LOGIN“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, concerned tone. He searched her face for any sign of distress, his grip on her hand tightening protectively. “Did you change your mind about tonight?” The afternoon sun caught the messy strand of his black hair as he leaned closer, his icy blue eyes scanning her expression intently. The professional façade he wore so easily had completely disappeared, replaced by the raw vulnerability of a man who had just been given hope only to ha
Tera did not move. She just kept leaning against the desk, her eyes fixed on him with a look that was neither angry nor sad– just expectant. “There,” he began but she interrupted him. “Change,” she stood straight. “Fuck that shit. I do not care if you change. Fuck half the city for all I care. Just do not neglect me.” Marius blinked completely thrown. He had prepared himself for a breakdown, a screaming match, maybe even a slap. He had not prepared for this– this raw, almost desperate demand for attention over morality. “You are serious?” he asked his voice flat with disbelief. “You are actually saying that?” he stepped back, shaking his head slowly. He looked at her– really looked at her– and saw the way she was holding herself. It was not weakness; it was a challenge. She was drawing a line in the sand and telling him exactly where it was.“Neglect you,” Marius repeated, the word
Around 3 PM Harper went down to the design floor to meet Knox. Tera came into Marius’s office. Marius was reviewing the casting notes when the door to his office opened. He did not look up immediately, assuming it was Harper returning with more detail from Knox. “I need you to sign something for me,” Tera said, leaning against the doorframe. She held a single sheet of paper between two manicured fingers. “Tera. What is this?” Marius asked, glanced up, his expression neutral. “Just some paperwork from the marketing side,” she said, stepping into the room with that familiar, breezy confidence. She placed the paper on his desk and lingered, her gaze sweeping over the office before settling on him. “You look busy. I did not want to interrupt, but it is quick.” She rested her hand on the edge of his desk, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the wood.Marius picked up the paper, scanning it with practiced indifference. &ld
“I will run it past Knox, when I go over later on in the day,” Harper said already turning back to the door. “I will type over the notes form the meeting with Hank and email it to you.” “Good plan,” Marius said, watching her turn. “And Harper? If Knox starts getting weird about the ‘student’ think, just remind him that ‘authenticity’ is what he was preaching about this morning. That usually shuts him up.” He leaned back, watching her exit. The office felt larger again, the silence settling back in around him. He picked up the Ceasar salad container she had left earlier, noticing it was barely touched. He opened the container and took a bite of the salad, it was decent, but he found himself distracted, staring at the door she had just walked thought. His phone buzzed on the desk. An email from Harper with the subject line: notes from meeting with Hank.Marius opened it immediately. Harper’s notes wer
“Exactly. So, you see the problem,” Marius said, pointing a finger at him. “You are not asking for a favour, you are asking me to be your human shield.” Oliver did not deny it. He just sat there with that smirk, perfectly comfortable in his skin, looking every bit the CEO who knew exactly how to navigate the politics of his own office. “Fine,” Marius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I will do it. But on one condition: when Knox starts crying about his ‘vision’ and asks for a private jet to go look at waves in Scotland, you are the one who has to tell him no.” Oliver chuckled, standing up and smoothing his jacket. “Deal. I will make sure my door is closed during that meeting.” He headed toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “And Marius? Thanks for stepping up. I owe you one.” He hesitated to leave, his gaze lingering on Harper’s desk. “And where is you secretary cu
“It is only hypothetical. I am exploring the idea myself with Oliver’s help before it goes anywhere,” Harper clarified. “The CEO knows?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Oliver Williams has been helping me think through the logistics. At the moment we are simply examining whether it is viable,” she said as she nodded. He leaned back, considering the question for several moments before answering. “I suppose the first thing would depend on the kind of non-profit. If it is an organization that already works closely with communities, schools, or families, then they might actually make recruitment easier,” he said, resting an elbow on the table.“So, instead of relying entirely on agencies, the agencies could recruit through the organization’s contacts,” Harper said tapping the stylus lightly against the edge of her tablet. “And if the campaign has a charitable element attached to it, people might be more w
The conference room chairs feature subtle purple seat cushions that add a splash of colour to the otherwise neutral palette. The floor consisted of medium grey carpet tiles with subtle woven texture, reducing the noise from Harpers heels as she entered and placed her things on the table. Recessed LED ceiling lights are evenly spaced across the ceiling, casting bright, uniform illumination throughout the room without harsh shadows. A single potted plant occupies one corner beside the display, introducing a touch of greenery. Harper sat down with her tablet in front of her as she waited for hank to arrive. She read through an email response she received from Love Self Esteem, stating their only collaborate with companies advertising famine hygiene products and they are not currently interested in the fashion industry.Hank enters the conference room with a structured brown leather briefcase in one arm and a slim leather portfolio beneath the other arm. He is wearing a textured
Oliver scanned the detailed schedule Harper had emailed him, a small smile forming on his lips as he noted the 1pm lunch break. His mouse pointer hovered over the ‘reply’ button, tempted to type something flirtatious or demanding, but ultimately settling for a simple acknowledgment:Reply-
Oliver leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Marius. “An art exhibition?” he repeated skeptically. “Since when do you care about art, Marius? Last I checked, your idea of culture involved neon lights and overpriced cocktails.” His eyes flickered towards Harper s
“Perhaps, in this case resistance is futile? Perhaps, the opposite is the solution.” Harper suggested trying to maintain a professional face. She felt her cheeks flush and her heartbeat quicken. “How about a drink after work?” she added quickly, before she can change her m
“Housekeeping might throw it all away.” Harper said softly, looking down at the papers on the floor. “Organizing your office and paperwork is my job,” she adds. Oliver’s expression softened slightly at her insistence; a hint of admiration mixed with the frustration i







