Jay pov
The morning sun filtered through the office windows, glinting off the polished floors. Everything should have felt normal. The coffee machines hummed, phones buzzed occasionally, and keyboards clattered with familiar rhythms.
But as I stepped into the lobby, the air felt… wrong.
The receptionist greeted me with a nervous smile, eyes flicking nervously toward the elevators. Something about her behavior tightened the pit of my stomach. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and walked past, ignoring the whispers I didn't hear but could feel.
My office smelled the same as always—clean, sterile, organized. Yet the moment I stepped in, I sensed it. The unease. The tension.
I didn't need to look at my desk to know something was off. The files I had left perfectly stacked yesterday were in disarray. A client report I had painstakingly prepared was open on my laptop. Numbers were wrong. Notes I didn't write scrawled across spreadsheets in someone else's handwriting.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. My heart hammered, but my mind focused. This was my company, my work, my responsibility. If someone was trying to sabotage me, I wouldn't let them win.
"Morning, Jay," said my assistant, her voice tight. "We… uh… we have a problem with Project X."
I raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"
She hesitated, glancing nervously at the conference room before answering. "The client is upset. They're threatening to pull out if we can't deliver a corrected proposal by the end of the day."
I closed my laptop with a sharp snap. My chest tightened—not with fear, but frustration. I had too many things to deal with already. And now someone was trying to test me.
"Who is handling this?" I asked, voice low but controlled.
"Emily… she says she tried, but some of the files were… missing," my assistant admitted.
Missing.
I froze. That word hit harder than any slap. Missing files meant sabotage. Someone had crossed a line.
"Call everyone into the conference room. Now," I said, my tone leaving no room for discussion.
The office seemed to tense even further. As I waited, I took a deep breath, letting the quiet moments ground me. This wasn't just about work. This was about control, about authority, about showing that no one could undermine me—not now, not ever.
The conference room door opened, and one by one, my employees entered, faces pale and anxious. I scanned the room carefully. Everyone looked tense. Some avoided my gaze, others shifted nervously on their feet.
I held up a hand. "Sit. Now."
The murmurs died. Silence settled like a heavy blanket.
I looked at each of them in turn. "Project X. Files missing. Client upset. Someone here thought it was okay to sabotage this company. Who?"
Eyes darted. Someone cleared their throat. "It… it wasn't me," a junior employee stammered. "I don't know what happened."
I didn't flinch. "Then you'll help me find out. Every email, every message, every step of work since yesterday—we track it all. No exceptions."
Whispers spread across the room. I didn't care.
I felt the anger rise—not the kind that makes you yell—but the sharp, icy kind that makes people listen.
"I won't let someone drag this company—and this team—down. Not while I'm in charge. Not while I'm here."
I paused, letting my gaze sweep the room. Every pair of eyes met mine. I didn't smile. I didn't soften. I didn't give them an inch.
Then my assistant spoke up, voice barely above a whisper. "Jay… the client just called again. They… they're demanding to speak with you."
I froze for a second. That wasn't just pressure. That was escalation. Someone wasn't just testing me—they were trying to see me crack.
I picked up the phone calmly. "Hello," I said, smooth, controlled, even friendly. "Yes, this is Jay. I understand. Let's see what we can do."
My fingers moved over the keyboard with precision, directing my team efficiently, delegating tasks, assigning roles. Every instruction crisp, every tone deliberate. I could feel the tension in the room dissipate slightly—not because I softened—but because I owned it.
Then the door clicked open.
And I froze.
He stepped in.
The man I didn't expect. The one who made my stomach twist in ways work never had. His expression calm, almost too calm, as if he had anticipated every move.
"Jay," he said, voice casual, but there was a weight behind it. "We need to talk."
My pulse spiked. Every instinct screamed to stay professional. To ignore. To shut down.
But the look in his eyes told me he wasn't leaving until I acknowledged him.
I straightened in my chair. "I'm working," I said sharply, voice steady. "If it's about business, speak. Otherwise—"
He smiled faintly. "It's about business. And you."
I clenched my fists under the desk. My team froze. Everyone sensed it—whatever this man's presence meant, it wasn't routine.
Before I could respond, my assistant whispered, almost fearfully, "He's… he's asking about Project X too…"
I swallowed. My focus had to remain. But my mind raced. Why now? Why him?
The man leaned casually against the edge of the conference table, eyes never leaving mine. "I hear there's been… trouble," he said. "Missing files. Angry clients. Team in chaos."
I met his gaze, refusing to flinch. "We're handling it."
"Handling it?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or are you trying to cover up something?"
I felt my jaw tighten. Someone was trying to undermine me publicly now, in front of my team.
I swallowed. Calm. Focus. Authority. I couldn't let him win.
"Everything's under control," I said, voice smooth. "We're fixing the issue. You don't need to worry."
He smirked faintly. "We'll see. Because someone isn't telling me the whole story."
The tension in the room skyrocketed. My team shifted nervously. The client's emails pinged again. The clock ticked louder than ever.
And just as I opened my mouth to assert control again, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out… a folder.
Everything I had been working on. Every single file. Every project. Every confidential client report.
He placed it gently on the table—right in front of me.
I froze. My chest tightened. My hands hovered over the folder.
And then he said softly, almost mockingly, "Now we can talk."