C14 Shadows of the past

Daphne

If eyes could burn holes, mine would’ve been nothing but ash by noon.

The moment I walked into the building, every conversation seemed to shift like a current. Whisper. Pause. Smile. Whisper again. By the time I made it to my new office—Antonio’s assistant’s office, technically, though it felt more like a glass fishbowl—people were already pretending not to look.

I’d never realized how loud silence could be until that morning.

My desk sat outside his private office—sleek, cold, and perfectly placed so that I was both close enough to hear the echo of his phone calls and far enough to feel invisible. It was torture by design.

The first time the door opened behind me, my hands froze on the keyboard.

“Miss Galanis.”

His voice. Calm. Controlled. My name a weapon shaped like silk.

I turned, every nerve aware of the space between us. He stood framed in the doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. The image was casual only if you didn’t know him—only if you hadn’t seen how that kind of ease hid something sharper underneath.

“Yes, Mr. Nik—Antonio,” I corrected.

His mouth twitched. “Coffee. Black. No sugar.”

He didn’t wait for me to answer, just turned and disappeared into his office again.

It took me five whole seconds to remember how to breathe. Then I grabbed my notepad and fled to the break room.

---

“You’re serious?” Irene nearly dropped her cup. “He actually speaks to you like that?”

I shrugged, pretending not to care. “He’s my boss. That’s how bosses speak.”

She leaned closer, her eyes shining with the kind of gossip that fueled her bloodstream. “Honey, he doesn’t speak to anyone. You should’ve seen Rhea this morning—she came in all high heels and attitude, and when she heard he promoted you? I thought she was going to swallow her tongue.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Exactly what I need—office politics.”

“You mean office war.” Irene grinned. “Just… keep your head down, okay? People are saying—”

“People always say things,” I cut her off gently. “I can handle it.”

She gave me a long, searching look, then sighed. “Fine. But if you start glowing mysteriously or if he starts glaring at anyone who talks to you, I’m buying popcorn.”

I rolled my eyes, though the joke sat heavy in my stomach.

Because if anyone knew how complicated it really was between Antonio and me… they’d stop whispering and start running.

---

By afternoon, my nerves had settled into a kind of uneasy rhythm. I learned the layout of his schedule, memorized his meetings, and figured out which calls he answered immediately and which ones he ignored.

But something else gnawed at me—a quiet wrongness.

Half the files in his email were encrypted, with codes I’d never seen before. There were strange delivery notes with no sender listed, marked confidential – Elysian. Once, when I walked into his office to drop off a folder, he shut his laptop so fast it made me flinch.

“Knock next time,” he said without looking at me.

“I did,” I murmured.

He didn’t answer.

The air in that office always felt thinner, like standing too close to lightning.

---

Around 5 PM, just when I thought the day was finally winding down, Rhea appeared.

She didn’t knock either. She never did. She just waltzed in—glamorous, gold hair cascading over her shoulders, perfume trailing behind her like smoke.

“Well,” she said, eyes sweeping over me from head to toe. “You must be the new assistant. How... quaint.”

I straightened. “Miss Barlos.”

Her smile was sugar and venom. “I heard Antonio handpicked you himself. How lucky for you.”

I didn’t reply. There was no safe answer to that.

She stepped closer, the click of her heels deliberate. “Just so we’re clear, he’s a very busy man. I’d hate for him to waste his time on distractions.”

“I’m just doing my job,” I said quietly.

“Of course you are.” She leaned in, her voice dropping low. “Keep it that way.”

The door to Antonio’s office opened then, and for the first time that day, I saw something flicker in his eyes—something lethal and cold.

“Rhea.” His voice was soft, dangerous. “You’re trespassing.”

She straightened immediately, mask slipping just enough for me to see irritation flash across her perfect face.

“I was just saying hello,” she said lightly. “Your assistant and I were getting acquainted.”

“I can see that.” His tone didn’t change, but the space between words felt like a warning. “Now say goodbye.”

Her smile faltered, but she turned with practiced grace. “Of course.” Then, under her breath as she passed me, she whispered, “Careful, darling. He ruins everything he touches.”

And then she was gone.

The room stayed quiet. I could feel his gaze, heavy and unreadable.

“Are you all right?” he asked finally.

The question startled me enough that I almost laughed. “You’re asking me that?”

He tilted his head, studying me the way he used to when I said something he didn’t expect. “Don’t mistake concern for sentiment, Daphne. I need you functional.”

That stung more than it should have. I nodded, throat tight. “Understood.”

He looked away first. “Good. You can leave at six. I’ll have more files for you in the morning.”

---

The building was quiet by the time I packed up. Only a few lights glowed in the upper offices. I stepped into the elevator, pressing the ground floor button, just as a hand stopped the doors from closing.

Antonio stepped inside.

Of course.

He didn’t say anything. Just stood beside me, the scent of cedar and faint cologne filling the small space. My pulse thudded so hard I was sure he could hear it.

The elevator started moving, but the air between us didn’t. It felt suspended, electric.

Finally, I said softly, “If you’re trying to punish me, you don’t have to pretend it’s professional.”

He turned his head, eyes catching mine in the dim reflection of the mirrored wall. “You think this is punishment?”

“I think it feels like one.”

His lips curved, not in amusement but something sharper. “Then maybe you still care what I think.”

The elevator dinged, saving me from having to answer.

When the doors opened, he stepped out first. “See you tomorrow, Miss Galanis.”

His voice was cool again. Distant. But as he walked away, I caught him glancing back once—just once—before disappearing into the night.

And somehow, that one look undid me more than all his words.

---