THE BOSS' MISTRESS

BLAKE TOOK A BREATH, his eyes fixed on the lady dancing,She moved like the music was inside her, not around her. The crowd pulsed and swayed, but she was somewhere else entirely - caught between rhythm and memory. Her body flowed with the beat, smooth and hypnotic, each movement deliberate yet lost, as if she was dancing

Her hair, golden under the shifting lights, fell in careless waves down her back, catching the glimmer of red and blue like fire and shadow woven together. She didn't look at anyone - not once - but that made it worse. The mystery of her silence pulled harder than any glance could.

He watched her. There was something fragile about her strength, something beautiful about the way she surrendered to the music. She wasn't trying to be seen; she was trying to disappear. And yet, in that moment, she was the only thing he could see.

Her hair, a waterfall of warm honey and gold, tumbled over her shoulders in effortless waves that seemed made for a man's fingers to get lost in. Each strand shimmered under the soft light, framing her face with a sensual glow that made it impossible to look away.

Blake ordered another glass of wine, though he barely tasted it. His eyes never left her. Anna moved through the crowd as if the world had shrunk to the rhythm she carried in her bones, each turn and sway a story only she knew. He felt drawn to her like gravity, and he knew he couldn't stay at the bar any longer.

With slow, deliberate steps, he made his way across the floor. The music throbbed around him, but in that space between the beats, it was just her. He reached her side, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her, and for a moment hesitated, watching the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders, catching the lights like molten gold.

"May I?" he asked softly, lifting his hand toward the space between them, not to touch, just to bridge the silence. She didn't stop, didn't look at him, but she shifted just slightly, enough for him to step into her orbit. The air around her smelled faintly of something he couldn't name - bittersweet, intoxicating, like a memory he wanted to keep.

Blake and Anna moved together with effortless rhythm, their bodies syncing to the pulse of the music. For a while, the world shrank to the small space they occupied, lost in the beat and the warmth of each other's presence. The crowd around them faded into a blur of lights and shadow, until finally, the music stopped. The sudden silence marked the club's closing, leaving only the echo of their footsteps and the lingering thrill of the dance.

As the crowd began to disperse, Blake found himself staring at Anna more clearly than ever. The dim lights of the club no longer obscured her features. She was breathtaking-truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her face was perfectly balanced, with high cheekbones that caught the faint glow of the remaining lights, a delicately sculpted nose that gave her an air of aristocratic elegance, and eyes the color of liquid amber, warm yet mysterious, drawing him in as if they held secrets meant only for him. Her lips were full and soft, tinted with a natural rose hue, curving slightly at the corners in a way that suggested both mischief and melancholy. Every small detail of her expression-the subtle arch of her brows, the way her lashes framed her eyes-made her irresistible, impossible to look away from.

Compelled by a mixture of curiosity and desire, Blake leaned closer and asked, his voice low and tentative, "Would you like to come with me... to my place?"

Anna's gaze met his, steady and unflinching. "I don't mind," she said softly, "as long as you can keep my mind away from reality."

Blake's brow furrowed slightly, a shadow of concern passing over his features. There was something behind her calm, seductive exterior-something that hinted at a deeper weight, a hidden struggle. What could be troubling someone so beautiful, so seemingly free? The thought lingered in his mind as he offered his hand, silently hoping that, in some small way, he might be able to lighten whatever burden she carried.

Blake led Anna out of the club, the night air cool against their flushed skin. The city streets were quieter now, neon signs casting long, flickering reflections on the wet pavement. He opened the car door for her, his hand brushing hers ever so slightly-a touch electric enough to make him aware of her presence, of how close she already felt.

Once inside, the hum of the engine and the soft, ambient glow of the dashboard created a private cocoon around them. Anna kept her gaze fixed out the window, but Blake couldn't stop looking at her, memorizing the way the city lights flickered across her profile. He noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, the brief moments when her eyes clouded over with something unspoken. She was stunning, yes-but fragile in a way that tugged at him, awakening an urge not just to possess her, but to protect her.

