Silver Adams had learned long ago that silence could be louder than words.
That morning, the office of Cole Media & Publishing buzzed with a low, restless energy. It followed her through the corridors, lingered behind polite smiles, and curled into half-finished sentences that stopped the moment she passed.
She pretended not to notice.
She always did.
At her desk, she focused on sorting manuscripts and scheduling meetings, keeping her head down and her movements precise. But no matter how hard she tried to drown it out, she could feel it—the weight of attention that had not been there before.
"She's been going to the executive floor a lot lately," someone murmured behind her.
Silver's fingers tightened around a folder.
Another voice followed, softer but sharper. "Maybe she's found a way to move up faster."
Heat crept up her neck.
She didn't turn around. She didn't defend herself. She refused to give rumors the power of her reaction.
But they hurt all the same.
Later that day, Silver was called into a small editorial meeting. She sat quietly at the edge of the table, taking notes as senior editors discussed upcoming releases.
Every so often, she felt someone glance her way.
When the meeting ended, one of the editors pulled her aside.
"You're doing well," the woman said, tone neutral. "Just… be mindful of how often you're seen upstairs."
Silver's stomach dropped.
"I'm only there when I'm asked," she replied quickly.
"I know," the editor said. "But perception matters."
Silver nodded, even though her chest ached.
Perception always mattered more than truth.
That afternoon, Silver worked late again, determined to prove that her effort—not proximity—defined her place in the company. The office had emptied when she finally stood to stretch, exhaustion settling into her bones.
"Silver."
She turned.
Raymond stood a few steps away, his expression serious.
"May I speak with you?" he asked.
She hesitated, then nodded.
They stepped into a quiet conference room. The glass walls felt exposing, even though no one else was around.
"You've been uncomfortable today," Raymond said.
She stiffened. "I'm fine."
"You're not," he replied gently. "And I don't like that I might be the reason."
Her throat tightened.
"There are rumors," she admitted. "I don't want people thinking I'm here because of you."
Raymond's jaw clenched.
"That's unacceptable," he said firmly. "You've earned every place you stand."
"Not everyone believes that," she whispered.
Raymond took a breath, clearly choosing his words carefully.
"Then we need to be even more careful," he said. "For your sake."
The words stung more than she expected.
"So… distance?" she asked.
"Boundaries," he corrected. "Not because I want them—but because I respect you."
She nodded slowly, fighting the ache in her chest.
"I just want to be seen for my work," she said. "Not… this."
"You will be," Raymond said quietly. "I'll make sure of it."
The next few days were harder.
Raymond kept his word. He limited their interactions to necessary business, kept meetings formal, and spoke to her only in group settings.
Silver told herself this was the right thing.
But it felt like punishment.
She missed the quiet understanding. The unspoken connection. The way he had once looked at her as if she mattered beyond her job title.
One evening, she stayed late again, finishing a manuscript review. As she packed up her bag, she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned, expecting security.
Instead, she saw Raymond.
"You should go home," he said.
"So should you," she replied softly.
A familiar exchange—but heavier this time.
"I wanted to check on you," he admitted. "I know this hasn't been easy."
"It's fine," she said. "I can handle whispers."
"I wish you didn't have to."
Their eyes met, the silence between them thick with things unsaid.
For a moment, Silver wondered what would happen if she closed the distance between them. If she stopped being careful.
But she stayed where she was.
"Goodnight, Mr. Cole," she said finally.
Raymond nodded. "Goodnight, Silver."
At home, Silver lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
She had wanted love that felt safe.
She hadn't expected love that felt complicated.
And yet, even through the whispers and the distance, one truth remained impossible to ignore:
Raymond Cole was not the kind of man who treated people as disposable.
Across the city, Raymond stood alone in his office, the lights of Los Angeles flickering beyond the glass.
He had built his empire knowing how to control narratives.
But for the first time, he realized—protecting Silver meant risking his own heart.
And that was a story he wasn't sure he was ready to write.