimal, sharp, nothing flashy but still him. He might not have wealth stitched into his clothes, but he carried himself like he did, head tilted just so, stride measured, the kind of quiet aesthetic that said bitch, I tried.
His phone pressed to his ear.
"Relax," Amara's voice purred on the other end, playful but firm. "You got this. Remember what we said yesterday—do your job, avoid him. That's it."
Kairen exhaled, lips twitching into the smallest smile. "Yeah… yeah. Thanks, bitch."
"Always. Now go be cute and professional or whatever."
He hung up just as the glass doors reflected his image back at him. For half a second, he stared—like if he could convince himself he wasn't trembling inside, maybe it would stick.
"Morning, sweetheart."
The voice broke through his thoughts. Ms. Jo was at the entrance, broom in hand, sweeping with a rhythm that almost sounded like whistling. She looked him up and down, nodding at his put-together outfit. "Well, at least you look alive. You okay?"
Kairen offered her a polite smile, quick, practiced. "I'm fine."
He kept walking, clutching his bag a little tighter.
Ms. Jo squinted at his back, muttering as she resumed her sweeping. "Mm-hm. Fine, my ass. Pretty boy thinks he can fool me."
And just like that, the heavy glass doors shut behind him. The day had begun.
Kairen pushed through the revolving doors with his bag clutched like it was a shield. His own voice looped in his head, shaky but determined.
I got this. I got this. He's not going to get to me. Not this time.
He squared his shoulders, muttering under his breath, It's a job. Just a job. He can't smash my head into the lockers anymore. He can't chase me down the hallway. He can't—
Kairen stopped himself, pressing his lips together. Okay, maybe he could. But this is an office building. He'd get arrested for that… right?
He let out a bitter little laugh that sounded more like a cough and quickened his pace.
"Morning!" Julian's voice cut across the lobby as he adjusted his satchel and set some files down on his desk.
Kairen blinked, startled, then forced a polite smile and waved. A loud hiss tore through the air—Elodie, perched at her desk with her nails gleaming like tiny blades, was already glaring at him.
"Morning," Kairen said anyway, nodding to her and the others who offered smiles. He was trying—God, he was trying.
Julian crossed over, concern etched in his calm face. "Hey. About yesterday—you left pretty suddenly. Everything okay?"
Kairen shifted, his fingers worrying at the strap of his bag. "Wasn't feeling well," he admitted quietly.
Julian nodded knowingly. "I figured. Don't worry, I signed you out so it didn't look bad."
Kairen blinked in surprise. "You… did?"
"Of course." Julian offered a small, reassuring smile. "Just take care of yourself, yeah? Meds, rest. And if you're free tonight, maybe I could take you out to dinner? Help you settle in."
Kairen's lips parted, caught off guard. He didn't quite know what to say, so he smiled faintly and nodded. "Thanks, Julian. Really."
He turned and started down the corridor toward his office, heart still jittering but just a little lighter.
Behind him, Julian watched, a small, unreadable smile tugging at his mouth.
"Hey!" Elodie hissed louder this time, snapping him out of it. He turned toward her, brows raised.
She squinted, leaned across her desk, and dropped her voice to a whisper that still managed to sound theatrical. "Don't tell me you have feelings for the newbie."
Julian said nothing—just blinked at her, neutral, calm as ever.
Elodie froze, mouth falling open in a gasp so dramatic it could've won her an Oscar.
Kairen slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open to his office.
The space still smelled new, like polished wood and faint varnish, as if it hadn't been claimed yet. He dropped his bag on the desk, tugged out the folded schedule notes, and flattened them with his palm.
His eyes traced the neat handwriting.
First task of the day: confirm the boss has checked in.
Second: prepare for his ten o'clock meeting.
He let the paper fall back against the desk and leaned both hands on it, breathing through the weight pressing at his chest. The word boss sat there like a curse. He knew exactly who it meant.
"Okay," he muttered under his breath, forcing his voice steady. "It's just work. Just a job. People do this every day and survive."
He glanced at the billboard pinned against the wall. Ten o'clock meeting, no room for delay. His fingers tightened on the edge of the desk before he grabbed the notes, tucked them under his arm, and turned toward the door.
The hallway outside buzzed faintly, phones ringing, shoes clipping the marble. Kairen walked past, keeping his stride brisk, controlled. Still, with each step toward the elevators, his body grew tighter, his stomach heavier. The numbers ticking upward in his head—456, the highest floor made it feel like he was climbing toward the mouth of something that had been waiting for him all along.
He pressed the elevator button, his reflection staring back from the mirrored doors. His lips were pale, eyes a touch too wide. He swallowed, squared his shoulders, and whispered almost to himself:
"It's time."
The doors slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped inside, carrying his dread upward.
----
The elevator chimed, its polished doors sliding open with a sound too delicate for the storm in Kairen's chest. He stepped out onto the top floor, shoes sinking into carpet so plush it muffled even his hesitation. Everything up here felt different—quieter, more rarefied—as though the air itself was reserved for people who could afford to breathe it.
Ahead, the doors of 456 loomed like the mouth of something patient and waiting. Just as he was about to approach, the handle turned from the inside and a small procession spilled out—men in dark suits, agents or associates, all with that untouchable air of business carved into their faces. Kairen bowed slightly as they passed, his greeting polite but barely audible. None of them lingered on him; they walked with purpose, and soon the corridor was empty. The office was vacant now. Only him remained inside.
Kairen's throat tightened. His steps slowed as he neared the door, his ears pricking at the sound bleeding through the crack: Sebastian's voice. It rolled low and smooth, deliberate in tone, like silk drawn across steel. He was talking numbers, investments, profit margins, the kind of language that built empires. And for a fleeting second, Kairen's instincts screamed at him to turn away.
So he did. He pivoted sharply, almost grateful for the excuse to retreat. His heart pounded as he walked, each step taking him further from the threshold. He could pretend, for just a little longer, that he didn't have to face him—that he could breathe without the weight of those eyes pinning him down.
But then came the guilt. Heavy. Unforgiving.
His mother's weary smile.
His sister's hopeful laughter.
The bills stacked like small mountains.
The truth was brutal: no one else was going to fix this for him. His family couldn't afford for him to run. His life couldn't afford it. And Sebastian Cross, devil or not, was the gatekeeper to all of it now.
Kairen stopped mid-stride. His lips pressed tight, his jaw shifting with the faintest tremor. He let out a breath, pointed his mouth into a grim little nod, and turned back. Each step was slower now, deliberate. He didn't need to like it. He just needed to survive it.
When his knuckles rapped lightly against the wood, the voice inside stopped. Then came the reply—calm, sharp, commanding:
"Come in."
His stomach lurched. The handle was cool beneath his fingers, steady where he was not. He twisted it, the latch clicking like the sound of inevitability. The door gave, just a fraction, and the space beyond seemed to breathe him in.
Kairen swallowed. His pulse thundered in his ears. He was stepping in. He was stepping in!! .....