Chapter 2
849words
The news rippled through the company like a stone thrown into still water. The executive floor—hell, the entire headquarters—was in shock.
Chief Secretary Sterling—perpetually proper, unfailingly reliable, seemingly incapable of error—the company's rock-solid foundation—was actually leaving?
Rumors flew wild: Had she been poached by competitors? Had she finally clashed with Grayson? Or—as some whispered—was she retiring to become a full-time wife? After all, speculation about their unusually close relationship had circulated for years.
Garrett ignored the gossip. Following his plan, he promoted a young woman named Vivian Linden from the secretarial pool to temporarily handle some of Sylvia's duties.
Vivian was sharp and competent—one of Sylvia's protégés. Garrett considered it a safe choice.
On the first day of her notice period, Sylvia arrived precisely on time. She began methodically organizing files and creating handover documents as if nothing had changed.
Garrett watched coldly from the sidelines, but the unease in his gut intensified. Sylvia was too calm—unnervingly calm.
The first real trouble arrived sooner than expected.
At 10 a.m., a crucial board meeting was scheduled regarding the Horizon Tech acquisition. Five minutes before it started, Garrett needed the final confidentiality agreement for his presentation.
"Vivian, get me the Horizon confidentiality agreement," Garrett ordered without looking up.
Vivian hurried to comply, rummaging through the filing cabinet before her voice took on a panicked edge: "Mr. Grayson… is it the blue folder labeled 'Horizon-Final'? I can't seem to find it…"
Garrett frowned. "What do you mean it's not there? Secretary Sterling definitely filed it. Look harder!"
Vivian searched frantically, practically turning the cabinet inside out, her voice verging on tears: "Mr. Grayson, it's really not here… Maybe Secretary Sterling put it somewhere else?"
Garrett's patience snapped. He stood abruptly and strode to the filing cabinet himself.
Staring at the meticulously organized yet overwhelming array of folders, he felt a strange irritation building.
He was used to simply asking for documents and having Sylvia place them in his hand seconds later. He'd never needed to know where files were kept or how they were organized.
As he rifled through the files himself, his growing urgency only increased the chaos. The labels blurred before his eyes while board members filed into the meeting room one by one.
"Useless!" Garrett hissed, a vein throbbing at his temple. This loss of control infuriated him. He took a deep breath, struggling to contain his anger, and barked at Vivian: "Get Sylvia! Now!"
Sylvia appeared promptly in the doorway, a notebook with annotations in her hand. "You needed me, Mr. Grayson?"
"Where's the Horizon confidentiality agreement? The meeting's about to start!" Garrett's voice barely contained his fury.
Sylvia's calm gaze swept over the disheveled cabinet before landing on an inconspicuous blue binder on the third bookshelf. Its label was slightly darker than the others, with "Horizon-Key" written in small, neat handwriting.
She walked over, retrieved it effortlessly, and handed it to Garrett.
"Mr. Grayson, it's right here. I keep all core protocols for active projects in this separate section with special labels to prevent confusion." Her voice remained perfectly steady, as if she'd just answered the most routine question.
Garrett snatched the folder and flipped it open, confirming it was exactly what he needed.
A toxic blend of embarrassment, irritation, and the faintest trace of shame washed over him. His outburst, contrasted with Sylvia's composure, now seemed utterly ridiculous.
He opened his mouth to speak but could only manage a stiff command: "Next time, make these filing systems clear during handover!"
With that, he grabbed the folder and strode toward the meeting room.
Sylvia watched him go, her gaze falling on the disheveled cabinet as her eyes dimmed momentarily. Without her, he couldn't even find a single document. And this was just the beginning.
She silently walked over and began reorganizing the scattered files. Vivian stood nearby, her face etched with guilt: "Secretary Sterling, I'm so sorry, I—"
"It's fine," Sylvia interrupted, her tone gentle yet distant. "I'll document the filing system in detail in the handover manual. You can return to your other duties."
Vivian scurried away, visibly relieved.
Sylvia stood alone before the towering cabinet, methodically returning each file to its place. These cold papers documented every expansion of his business empire—and every late night, every exhausting moment of her seven-year journey.
She once believed that helping build his empire would bring her closer to his heart.
Now she understood she was merely the most efficient—yet ultimately replaceable—component in his machine.
After the board meeting, Garrett returned to his office, his mood unimproved despite the meeting's success. Seeing the perfectly restored filing cabinet and Sylvia's quiet profile as she worked, he felt a small sense of control returning.
But deep down, the crack created by those "missing files" remained impossible to ignore.
He told himself this was merely a hiccup—Vivian wasn't familiar with the system yet. Once the handover was complete, everything would return to normal.
But life's collapses often arrive more suddenly than workplace failures.