"Hey," he said gently, reaching over to touch her hand. "You're quiet. Is everything... okay?"

Anna turned her eyes toward him briefly, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at her lips. "I'm fine," she said, but her voice carried a softness that contradicted the words, a fragile undercurrent that Blake couldn't ignore.

He hesitated, then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head lightly. "Not yet. Maybe... later. Tonight, I just want to forget."

Blake nodded, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Then tonight, we'll just forget. No questions, no reality-just us."

The car ride was silent after that, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn't need words to exist. Blake couldn't stop stealing glances at her-the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the slight curve of her lips when she allowed herself a fleeting smile, the way her eyes softened when they caught the city lights. Every detail made him ache to know her more, to understand the weight she carried, and to find a way to lift it, even if only for a few hours.

When they finally arrived at his place, Blake opened the door for her again, his heart thudding with a mix of anticipation and protectiveness. "Welcome," he said, his voice low and intimate. "This is your space too, for tonight at least."

Anna stepped inside, letting the door close softly behind her. She looked around briefly, taking in the warm lighting and the quiet of the apartment, then turned to him with a glance that was at once grateful and wary. "I... hope this works," she murmured.

Blake gave her a reassuring smile. "It will. I promise, no reality-just a safe place. For as long as you want it."

For the first time since he'd met her, Blake saw her relax ever so slightly. But even as she let herself breathe, a flicker of sadness lingered behind her eyes. Something told him that tonight would be a delicate dance-between desire and trust, between distraction and the truths she was keeping hidden. And Blake was determined to follow her every step, whatever it took.

Once inside, Anna set her bag down quietly, her eyes still tracing the warm contours of Blake's apartment. It was cozy, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of his cologne mixed with the subtle aroma of vanilla candles. She let out a soft breath, letting the safety of the space wrap around her.

Blake stepped closer, the subtle warmth of his presence brushing against her. "Make yourself comfortable," he murmured, his voice low, intimate. "Tonight, it's just us. Nothing else matters."

Anna turned to him, her amber eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and something softer-something that hinted at a loneliness she hadn't yet shared. She nodded, a small, hesitant smile appearing, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Blake noticed, his heart tugging. There was a story there, one she wasn't ready to tell, and yet he felt compelled to be near her, to ease whatever burden she carried.

He reached for her hand, gently guiding her to the couch. "Sit with me," he said softly. As she settled, he knelt slightly in front of her, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her skin, tracing the delicate line of her jaw, and she shivered-not entirely from the touch, but from the intensity of being seen so fully.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself, his gaze lingering on the subtle curve of her lips, the soft flush of her cheeks, the warmth of her eyes. "And... there's something about you that I can't stop thinking about. I don't know what it is, but I want to be near it. Near you."

Anna's lips parted slightly, and she inhaled softly, a delicate sigh that seemed to carry more than she was willing to say. "I... I don't know if I'm ready for that," she admitted, her voice barely audible, yet charged with honesty. "I just want tonight to be... different. To forget everything for a while."

Blake smiled, leaning closer, careful not to overwhelm her. "Then we'll forget," he murmured. "I'll hold you here. No questions, no reality. Just this moment."

He reached out, letting his hand rest lightly on her shoulder, then slowly traced down her arm, feeling the warmth and the subtle tension beneath her skin. Anna tilted her head, allowing herself to lean slightly into his touch. Her eyes flickered toward his, searching for reassurance, and he gave her a soft, encouraging smile.

They drew closer, the space between them charged with an electric intimacy, and yet, Blake sensed the shadow behind her beauty-the quiet weight she carried. It made him all the more protective, more careful with every movement, every word. He wanted to draw her out of her own mind, to let her feel something pure, something free, even if just for tonight.

And as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against hers, Anna responded with a tentative but undeniable warmth. It was the first small surrender of the night, a fragile trust that whispered: she might allow herself to forget... if only for a little while.

