C4 The promotion

Daphne

The rest of the day was a blur.

The moment I stepped out of Antonio’s office, my legs threatened to give out. I somehow made it to the elevator, gripping the railing as if the ground might swallow me whole. The glass walls reflected a stranger — pale, wide-eyed, a little broken.

By the time I reached my floor, news had already spread. Gossip in this place moved faster than light.

“Irene,” I hissed as I slid into my chair.

Her eyes were already as wide as saucers. “Please tell me the rumors aren’t true.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Depends on the rumor.”

She leaned closer, whisper-screaming. “That you spilled coffee on the new CEO and he personally promoted you right after.”

A strangled laugh escaped me. “Close enough.”

Half the office went silent as I walked past, people pretending to work while obviously listening. The whispers trailed me like perfume.

> “She must’ve known him before…”

“Probably some old-money connection.”

“Typical. Pretty face, easy promotion.”

Their words stung, but I’d heard worse.

Still, it didn’t stop my pulse from racing when my phone buzzed with a company-wide email.

> Subject: Departmental Changes – Executive Office

Effective immediately, Daphne Galanis will serve as Executive Assistant to Mr. Antonio Nikolaou.

The entire floor turned to stare. Irene’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my God. You weren’t kidding.”

“I wish I were.”

---

By mid-afternoon, I’d been summoned to HR to sign paperwork. Every step toward that glass office felt like walking into a spotlight. People moved out of my way; others watched with open curiosity. It was the same look I used to get at charity galas — admiration laced with envy — except now it came with suspicion.

When I emerged ten minutes later with a new badge clipped to my blouse, Irene intercepted me at the elevator.

“So, boss’s girl,” she teased, half-grinning, half-worried. “Want to tell your best friend what’s going on before my curiosity eats me alive?”

I forced a weak smile. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Right,” she said dryly. “And I’m the queen of England. Daph, I know that look. You’ve seen him before, haven’t you?”

I hesitated. “It’s… complicated.”

Her expression softened. “Then don’t tell me. Just promise me he’s not one of those power-trip monsters.”

I thought of the way he’d looked at me — sharp, unreadable, devastatingly composed — and my stomach knotted.

“I don’t know who he is anymore,” I admitted quietly.

---

Back to the Lion’s Den

The 25th floor felt even colder the second time around. The receptionist smiled tightly and waved me through. I could feel Antonio’s presence before I saw him — like static in the air.

He was on the phone when I entered, voice low and precise, speaking in Greek. The words rolled off his tongue like velvet and smoke. I pretended not to listen, setting my bag on the desk outside his glass office — my new desk.

His office door opened moments later.

“Miss Galanis,” he said evenly, as if the morning hadn’t happened. “You’re late.”

“It’s three-thirty,” I replied before I could stop myself.

A ghost of amusement crossed his face. “Then I suppose I’ll adjust my expectations accordingly.”

He handed me a stack of files. “These need to be sorted and uploaded to my private server before the end of the day. You’ll also coordinate tomorrow’s meeting schedule and—”

He paused when he saw me staring at the documents, probably realizing half of them were labeled confidential. His tone softened, just a fraction. “You can handle that, can’t you?”

“I can handle anything you give me,” I said, surprising even myself with the edge in my voice.

His gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. “We’ll see.”

---

Hours crawled by. I buried myself in work, partly to prove I could, partly to avoid thinking. But the tension in the air never eased. Every time Antonio’s door opened, conversations stopped. Every time he passed by, the interns straightened their backs.

He was different from the man I used to know — colder, sharper, untouchable.

And yet, beneath the tailored control, I could still sense that dangerous energy that once drew me in like gravity.

At five-thirty, Irene texted:

> IRENE: Survived Day 1 as CEO’s right hand?

ME: Barely.

IRENE: Drinks tonight. You’re telling me everything.

I smiled faintly. Maybe I’d go — if I could feel my legs by then.

Antonio appeared in the doorway just as I gathered my things. “Leaving already?”

“It’s past six,” I said carefully.

He looked at his watch, then at me. “I didn’t realize ambition clocked out at six.”

The jab hit home. “Noted,” I murmured, setting my bag back down.

His eyes flicked over me — professional, assessing, but something darker lingered underneath. “Goodnight, Miss Galanis.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

When the door closed behind him, I sank into my chair, heart hammering.

Eight hours down. Who knew how many to go?

Outside, the city lights of Velmor flickered to life — bright, ruthless, beautiful. Somewhere in that skyline, Antonio’s world thrived in all its power and danger.

And now, somehow, I was part of it again.

---