CHAPTER 6

SCARLETT FOSTER

I didn't sleep a single wink that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, Caleb’s confession echoed in the dark space of my tiny apartment. His words about his father’s debts, the threats against my life, and the sheer agony in his gray eyes kept looping in my head like a broken recording.

Part of me—the hurt, bitter part—wanted to believe it was just a smooth excuse crafted by a powerful man who always got what he wanted. But another part of me knew Caleb. I knew the tone of his voice when he was laying his soul bare. He hadn't lied to me. He had sacrificed his own happiness to keep a target off my back.

By seven in the morning, I was already standing in front of my bathroom mirror, carefully applying extra concealer under my eyes to hide the heavy dark circles.

"You are here to do a job, Scarlett," I told my reflection, smoothing down the lapels of my tailored beige blazer. "You need the paycheck. Keep your head down, do your work, and don't get swept up in the past."

When I stepped off the elevator on the top floor of Montgomery Enterprises at seven-forty, the quiet hum of the executive suite felt surprisingly comforting. I made my way to my desk outside Caleb's office, set my handbag down, and opened my laptop.

The heavy glass door to Caleb’s private office was slightly open. I caught a glimpse of him standing by the window, a phone pressed to his ear, his jacket already off and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

My chest tightened instantly. The memory of his lips hovering just a hair's breadth away from mine inside the car last night rushed back, making my face burn. I quickly averted my eyes and focused on my screen, typing away at my morning tasks.

About twenty minutes later, sharp, clicking heels echoed down the quiet hallway.

I looked up to see a stunning woman strutting toward my desk. She wore an impeccably tailored white pantsuit, carrying a designer leather tote that probably cost more than my entire year's rent. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her posture practically radiated wealth and authority.

She stopped right in front of my desk, running a slow, judgmental gaze over my simple outfit before resting her sharp eyes on my face.

"You must be the new temp," she said, her tone dripping with casual condescension. "I'm Julianna Vance. I need the quarterly financial portfolio for the board meeting at ten, along with a black coffee. Skim milk, no sugar."

I kept my expression completely neutral, standing up politely. "Good morning, Miss Vance. I'm Scarlett Foster, Mr. Montgomery’s executive assistant. I can certainly get those reports for you, but I'll need Mr. Montgomery's sign-off first since those files are restricted."

Julianna raised an eyebrow, a slight, mocking smirk playing on her lips. "Restricted? To me? I'm a senior board member, Miss Foster. And more importantly, Caleb and I don't formalize things between us. Just fetch the files."

Her casual use of his first name sent a subtle, uncomfortable sting through my chest, though I refused to let it show on my face.

Before I could reply, the door to the main office swung open.

Caleb stepped out, holding a sheaf of papers. His gray eyes swept over the reception area, landing on Julianna first before shifting directly to me. The cold, distant expression he usually wore in public visibly softened for a fraction of a second when he looked at me, making my pulse jump.

"Julianna," Caleb said, his voice flat as he walked over to my desk. "What are you doing up here so early?"

Julianna’s sharp demeanor instantly melted into a warm, charming smile. She stepped closer to Caleb, casually placing a hand on his forearm. "I came to check on the preparations for the ten o'clock meeting, darling. And your new assistant was just being a bit stubborn about releasing the files."

I watched Caleb’s arm subtly stiffen under her touch. He didn't make a scene, but he stepped back casually to check his watch, forcing her hand to drop.

"Scarlett is following company protocol," Caleb said, his voice firm, leaving zero room for argument. "No one accesses those board files without my direct authorization. She did her job correctly."

Julianna’s smile stiffened, a flash of annoyance darting through her eyes before she quickly covered it up. "Of course. Just making sure we're on schedule." She turned her gaze toward me, her eyes cold as ice despite the fake smile on her face. "I'll see you in the boardroom, Caleb."

She turned on her heel and walked away, her high heels clicking sharply against the marble floor until she disappeared into the elevator.

The silence that followed was thick. I sat back down at my chair, opening a new tab on my screen and pretending to be intensely fascinated by an empty spreadsheet.

Caleb didn't leave. He stood on the other side of my desk, his shadow falling over my keyboard.

"She doesn't speak for the company, Scarlett," Caleb said softly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet office. "And she certainly doesn't speak for me."

"It's fine, Mr. Montgomery," I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the monitor. "She’s a board member. I know how to handle demanding clients."

"Look at me," he requested gently.

I swallowed hard, slowly lifting my gaze to meet his. He looked tired, the faint dark circles under his eyes proving he hadn't slept much either. But the sheer intensity in his gray eyes was unmistakable.

"Last night..." I began, my voice dropping to a low whisper so no passing staff could hear. "We need to keep things professional here. I took this job because I desperately needed it, Caleb. I can't afford distractions or office drama."

Caleb leaned down slightly, placing both hands flat on the edge of my desk, bringing his face closer to mine. The faint scent of sandalwood drifted over, making my heart hammer wildly against my ribs.

"You're not a distraction, Scarlett," he murmured, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering focus. "And as long as you're in this building, no one—not Julianna, not the board—will ever disrespect you."

He picked up a small leather folder from the edge of my desk, signed his name on the cover, and handed it to me.

"Get these prepped for the ten o'clock meeting," Caleb said, stepping back into his professional role as seamlessly as a light switch flipping. "And order yourself some breakfast. You barely touched dinner yesterday."

He turned and walked back into his private office, closing the door behind him.

I stared at the signed folder in my hands, my heart beating at an erratic rhythm. I adjusted my posture, opened the file, and pulled up the attendee list for the morning meeting.