Blake's fingers on her felt like a slow burner. She was in a room with a man she barely knew but none of it mattered than his lips meeting hers, it was slow and deliberate. He worked his hands through her hair, grasping the back of her head and pulling her deeply into the kiss. His lips were provocatively sweet, the fresh taste of alcohol, he teased her by flicking his tongue around her lips, urging her to open more to his kiss. Anna obliged, seizing his lower lip between hers, she couldn't get enough of this, she wanted more , all of him. Leaning closer, she cupped her hand around his face and deepened the kiss. Blake's hand was on her shoulder, trailing his way into her jacket. One hand cupped her breast and she gasped in, moaning slightly. It felt so good to be touched, to be wanted. Blake's hand kneaded her breast softly before he dipped his hands into her bra, teasing her hardened nipples.

" Are you okay?" Bkake whispered quietly.

" Yeah I'm good.... I just.... I want you to fuck me" She hissed, flexing her hips to his erection.

Blake gave her a quick peck before rising to dim the light. He moved back gathering her into his arms and taking her to his bedroom. Gently laying her on the bed, he disposed of her clothings. Even from the candle light from the room, Blake could not help but admit she was beautiful.

He gently kissed her again, covering her legs with his thigh.He trailed kisses from her lips to her neck finding his way to her areola , before pulling her nipples into his mouth.he nibbed at them for a while sucking gently while fondling the other nipple.

" Please just fuck me" Anna roused, deeply turned on already.

Without wasting time, Blake swirled her on top of him. Anna grinned, allowing her settle on top of him. He reached out to his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, sheathing himself before sliding into her. They moved, each thrust sending them through a wave they both wanted.

BLAKE STIRRED AWAKE, the woman in his arms was gone. He sat up on the bed looking round the room. His shirt was missing,just then, he sighted her clothes neatly packed on the couch in his room. *She's still in the house* he thought as he stood up, wearing his trousers and buckling the flyer on his way out. He met her sitting at the window side, her attention sticked to the waves flowing gently at the river across his place. She had a glass of wine in her hand and he noticed the bottle was halfway through. Her hair flow gently with the air in the room.

" You found your way around". he said, after studying her for a while. She turned slowly and Blake felt his breath stuck in his throat. *She was insanely beautiful* Few strands of hair covered her face and Blake watched her little hand sweep it back her face. Hands that did crazy things to his body few hours ago. His groin tightened, reacting to his reminds of how they had spent the night.

" Just... Drinking " She replied in her sweet sexy voice.

" Mind if I join?" Bkake asked, sitting beside her and pouring himself a glass of wine before her consent.

" Yeah . Sure, I mean it's your place."

" I think it's ours" He said. " For the night" he replied when she shot him a look, raising his glass in a cheering motion before taking a gulp.

" I'm Blake"he said and it was just then Anna realized she didn't know who this stranger was.

" Anna. Anna Jenkins." She replied taking another shot.

" You're regular at The Bugs?"

" No. I just... Wanted to prepare myself for what's ahead."

" What's ahead? Mind telling what you have ahead". She took a deep breath before answering.

" I have an interview tomorrow. And I've never been in one before, I don't know what's going to come out of it but I have to get the job." She turned and he instantly saw how determined her eyes were." I really have to"

" Well, since you got called for an interview, there's higher chance you have a space. You just have to be smart in possessing the space. " Blake puts in, his eyes fixed at the ocean.

" Yeah . That's why an intimate night would do". Blake turned to look at her and something burned between them. Something strong and powerful he couldn't name.

" I'd better make the night one of the best and encouraging for your interview tomorrow" he said taking the glass off her hand's and setting it on the table.

" I'll meet you inside. I've got to do something really quick ". *The night was going to be a long one*

The room was dim, washed in the soft glow of the city lights sneaking through the open curtains. Anna stood by the window, her silhouette calm against the slow-moving river outside. She didn't move when Blake entered; she simply breathed, steady and quiet, as though she belonged to the silence itself.

Blake paused at the doorway, taking in the sight of her-the way her shoulders rose and fell gently, the way her hair cascaded down her back, catching the faint shimmer of the night. There was no urgency in him, just a slow, magnetic pull drawing him toward her.

