Elena's POV
I stood there for a second, waiting for him to say something else, but he didn't.
His attention had already returned to the file in his hand, as if I wasn't even in the room.
I picked up the folder quickly and turned, scanning the office for a place to sit.
There was a set of sofas arranged a few steps away from his desk. I headed toward it without thinking.
"Not there."
I stopped mid-step and looked at him.
He didn't raise his head. He only pointed toward the glass space outside. "Your office."
"Oh… right."
I walked out and stepped into the smaller office. It was neat and quiet, with just enough space to work without feeling cramped.
A desk, a chair, a system already set up.
I dropped my bag and sat down, placing the folder in front of me.
"Okay, Elena… don't mess this up," I murmured.
I opened it and flipped through the pages. There were a lot of files, all mixed together.
Client names, dates, contracts.
It looked simple at first glance, but the more I looked, the more confusing it became.
I leaned back slightly and closed my eyes for a second, trying to remember everything he had said.
Digitize. Sort by priority. Summary. Mark contracts.
"Alright."
I started from the first file and worked my way through carefully.
The first few minutes were rough. I almost made mistakes, then caught myself and corrected them.
"Slow down," I whispered. "You've done this before."
That helped.
I followed the instructions step by step, paying attention to every detail. Before I knew it, I was done.
I checked the time and blinked.
Thirty minutes.
A small smile slipped onto my face. "Thank God for experience."
I arranged everything neatly, picked up the folder, and went back to his office.
I knocked.
"Come in."
"I'm done," I said as I stepped in.
He looked up briefly. Just for a second. There was something in his eyes, but it disappeared almost immediately.
He took the folder and flipped through it in silence. Then he dropped it on the table.
"This is rubbish. Do it again."
I stared at him. "I'm sorry?"
"I said redo it."
I didn't move. I knew what I had done was correct. I had followed every instruction.
Still, I forced a small smile. "Alright, sir."
I took the folder and walked out.
Back at my desk, I went through everything again. I checked each file twice, adjusted things that didn't even need adjusting, and rewrote the summary just to be sure.
When I was done, I took it back to him.
He went through it and pushed it back again.
"Still wrong."
That was when I looked at him properly. "What exactly am I doing wrong?"
He raised his head this time, his expression calm but distant. "Figure that out yourself."
I felt the irritation rise, but I swallowed it.
"Of course," I said with a tight smile.
I turned to leave.
"Don't you remember," he said suddenly, "or are you pretending you don't?"
I stopped and looked back at him. "I'm sorry?"
But he had already gone back to his work. "You can leave."
I stood there for a second, confused, then walked out.
"What the…" I muttered under my breath as I returned to my seat.
Still, I redid it again.
When I finished, I took a deep breath before heading back. "This better be the last time."
I knocked. No answer.
I waited, then opened the door and stepped in anyway.
"I'm done."
"Drop it," he said without looking up.
I placed the folder on his table. He didn't touch it.
I stood there, waiting, but he ignored me completely.
I pressed my lips together. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"Get me coffee."
"Okay…"
"Black. No sugar. Not too hot, not cold. Don't make it bitter."
I frowned slightly. "Sorry, can you—"
"I don't like repeating myself."
Of course you don't.
"Where do I get it?"
"The coffee room."
I walked out before my mouth could betray me.
The coffee room was just down the hall. It was clean and fully stocked, like everything on this floor had been carefully arranged for one person.
I started making the coffee, following his instructions as best as I could.
"Handsome but stressful," I muttered. "What kind of combination is that?"
I tasted it lightly and nodded. "Perfect."
I carried it back to him.
He took a sip, paused for a brief second, then continued like nothing had happened.
But I saw it.
That tiny satisfaction.
I smiled to myself.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"No. I'll call you when I need you."
I walked back to my seat and dropped into the chair.
"Peace at last," I whispered.
A few minutes passed.
I glanced through the glass. He was still working, completely focused.
"Workaholic," I muttered.
I couldn't just sit there doing nothing, so I stood up and went back to the coffee room to make one for myself.
With the cup in my hand, I wandered a little further and found another door.
The storage room.
I pushed it open slowly. Rows of files lined the shelves, arranged neatly. The room smells of old papers.
I stepped in, my eyes scanning the labels.
I reached for one file.
The label on it stood out immediately. It didn't look like the others.
"What is this…" I murmured.
I was about to open it when my stomach growled loudly.
"Seriously?"
I checked the time and my eyes widened. It was already evening.
"I haven't eaten since morning…"
I placed the file back and walked out. When I got to my desk, I picked up my phone. My heart skipped.
Twenty missed calls.
"Drake?"
I called him immediately. No answer.
"Pick up… please pick up…"
Then finally—
"Elena…"
"Drake! Are you okay?"
"It's my heart again—"
The call cut off suddenly.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. The screen had gone black.
"My battery…"
My chest tightened instantly.
"Drake?" I called again, pressing the power button, hoping it would come back on.
Nothing.
No response.
Fear rushed through me.
I grabbed my bag and ran out.