THE RETURN OF THE CEO'S SECRETARY

Black had transformed into my shield, my safeguard, my core identity. While I straightened my

blazer before the mirror, I took a calming breath. Today was the moment. I was no longer the

innocent, obedient girl who thought that love and kindness could solve all problems. That girl

had passed away five years prior, broken by treachery and grief.

Currently, I am Victoria Dantes. A name that inspired respect, murmured softly wherever I went.

The world may have broken me, yet I returned-more powerful.

A knock at the door broke my concentration. I stood up straight, giving my appearance one last

look before saying, "Come in."

Ethan, my assistant, entered. His deep-set eyes looked me over for an instant before he offered

a small nod. "The vehicle is prepared, madam."

I nodded and grinned, although there was no sincerity in it. "Let's get going, then."

The journey to the company was peaceful, punctuated only by the engine's hum and Ethan's

occasional attempts at chitchat. I didn't reply, far too absorbed in my reflections. My mother-in-law, the sole person who had genuinely backed me, made it certain I was ready for this

moment. Everything was coming together. This was my moment.

The vehicle halted gently, and Ethan exited first, looking around for any potential dangers. He

held the door open for me, and I walked onto the chilly marble floor, my heels striking crisply in

the otherwise quiet surroundings.

Inside, the boardroom doors stood wide open, and the conversation within ceased abruptly as I

entered. Everyone's gaze was directed at me-anxiety, unease, and, in one section, a hint of

what I could nearly identify as respect. I remained upright, allowing the quiet to linger in the

atmosphere.

I spotted my father-in-law at the far side of the table. His lips twisted into a somewhat smug grin,

but a flicker of uncertainty sparkled in his eyes. He wasn't acquainted with this aspect of me.

Nobody else was either.

"Are we ready to start?" I inquired, maintaining a calm and steady tone as I settled into my chair

at the table. From the look on their faces, they were not expecting their largest share to be own

by a young lady like me.

My father-in-law coughed gently. "Sure. Now, let's proceed to the forecasts for the upcoming

quarter."

I maintained my focus, overlooking the slight change in his stance. He was not accustomed to

facing challenges. It was time for him to realize the rules had shifted.

I spoke to the board, detailing the company's future actions with clarity. I was aware they

anticipated I would stumble, to err, yet they misjudged me. I had gained wisdom from my

experiences, and now I was invincible.

Midway through the meeting, my father-in-law attempted to interrupt with a question on resource

distribution, trying to sidetrack my presentation. His tone was saturated with disdain, yet I

remained unaffected.

"Honestly," I stated, elevating my tone slightly to capture everyone's focus, "I've already

considered the possible challenges. By examining the numbers on the fifth page of the report,

you'll notice that we have contingency strategies established."

He blinked, evidently taken aback, and looked down at the documents before him. "Ah, indeed.

Clearly, you have given this some consideration."

"Naturally," I responded effortlessly. "Unlike others, I always remember the specifics."

The other board members fidgeted uneasily, yet I sensed their respect increasing. I was no

longer the girl they could overlook. I am Victoria Dantès.

The meeting went on, but I wasn't fully focused on the figures. My gaze continually wandered to

a single individual. Williams. The man who used to mean everything to me. His eyes stayed

locked on me, inscrutable. Yet there was something-something present. Could it be guilt?

Regret?

As the meeting began to end, I stood up, collecting my documents.

"Thanks to all of you. Let's meet again next week." I spoke, facing the door.

However, when I approached the doorway, a hand suddenly emerged and seized my arm.

I stopped moving. Williams.

His touch was shocking, a reminder of the history I had concealed. I brushed it off swiftly,

maintaining my composure. "Do you need anything or have anything to say Mr. Blackwell?" I

asked, my tone icy.

"Victoria," he spoke gently, his voice nearly filled with awe, "Your voice... it resembles the voice

of someone from my past." His gaze penetrated mine with a fervor that sent a chill through my

body. "You bring to mind someone... someone truly precious."

I lifted an eyebrow, a faint smile curling my lips. "Then go find her," I said bluntly, freeing my arm

from his hold.

For an instant, I believed I noticed a glimmer of something-remorse?-in his gaze, but I didn't

linger long enough to explore. I stepped outside without saying anything else.

That evening, my mother-in-law welcomed me with a friendly smile as I walked into our house.

She sat in her beloved chair, holding a glass of wine, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"How did it turn out?" she inquired, placing the glass down.

I let out a sigh, settling into the chair opposite her. "It happened as anticipated. My father-in-law

attempted to provoke me, but I managed it."

She laughed gently. "Certainly you did. They're likely all feeling frightened at this moment."

I grinned. "That's the concept."

She observed me for a while, then agreed. "Alright. However, remember-this is just the

beginning. You have larger challenges ahead of you."

I rose from my seat and headed towards the stairs to prepare for the evening event The

Blackwell hosted for me as their biggest Investor who just arrived. The black diamond dress I

chose sparkled under the lights as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Severe. Guarantee.

