The morning at Umbrella was draped in a silver light that felt more like a sanctuary than a corporate headquarters. Outside, Manhattan was a frantic tapestry of noise and steel, but thirty floors up, the world moved with a rhythmic grace. Glass walls reflected the shifting clouds, and the musical hum of the climate control was the only heartbeat the office needed.
Aryan sat at the head of the mahogany table, his attention momentarily held by a digital report, though his posture was relaxed. A mug of coffee sat before him, the steam long since vanished, but he hadn't seemed to mind.
Across from him, Wanda was curled into her chair, her legs tucked beneath her in a way that felt entirely too comfortable for a workplace. She wasn't looking at her phone; she was looking at him, her gaze lingering a second longer than was strictly professional before she caught herself.
Sharon Carter stood by the window, her jacket draped over the back of a chair. She looked out at the skyline, the sharp lines of her profile softened by the morning sun. When she turned back toward the table, there was a familiar warmth in her eyes that she reserved only for this room.
"You know," Sharon said, sliding into the seat next to Aryan and leaning an arm on the table, "I think I'm actually starting to get used to your obsession with quiet. I almost didn't turn on the radio in the car this morning. I thought, 'No, Aryan wouldn't approve of the noise.'"
Aryan chuckled, finally setting his tablet aside. "I don't 'disapprove' of noise, Sharon. I just think silence is better for cognitive flow. Besides, the city provides enough soundtracks for all of us."
Wanda smiled, resting her chin in her hand as she watched the exchange. "It's not just the quiet. It's the way everything here just... works. I spent three hours at my old job just trying to get the printer to recognize my existence. Here, I walk into the room and the files are already waiting." She paused, her voice softening. "It makes it very easy to focus on the work. And the company."
Sharon smirked, glancing between the two of them. "It is efficient. I'll give you that. I made it through the lobby, up the elevator, and to this table without hitting a single snag. It's like the building is rolled in velvet."
"It's just good architecture, Sharon," Aryan said.
"Is it?" Sharon asked. She leaned a little closer into his space, a casual move that felt practiced and comfortable. "Even the traffic seems to be on your side. I hit every green light on the way in. I was actually early. Do you know how much that messes with a girl's reputation?"
Wanda laughed, a melodic sound. "I had the same thing. I thought I was dreaming. No sirens, no gridlock. Just a straight shot. It's almost like the city clears a path for Umbrella."
"Maybe the city just knows that if it delays you, you'll come in here and look at me with that judgmental 'Agent' stare," Aryan joked.
"I don't have a judgmental stare," Sharon replied, though she didn't move away. "I have a 'highly observant' stare. There's a difference."
The conversation drifted easily into the small, mundane details of their day—the shared rhythm of people who didn't just work together, but truly liked one another. They talked about the new project deadlines and the strange way the internal schedules seemed to align perfectly, avoiding any of the usual corporate friction.
"I noticed the quarterly projections were finished ahead of time," Wanda said, her eyes bright as she looked at Aryan. "The data was so organized it felt like art. I actually enjoyed reading it, which is a sentence I never thought I'd say."
"I like things to be clear," Aryan said simply. "Complexity for the sake of complexity is just a waste of time."
Sharon tapped her fingers rhythmically against the table. "Everything here is clear, Aryan. That's the thing. I've worked in a lot of high-stakes environments, and there's always a 'mess.' Someone forgets a passcode, a server overheats, a meeting runs over. But here? It's pristine. It's like a clock that never needs winding."
Wanda nodded, stirring her tea slowly. "It's unusual for a company this new. Most places are still finding their feet. We feel like we've been running for a hundred years." She looked around the polished suite. "Even the internal systems... they feel responsive. I was looking for a specific file from the Spencer estate archives, and before I could even finish the search string, there it was. Top of the list."
Sharon's smile grew a bit more thoughtful. "And the security logs. I took a peek this morning. No ghost pings, no unauthorized attempts to bridge the firewall. It's the most secure network I've ever seen, and I've seen some heavy hitters." She paused, her eyes searching Aryan's. "It's too clean, Aryan. In a good way, sure, but it's definitely not standard."
Aryan didn't flinch under their combined scrutiny. He simply took a sip of his coffee, his expression one of calm, unbothered confidence. "Good design isn't a mystery, Sharon. It's just the result of knowing exactly what you want the end result to be."
Wanda and Sharon exchanged a glance—a silent communication between two women who had grown very adept at reading the man between them. They didn't push him further; the comfort of the morning was too pleasant to break with an interrogation.
"Well," Sharon said, standing up and grabbing her jacket with a wink. "If 'good design' is the reason I have time for a second cup of coffee before the board meeting, I'm a fan."
Wanda stood as well, smoothing out her skirt, her eyes lingering on Aryan as she walked toward the door. "I'll get started on the migration manifest. If it's as 'well-designed' as everything else, I should be done by lunch."
Aryan watched them go, the soft click of the door leaving him in the peaceful, silver silence of his empire. He smiled to himself, a quiet, knowing expression that never reached the corporate files.
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