He stepped closer, each stride soft on the carpet. Anna sensed him before she felt him. Her fingers, resting loosely at her sides, curled ever so slightly. When he reached her, he didn't touch her immediately. He simply stood behind her, close enough for warmth, far enough for permission.

The air shifted.

A gentle breeze drifted through the open window, lifting a strand of her hair. Blake reached forward, not with claim but with reverence, catching the strand with his fingertips and sweeping it tenderly behind her shoulder. His knuckles brushed her collarbone, light as a feather, sending a ripple down her spine.

Anna turned slowly.

Their eyes met-two strangers, bound by something neither had named. The distance between them dissolved without a sound. Blake lifted his hand again, this time letting his palm hover just at the curve of her cheek. She didn't lean away. Instead, her eyelids fluttered, welcoming the touch when he finally let his skin meet hers.

His thumb traced her cheekbone gently, as though learning the shape of someone he had dreamed of but never met. Anna's breath softened, her lips parting just a little. She reached up, her fingers brushing his wrist, not pulling him closer, just holding him there-saying yes without a single word.

Blake stepped nearer, closing the space until her chest rose against his. Her hand slid from his wrist to his shoulder, steadying herself as his touch moved to the small of her back. Their bodies aligned effortlessly, like two melodies finding harmony.

He lowered his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling in a slow, shared rhythm. She closed her eyes, her hands resting lightly on him, allowing the quiet gravity between them to draw her fully into his arms.

No words.

No promises.

Just two strangers wrapped in the hush of a night that felt impossibly tender.

And in that silence, they understood everything.

MORNING LIGHT SEEPED GENTLY the parted curtains of Blake's room, brushing across Anna's face like a soft, reluctant invitation to wake. She opened her eyes slowly, her mind momentarily blank as she tried to remember where she was. The unfamiliar ceiling, the faint luxury of the sheets, the masculine scent lingering in the air-everything came back to her in blurry waves. Last night. The club. Blake. His kindness. His room.

She turned her head.

Blake was still asleep beside her, his chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, and in the warm morning light, he looked even more intimidatingly attractive than the night before. But Anna didn't have the luxury of admiring him. Not today.

Her eyes widened.

Her body shot upright.

"Oh God," she whispered sharply, the panic cutting through her chest. "I'm late."

A heavy weight sank into her stomach as she scrambled off the bed. The interview. Her one shot. The chance she had stayed up too many nights preparing for. She cursed under her breath and ran into the bathroom. The shower was rushed, frantic, barely enough to rinse away the exhaustion of the previous night. She stepped out, wrapped in a towel, her mind already racing ahead.

She needed clothes.

She needed something-anything-she could wear that wouldn't make her look like a disaster.

She tore through the room, checking chairs, drawers, corners, even the wardrobe. Nothing. Not a single female outfit. Of course Blake, in all his tailored perfection and masculine charm, wouldn't have anything she could borrow.

She stood still for a moment, pressing both hands against her temples. Time was slipping away from her like water through cracked fingers. Then her eyes caught Blake's trousers lying over a chair. A white shirt hanging loosely beside it. An idea struck-desperate, ridiculous, but an idea nonetheless.

"Fine," she muttered breathlessly. "Let's make this work."

She slipped into Blake's trousers, folding, cuffing, and adjusting until they fit around her waist. She tied the shirt at her midsection, styled the collar, and used a hair tie to cinch the back for shape. She checked herself briefly in the mirror.

Shockingly-she looked... good. A bold kind of good. Confident, intentional, sharp.

She grabbed her bag, took one last look at Blake's sleeping form-still peaceful, unaware-and rushed out of the room like her life depended on it.

The company building towered over her like a challenge. Sleek glass, iron confidence, and the cold promise of opportunity. Anna swallowed hard as she hurried up the steps, her heartbeat pounding from both nerves and the sprint she had made from the cab to the entrance.

She pushed through the front doors-only to be stopped immediately.

