The morning after the "I'm Too Sexy" incident, Elena swore she'd keep a low profile. Coffee, files, and absolute silence—that was the plan.
It lasted all of ten minutes.
"Miss Carter," Alexander's voice called from his office.
She braced herself and stepped inside, notebook in hand. "Yes, Mr. Frost?"
He slid a folder across the desk. "Prepare the background for tomorrow's presentation with the London investors. Accuracy is critical."
"Of course," she said, flipping it open. Pages of financial data stared back at her—graphs, charts, endless numbers.
No problem. She'd triple-check everything.
By late afternoon, Elena's eyes were crossing, but she had the file polished and pristine. She slipped it into the binder, stacked neatly with the other reports, and left it in the locked cabinet. Done.
The next morning, Alexander opened the binder during the investor call. His gaze flicked to the page—then froze.
The chart on the screen wasn't financial projections. It was a cartoon cat, wearing sunglasses, riding a skateboard under the words: "MEOW OR NEVER."
Elena's blood drained from her face.
The investors looked baffled. Sophia, sitting in on the meeting, made a soft, amused sound behind her hand.
"Miss Carter," Alexander said coolly, his voice like a blade. "Explain."
Elena scrambled for words. "I—I swear that wasn't there yesterday! I checked every page twice!"
Sophia's voice slid in, smooth as silk. "Perhaps Miss Carter is… overwhelmed with her workload. Mistakes happen."
Elena wanted to scream. She knew that cat wasn't her doing. Someone had tampered with the file.
And she could guess exactly who.
The meeting ended with Alexander salvaging the presentation through sheer force of authority. As the investors filed out, Elena stayed behind, her stomach in knots.
"Mr. Frost, please—you have to believe me. I didn't put that—"
He stood, closing the binder with a snap. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned into hers.
"Miss Carter," he said quietly, "in my world, mistakes cost millions."
She flinched.
But then—just as quickly—his tone shifted, almost imperceptibly softer. "Find out who did this. And next time, lock the cabinet yourself."
Her breath caught. Was that… trust?
Before she could answer, he moved past her, his cold mask firmly in place. But Elena's heart hammered with a new realization:
If Sophia thought she could rattle Elena into quitting, she was dead wrong.
This wasn't just about survival anymore.
This was war.