Chapter 5 - The Echoes of Ethan
Z
"Marcus," Adrian said, his voice instantly dropping to a sub-zero temperature. "Is there something you need, or are you just practicing your loitering?"
Marcus smirked, leaning slightly closer. "Just making the rounds. Though I must say, the optics of the CEO monopolizing the agency's most... favored employee might feed the gossip mill. We wouldn't want HR to get concerned about workplace impropriety."
It was a blatant threat. My heart hammered against my ribs.
Adrian didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. "If you ever speak to her in that tone again, Marcus, you won't just lose your job. I will personally ensure you never work in this city again. Am I understood?"
Marcus swallowed hard, the smirk vanishing. He gave a jerky nod and practically fled toward the coat check.
I exhaled a shaky breath. "You shouldn't have done that. Now he really will go to HR."
"Let him," Adrian said softly. He looked at me, the harshness fading from his face, replaced by an intensity that made my breath catch. "I am tired of pretending I don't care about what happens to you."
The ballroom around us seemed to blur. The music, the clinking glasses, the chatter of a hundred ambitious climbers—it all faded into white noise.
"Adrian..." I warned, stepping back. "I have a daughter. I have a career I fought tooth and nail for. I can't be part of an office scandal."
"This isn't a scandal," he said, taking a step forward to close the distance I had just created. "This is me realizing that my office has been dead quiet since your daughter left it. And realizing that I've been looking for excuses to be in the same room as you for months."
Panic and something dangerously close to hope warring in my chest. "You're my boss."
"For now."
I stared at him. "What does that mean?"
"It means I submitted my resignation to the board this morning."
The floor felt as though it had dropped out from under me. "You did what? Why?"
"Because I've spent my life building wealth, and I realized last week, sitting on a carpet arguing over wooden blocks with a six-year-old, that I am entirely bankrupt everywhere else." He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the silk of my shoulder. "I'm starting a boutique firm. And I want you to run the creative division. Not as an employee. As a partner."
May you like
My mind short-circuited. "Adrian, I can't just leave. I need stability for Mia."
"I know," he said softly. "I'm not asking for an answer tonight. I'm asking you to think about it. And..." He hesitated, a vulnerability crossing his features that I had never seen before. "I'm asking if I can take you and Mia to the park on Sunday. To look at the trees. Not the buildings."
