Chapter 3

Elena's POV

On Monday morning, the tension on the executive floor of Sterling Enterprises was thick enough to suffocate someone.

Every single employee had arrived half an hour early, and the air was practically humming with anxiety. Word had already spread: a new Director of Special Projects was being parachuted in today, escorted personally by Ethan Sterling himself.

At nine o'clock sharp, the executive elevator chimed with a crisp ding.

The doors slid open, and Ethan stepped out wearing a bespoke charcoal-gray suit, carrying himself with effortless dominance. Walking beside him was a woman in a cream Chanel skirt suit, a soft brown cashmere wrap draped over her shoulders.

She was stunning, but not in an intimidating way; she possessed that delicate, fragile beauty that naturally made people want to protect her. She had her head tilted up, whispering something to Ethan. He leaned down slightly to listen, a rare, genuine smile playing on his lips.

The entire open-plan office fell dead silent.

I stood behind the executive assistant desk, holding a cup of freshly brewed black coffee. It was Ethan’s morning ritual.

Ethan stopped in the center of the floor, his sharp gaze sweeping over the staff. His voice was commanding, carrying an absolute authority that left no room for debate. "Everyone, pause what you're doing for a moment. I'd like to introduce Nicole Vance, our new Director of Special Projects. And..."

He paused, not looking at anyone in particular, his eyes settling solely on Nicole. "...my fiancée."

Fiancée.

The word detonated in my ears like a bomb.

The black coffee inside the paper cup was over a hundred and ninety degrees, the blistering heat searing through the cardboard right into my palms. It burned my fingers raw, yet I felt completely numb to the pain, frozen in place like a statue.

"Good morning, everyone. It's lovely to meet you all. I'm Nicole Vance," she said with a sweet, radiant smile. Her eyes swept across the room and locked onto me behind the reception desk with deadly accuracy.

She took slow, deliberate steps toward me, the sharp clatter of her designer heels muffled only by the plush wool carpet.

"You must be Elena," Nicole said softly, her voice dripping with warmth. "Ethan talks about you all the time. He told me you're the most capable assistant he's ever had, and that you've taken wonderful care of him these past three years."

These past three years. Taken care of him. Capable assistant.

Every single syllable was a calculated strike to mark her territory; every word was a deliberate slap across my face.

I slowly set the scalding coffee cup down on the desk. My fingertips were blistered red and throbbing, but I lifted my chin and met Nicole’s thinly veiled, mocking gaze with complete composure.

"Welcome, Ms. Vance. I was simply doing my job. Caring for him is hardly the right term," I said, my voice steady, sounding like an entirely detached observer. A few feet away, Ethan cast a brief glance in my direction.

"All right, back to work, everyone. Elena, bring the project dossiers to the director's office," Ethan said, cutting the tension before turning to escort Nicole into her newly renovated vintage French office.

The rest of the morning dragged on under a suffocating cloud.

Then, right around two in the afternoon, the quiet office suddenly erupted into hushed, frantic whispers.

"Oh my God, check Twitter right now!"

"Who the hell took these photos? This is insane!"

"Wait, isn't that Elena? Has she been sleeping with Mr. Sterling behind his fiancée's back?"

I looked up from my mountain of paperwork to find my colleagues staring at me with disgust and morbid fascination.

The junior assistant at the next desk leaned over, her voice barely audible. "Elena... you really need to check Ins."

I unlocked my phone.

The number one trending topic was screaming in bold letters: #SterlingEnterprisesCEO #FiancéeReturns #SecretMistressExposed.