The receptionist, a woman with overly polished nails and a permanently sour expression, lifted a manicured hand to block her.

"You're late," she said slowly, almost gleefully. "The interview started thirty minutes ago."

"I know, I know, and I'm really sorry," Anna pleaded. "Something happened this morning, and I- I couldn't make it on time. But I've been preparing for this for months. Please. Just let me in. I can still do the interview."

The receptionist raised a brow so high it nearly touched her hairline. "Late is late. There's no 'still' in corporate structure, sweetheart. Rules are rules."

Anna's chest tightened. She stepped closer. "Please. I need this job. I really do. Just give me five minutes. Just let someone know I'm here."

"No," the receptionist snapped, crossing her arms.

Anna felt the panic deep in her bones. All her hope, everything she had fought to prepare for-slipping away because she had overslept. Because she had a strange, beautiful, reckless night. Because she had trusted the universe to give her a chance.

Her voice broke.

"Please," she whispered.

But the receptionist only shrugged, fully enjoying her distress. "You can wait if you want. But nobody is going to call you in."

So Anna sat down at the lobby corner, hugging her bag to her chest. Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. Not here. Not now. She would wait. Even if it meant hours. Even if it meant embarrassment. She wasn't giving up-not yet.

She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed silently, hoping-desperately-that a savior would walk through those doors.

Blake woke to the soft echo of silence.

He stretched slightly, letting his senses adjust. The sunlight was gentle, the air cool, and for the first time in months, his morning felt strangely... peaceful. He turned his head toward the other side of his bed.

Empty.

His brows furrowed. He sat up.

"Anna?" he called softly, even though he already knew she was gone.

The sheets were cold. Her bag wasn't there. Her presence-a spark of unexpected warmth-had already vanished.

But instead of disappointment, something else tugged at him. A memory. Her voice from the night before.

"I have an interview tomorrow..."

So she had left for that. Dedication. Ambition. A kind of quiet fire he had noticed the moment he met her.

Blake ran a hand through his hair and exhaled.

He had known her for less than a day. He didn't even know her favorite color, her age, her past, or her story. Yet he found himself intrigued in a way he rarely ever was. Anna was different. There was something raw and unfiltered about her-something delicate but strong. A woman who carried storms inside her but walked like sunlight.

He hoped-truly hoped-that he would run into her again.

Even though life rarely granted such luxuries.

He showered, dressed in his usual tailored elegance, and grabbed his keys. His schedule was packed, and his company never slept. As he stepped out of his car at the main entrance, his personal secretary-Pamela-was already waiting, heels clicking, tablet in hand.

"Good morning, sir," she greeted briskly. "We have three rescheduled meetings, two marketer evaluations, and the board wants your approval on the pending project budgets before lunch."

Blake nodded as they both walked toward the elevator.

"Send the documents to my office," he said.

"Yes, sir. Also, the interview process for the new marketing interns began thirty minutes ago-"

Pamela suddenly stopped talking.

So did Blake.

Because out of the corner of his eye-sitting alone at the far edge of the lobby-was Anna.

Looking small.

Defeated.

But wearing his clothes.

Blake stared, his breath catching for a fraction of a second. She had styled his shirt and trousers so effortlessly, it looked like she belonged in them. Like she belonged... here.

His expression shifted-an amused, fascinated softness touching his features. "Why is she here?" he asked quietly.

Pamela followed his gaze. "Oh-her? She came for the interview. She arrived late, so she was denied entry."

Blake's jaw tightened. "Denied?"

"Yes, sir. The receptionist insisted-"

"Take her to the interview room," Blake said immediately. "I'll supervise the process myself."

Pamela's eyes widened as though she had seen a ghost. "You-sir, you never attend recruitment evaluations."

"Today I will."

"But-"

"Pamela."

She straightened instantly. "Yes, sir. I'll take her right away."

She hurried off, heels tapping with renewed urgency, still deeply shocked by Blake's unexpected command.

Anna had been seconds away from standing up and leaving-accepting defeat, accepting the cruel twist of fate-when someone approached the receptionist.

