Chapter 2 Welcome from Chaos

Sharon's POV

It seemed like the elevator journey to the twenty-fifth level went on forever. I clamped down on my bag's strap until my knuckles were white. My first day at Donald Enterprises was today.

I emerged into a busy corridor with well-dressed individuals moving purposefully. Heels clicked, phones rang, and printers hummed in the background. I felt like an intruder in my thrift-store outfit and scuffed sneakers.

"Davis, Sharon?" A severe voice yelled.

When I glanced around, I saw a tall woman holding a clipboard and sporting a neat bob. Her piercing eyes swept over me as if determining whether I belonged.

I answered, attempting to sound certain, "Yes, that's me."

I'm Emily, and I work as Mr. Grant's assistant. Come with me.

I rushed to catch up with her as she went quickly down the corridor, almost falling over my own feet. Before coming to a halt in front of a desk filled with paperwork and a modern computer, we passed rows of offices with glass walls.

Emily pointed toward the desk and said, "This is your workstation." Every day, you will receive an email with your responsibilities. Avoid making a mistake and don't annoy Mr. Grant until it's required.

I answered, nervously nodding, "Got it."

She narrowed her eyes and said, "Oh, and one more thing-Avoid getting in anyone's way."

She then pivoted on her heel and vanished into the commotion.

Staring at the computer screen, I sunk into the chair. Organizing a list of client connections was my first assignment. Simple enough, isn't it?

However, it appeared that the software shown on the screen was written in a foreign language. I closed the file by mistake as I wrestled with the mouse, clicking wildly.

As I fought to reopen it, I whispered to myself, "Great start, Sharon," feeling the weight of every set of eyes that glanced my way.

I was able to correct my error and finish the assignment by midday. With a slight sense of accomplishment, I decided to take a brief rest.

Emily suddenly showed up and said, "Mr. Grant wants you in the boardroom, Sharon."

I felt sick to my stomach. "Me? Why?"

Was I stuttering? She yelled and turned to go.

With my pulse racing, I rushed to the boardroom. Executives were seated around a long table inside, their faces tense. Standing at the head, Donald had a stern and icy look.

Donald threw a file on the table and declared, "This report is unacceptable. Do you believe that I use shoddy data to manage this business?"

Among the executives, one stumbled, "Mr. We'll fix that right away, Grant-"

"I'd rather not be corrected." Donald cut in, his voice as sharp as a sword. "I want results."

I saw the scenario play out while standing motionless next to the entrance. He was merciless, eliminating justifications with ruthless effectiveness. However, there was a certain allure to the way he controlled the space.

Donald's eyes snapped to mine as he said, "Sharon."

I winced. "Y-Yes, sir?"

"Take this," he said, giving me a folder. "Have it sent to the finance department immediately. Additionally, don't waste time."

I practically sprinted out of the room as I said, "Yes, sir."

I kept thinking about him in the boardroom as I rushed down the hallway. Scary? Of course. However, there was another element something that made it difficult to turn away.

I had found a rhythm by the middle of the day. Even if the chores weren't simple, I was resolved not to make the same mistakes twice.

"Who allowed her entry? A recognizable voice interrupted my focus with a snap.

A stunningly attractive woman was standing next to Donald's office when I looked up. Her beautiful clothing exuded wealth, and her blond hair was groomed flawlessly.

A voice whispered behind me, "That's Rebecca Harper, Donald's ex-fiancee."

A former fiancée? As I watched Rebecca stroll into Donald's office without even knocking, my interest was aroused.

Minutes later, heated voices poured into the corridor.

"You can't just show up here, Rebecca," Donald's voice was low and forceful.

"I had to see you, Donald," she answered, her tone dripping with fake kindness. "We have unfinished business."

I immediately glanced aside, pretending to focus on my computer, but my ears were burning.

Rebecca appeared from the office a moment later, her heels clicking on the floor. She swept the room, her gaze falling on mine.

"Sharon, isn't it?" Rebecca came over to my desk with a phony civility in her voice.

I hesitated before answering, "Yes," wondering how she knew my name.

Her smile was cold as she drew in closer. "A word of advice, my love-don't get in my way."

I was taken aback and blinked. "I... I don't get it.

"Oh, you will," she responded in a condescending tone. "People like you don't stay with Donald for very long."

She turned and left, leaving a fog of anxiety behind her, before I could reply.

Her comments kept coming back to me as I sat still in my chair. What did she mean by "people like me?" And why did she appear so desperate to terrify me?

As the day finished, I gathered up my things, my thoughts racing. I had only just begun my work, and already, I'd made an enemy.

Whatever Rebecca's problem was, I had a sickening sense that was merely the beginning.

My thoughts were racing as I packed up my belongings after the day. Even though I had just recently begun my work, I had already created a foe. I couldn't get rid of the impression that Rebecca knew something I didn't, and her comments were like a riddle wrapped in dread.

The cool evening air did little to ease my anxiety as I left the office building. I felt as though I was walking through a fog, even though the city was bustling all around me. My phone buzzed in my bag, jolting me from my thoughts.

A text message lit up the screen.

Unknown Number: Steer clear of unfamiliar situations. Think of this as your only warning.

As I gazed at the letter, my hands shook and my breath caught. Who was the sender of this? Did Rebecca do it?

I felt vulnerable as I looked around the packed street. Was I being watched?

I quickly grabbed up the phone when it fell out of my fingers and clattered to the floor. I had a heart-stopping epiphany that made my heart race.

This was a declaration of war, not only a warning.

I was also in over my head.