Vera couldn’t hold back a small gasp, the unfair accusation causing her to shake with impotent rage. She stepped out of Vihaan’s office, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from filling up. Her face heated when she caught sight of a smirking Olivia in the hallway who’d clearly overhead Vera being reprimanded by their boss.
Just fucking great.She spun away and headed to the archives room a couple floors below. Everyone in the company would know what had transpired between Vera and Vihaan by the end of the day, all thanks to Olivia Singh.
All the respect and good will she’d earned through years of hard work would now come under question because one man had decided to yell out his completely illogical suspicion.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Mentally throwing every possible curse known to her at Vihaan, she opened the door to the storage room and slid the little rubber wedge underneath to keep it ajar. She stomped into the cold and dark space, looking for the light switch. White light flickered above her, flooding small sections to highlight rows upon rows of metal shelves, filled to the brim with documents, folders and books.
A quick glance at the far end of one lane showed her the computer that would have the filing directory on it. With a sigh that made her feel far older than her years, she walked up to the machine and plonked down in front of it. She had a list of the references Vihaan wanted, but it would take a while to figure out where each file was located. She opened a browser to recheck author names on a particular article, frowning when she kept receiving an internet connectivity error.
“Uuuugh,” she groaned, knowing she’d have to search for it again when she returned to her desk upstairs. For the next little bit, she typed away on the keyboard, scrolling for the right file names within the directory which thankfully did not require the internet, and jotted down their shelf numbers so she could begin hunting.
Her ears perked up when she heard the shuffle of feet entering the room. She was well hidden in this corner, behind all the shelving. To ensure they were aware, she called out, “Hello! I’m in the back so leave the door open please!”
The lock on the storage room door was notoriously finicky, leading to a permanent ‘don’t lock yourself in’ sign taped right outside as a warning for all to see. Why the building management kept delaying replacing the lock, she didn’t know. Maintenance wars were not her forte. Besides, she had her own war to win. She grumbled, counting the number of files she had yet to track down.
Too consumed with her task, she failed to note the creaking of hinges until an ominous thud startled her.
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if someone had dropped something. Silence followed—the kind that made it clear that no one else was in her vicinity. Brows furrowed, her ears homed in on a barely there tone, like the squeal an old TV produced when it turned on. The flat sound dancing between her eardrums confirmed her fear.
A moment later, the pen in her hand clattered as she shot off her chair and flew down the aisle, a small sound of worry escaping her lips when she saw the shut door.
She thumped upon the flat surface with her open palms, hoping that the person who’d just left was still nearby and would hear her.
“Hello?! I’m inside the room! Please open the door!”
She waited for a few seconds, trying unsuccessfully to quell the growing panic within her.
Her fist pounded on solid wood, the desperate thumps drawing no response from the other side. She was trapped in the one space that was least frequented in the building, without a phone or a way to call for aid. Fear spun through her like a furious tornado as she kicked and slapped the door, drawing in a heaving breath before she began to yell.
“Help. Get me out of here! Heeeelp!!!”
9
Fireworks
Vihaan
The golden rays ofan impending sunset flooded his office with warmth. Vihaan’s gaze swivelled from the orange-pink sky to the foggy glass wall he shared with his employees, the otherwise glossy panes having taken on a honeyed hue from the light filtering through the window. He’d increased the frosted effect to make it completely opaque somewhere around late afternoon as a way to force himself to focus on work.
Despite having sent Vera away on an errand, Vihaan had kept checking through the glass every so often to see if she’d returned. At one point, he’d caught himself staring at her empty chair, imagining her sitting there with her perfect posture, twirling that single lock of hair like she always did out of habit.
Certain things about her hadn’t changed since their fall out, and this was one of them. This, and the way she glared daggers at him when she was pissed.
Oh, he’d known he was being a dick. But he needed to create some space between them, if only for a little bit. It drove him crazy seeing her everyday, being this close to her and being reminded of how naive and stupid he’d been while she walked around, completely unbothered by his presence. He may as well have not existed as far as she was concerned. But him? His mind was stuck on her, his ears attuned to her voice trickling down the office hall, his eyes peeled on her face through the glass walls of his cabin as she typed away at her desk or chewed her coffee stirrer while thinking.
He couldn’t stand it, and he blamed her for his predicament. He wished he could let it go. He truly did. Every morning before coming into Ethos, he told himself that he’d be a professional and that he would treat Vera just like any other employee. But the second his gaze fell on her, all he wanted to do was haul her out the door so she would be nowhere near enough to hurt him again.
So yes, he was going to be difficult and make sure that Vera understood that working for him would not be easy. If she thought she could charm him as she’d once done, she was mistaken.
He’d been impressed by her presentation and swayed into voting for her project. But in the weeks since, he’d uncovered mistake after mistake, chunks of missing information, gaps in projected schedules, script errors that should have never made it to his desk.
And he was livid.
Sure, the young Vera had been smart and driven—frighteningly so. But greed and age had a way of making intelligence take a back seat.
The reference material he’d asked for was comprehensive. He wanted to see what she brought to the table in raw form because it would indicate if she’d worked on this as she’d insinuated. The alternative was far less flattering.