They whispered. The receptionist's face immediately changed. Her eyes darted sharply toward Anna, annoyance replaced with a forced professional mask.

"You," she called grudgingly. "Come with me."

Anna blinked. "Me?"

"Yes. Follow me."

The receptionist didn't hide her irritation as she led Anna down the hall.

Anna's heart raced. What was happening? Why the sudden change? Why now?

But she followed silently, confusion mixing with hope until they reached a door. The moment it opened, Anna's breath caught.

Inside sat several neatly dressed candidates waiting for their turn.

The interview room.

She wasn't late anymore. She wasn't locked out. She wasn't losing her chance.

The receptionist stepped aside. "Go in."

Anna entered slowly, still stunned.

Something-someone-had saved her.

And she had no idea who.

But relief washed over her like warm sunlight. Her chest loosened. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second.

She had a chance again.

And she wasn't letting it slip away.

ANNA SAT IN THE sleek, modern waiting area, her fingers lightly tapping against the edge of the chair, her legs crossed neatly. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and coffee, a subtle reminder of corporate efficiency. She kept her posture straight, reminding herself to stay composed, even as her mind raced. The interview was important-this could change everything-and she forced herself to focus. Each tick of the clock on the wall seemed to stretch time, but she remained calm, almost serene, letting the anxiety simmer beneath the surface rather than letting it show.

She observed the other candidates, all busy adjusting ties, clearing their throats, checking phones. Anna didn't need to perform any of that. She had prepared, she had memorized strategies, marketing approaches, and even the company's recent campaigns. All that was left was patience.

Minutes passed, and then the door to the boardroom opened, and a few executives stepped in. Anna's attention was immediately captured, and her breath caught-because there, at the center of the board, sat Blake. Blake, with that same magnetic presence that had consumed her the previous night.He looked... normal. Professional. Like he was simply another board member conducting business. No trace of the wild, electric night they had shared lingered on his expression. He didn't smirk, he didn't glance her way with a hint of recognition. He was entirely unreadable.

Anna's heart skipped a beat, and a slow realization dawned on her. He was the one behind this. He'd arranged for her to be interviewed again. All the connections, the push she hadn't understood before-it made sense now. And yet, the calm, collected look he maintained made it impossible to guess what he was thinking. It was as if the previous night-the intoxication, the closeness, the heat-they had shared never happened at all.

She sat even straighter, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her notebook on her lap. She would not falter. She would not give him-or anyone-an indication of the storm that surged within her. She was just another candidate waiting her turn, patient, composed, and determined.

Her pulse, though, betrayed her. Every so often, her eyes flicked toward him discreetly, catching his profile, his posture, the way he tapped a pen against the table absentmindedly. The contrast between the man in front of her and the man from last night was jarring, and yet, oddly thrilling. She reminded herself to breathe, to wait, to be patient. Soon, it would be her turn to step into that boardroom-and she would walk in not as a woman marked by desire or surprise, but as a professional ready to claim her place.

Soon her name was called into the room. Be calm Anna you've prepared for this

" Miss Jenkins, why should we hire you over the ten other applicants who have more experience in wine marketing than you?"

Anna took a deep breath, preparing herself once again for the battle ahead. " Because experience means little without innovation. I understand the traditional market, but I also understand how to capture modern consumers through digital story telling and data- driven campaigns". There was a nod among the boards before another member spoke.

"Interesting. How would you reposition a poorly performing red wine brand that hasn't sold in the past six months?"

" Firstly, I'd study the target market; their taste preference, age range and where they spend their time. Then I'd redesign the label for better shelf appeal, use influence marketing platforms and launch limited time offers with user generated content campaigns "

"What's the most important element in advertising a luxury wine product?" The only woman in the board asked. Till now, Blake had barely spoken a word , he just sat, watching her.

" Emotions. You're not selling grapes. You're selling celebration, exclusivity, and taste. The imagery, language and even background music must reflect that."

" And if a budget cut slashes 40 percentage of your marketing spend?" Mr Kingsley asked leaning towards her.

" I'd double down on high RO platforms. Cut traditional ads, push SEO, email campaigns, retargeting, and brand partnerships. Quality over quantity."

"She's not here to play " the woman whispered to Kingsley. They were both taking in low tunes until Blake cleared his throat.

" What's our biggest weakness?" Blake asked, his gaze boring deep in Anna. This wasn't about an interview alone. He was scaling how smart she is.

"Your digital presence. Your website is outdated, SEO is weak, and you're barely engaging social platforms. In this era, a premium wine should have premium visibility. " You seem confident. What makes you think you can survive the pressure here?" Blake asked.

" I've survived worse than pressure. I thrive on challenge, and I don't fold. Give me a chance and I'll prove that no one will sell Valencia better than I will."

" Interesting" Mr Kingsley said as e eyed her, intrigued. Blake wasn't done yet. " You talk a good game, but this is a male dominated boardroom. What makes you think we'll listen to you ?"

"You don't have to listen to me. Just watch the numbers after I'm hired" Anna replied calmly but firmly.

" And what if we don't hire you? " Blake asked rising to his feet. Everyone from the boardroom rose along with him.

" Then you'll hire someone safer and in six months, you'll still be having this same meeting, wondering why your numbers haven't moved. There was silence as Blake stepped away, moving to the door. " I want you here tomorrow by 5." He said and walked out of the room.

Yes Anna couldn't hide her joy more better. She did it! Finally she's going to get the best medical attention for her brother. Anna stepped out of the boardroom with her heart still pounding-not from the questions, not from Blake's unreadable stare-but from the weight that had been sitting on her chest since morning.

She didn't even wait to reach the lobby.

Her hands trembled as she dug out her phone, scrolling immediately to the name she had called too many times in her life.

She pressed call.

It rang once. Twice.

And then his soft, familiar inhale came through the speaker.

"Anna?"

Her breath broke a little. "Hey, sweetheart... how are you feeling?"

There was a long silence-too long. She knew that silence; it meant he was overwhelmed, trying to gather words that didn't want to line up for him.

"I didn't like when you left ," he finally whispered. "Everything felt... wrong."

Anna closed her eyes, her throat tightening.

"I'm so sorry, Jay. I didn't want to leave you. I just... I had to go for the interview."

"You didn't say bye."

A tremor in his voice-so small, but it stabbed straight into her.

"I know," she breathed. "I know. I rushed. I should have said it. I should have looked at you before I left. I'm so sorry that I didn't."

On the other end, she heard the faint clicking noise-his fingers tapping his wristband, the one he used when he was anxious.

"Did they shout at you?" he asked suddenly.

"People always shout during interviews."

She swallowed a shaky laugh. "They asked very hard questions, but I answered them. I think... I think I did okay."

"You did good," he said immediately, with absolute certainty. "You're always good when you try."

That undid her. Her eyes blurred.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Are you coming now?"

Hope. Fear. Need.

"I am," she said softly. "I'm leaving here soon. I just wanted to hear your voice first."

Another pause.

"Anna... I was scared today."

Her breath hitched. "Why?"

"Because the nurse closed the curtain and the lights felt different. I don't like when things change."

A small, shaking inhale. "And I couldn't ask for you because I knew you were busy."

Her free hand pressed against her heart.

"Oh, Jay... you can always ask for me. Busy or not. I'll come."

She heard the quiet rustle of him nodding.

Then, in his small, honest voice:

"I want you to come now. Please."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm already on my way."

"Okay..." His voice softened, fragile but calmer now. "I'll wait. I'll count the ceiling dots so time goes faster."

She smiled through the ache. "You do that, sweetheart. I'll be there soon."

"Okay... bye, Anna."

"Bye, my love."

The call ended, and Anna stood there for a moment, letting the weight of everything settle-her brother's fear, her exhaustion, the interview, Blake's cold eyes pretending nothing had happened.

Then she wiped her face, straightened her shoulders, and walked toward the exit-because Jay was waiting, and he always came first.