Invincible.

While I descended the magnificent staircase, all eyes were on me. The space descended into a

soft buzz. There were murmurs, yet I wasn't paying attention. I was focused on just one

individual-Emma. My sister, whom I hadn't encountered in years.

Her presence struck me like a blow to the gut. She had developed. Altered. I made myself

concentrate.

Then my gaze fixed on him-Williams. He was positioned at the other end of the room,

chuckling at something my closest friend had mentioned.

I inched forward, observing the crowd when something drew my attention.

A small child.

I inhaled sharply. Westley.

My heart came to a halt. The baby I had given birth to in a frigid, dim jail. The child was removed

from my care. There he stood, directly in front of me. His gaze-his gaze belonged to me.

Those identical eyes.

I wobbled, the world whirling around me.

"Ethan!" I murmured. He grabbed my arm right as my knees gave way.

While my bodyguards guided me to the restroom, I struggled to think, my mind whirling with the

sight of my son-my son, beside my closest friend, as though he was now hers.

In the restroom, I gathered my composure in front of the mirror. My breathing was light, my

hands shaking. I fixed my diamond necklace and adjusted my dress, trying to push aside the

feelings that were about to overwhelm me.

"Pull yourself together," I whispered under my breath. You are Victoria Dantes.

I came back to the gathering with a refreshed sense of direction. The atmosphere became quiet

when I walked in, my heels the sole noise disrupting the stillness. I navigated through the crowd,

nodding to everyone with a relaxed smile.

Yet I didn't take my eyes off Williams. His gaze trailed after me, ensnared in a wordless

struggle.

After that, I noticed her. Bella, my closest friend who deceived me and got married to my

husband. She stood next to him, her hand resting on his arm. And next to them, my son.

Westley.

Then my gaze returned to my sister Emma.

Emma glanced my way, her eyes widening in disbelief. Her hand darted to her chest.

"I knew it," she exclaimed, her voice shaking with astonishment. "I always believed you were still

alive! I was aware of it!"

Her finger was directed right at me. "She is alive! My sister is alive!"

My heart raced; I knew my sister would still recognize me, even with the plastic surgery I

underwent to alter my looks. I noticed the sorrow in her gaze, but I refuse to allow her to spoil

my intentions; they must suffer!

The room exploded into disorder. All eyes were on me. Williams appeared as if he had been hit.

My father-in-law's jaw stiffened, yet his expression revealed nothing.

I remained in that spot, sensing the burden of their gazes. The strain was overwhelming, yet I

remained steadfast.

The crowd was observing now. And I was prepared to show them.

Pandemonium broke out as Emma's words pierced the atmosphere, blaming me for being

someone I could no longer afford to become. My calmness faltered for an instant, a flash, a

fracture, but I regained my poise before the disguise slipped entirely. I had devoted years to

refining it, and I wasn't going to allow my sister to destroy it all.

"That's my sister, Sophia!" she shouted, gesturing straight at me.

Her words struck me like a tangible impact, yet I compelled my mouth into a serene, rehearsed

grin. My heart pounded against my chest, yet I remained upright, asserting control over my

shaking hands. The gaze of each guest penetrated me, their skepticism and intrigue evident. I

sensed Williams watching me, and even more troubling, I could sense his acknowledgment.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I announced, my voice unwavering, my mask securely in position. "I

comprehend how sorrow can result in... bewilderment. Miss Emma is likely flooded with her

feelings". I faced her, speaking gently yet with intention. "I sincerely apologize for your loss;

however, I am Victoria Dantes.I am not who you think I am."

Whispers flowed throughout the space. Emma began to speak, yet the uncertainty in her gaze

was sufficient for me to change the outcome.

Williams moved closer then, his voice steady yet tinged with an undertone that constricted my

throat. "Emma," he said, keeping his eyes on me, "you're wrong. Let's not escalate the

situation."

Her objections faded as Bella yanked her away, yet her gaze remained fixated on mine,

brimming with urgency and conviction.

I didn't see her leave. Rather, I faced the guests, presenting a courteous smile. "I apologize for

the disruption. Kindly, relish the evening."

Eventually, I quietly left the hall, looking for comfort in the peaceful corridors. The outdoor air

was crisp and refreshing, nipping at my skin, yet it grounded me. I rested against the chilly stone

wall, inhaling slowly, attempting to calm the turmoil swirling within me.

"You aren't the person you claim to be."

I became immobilized.

Williams emerged from the darkness, his stare fierce and unwavering.

"Mr. Blackwell", I said calmly, facing him with a grin that failed to touch my eyes. "Is there

anything I can assist you with?"

He overlooked my inquiry, moving nearer, his tone subdued. "You make me think of someone,"

he remarked. "Someone I believed I had lost for all time."

My heart raced loudly in my ears, yet I remained unfazed. "You must be confused."

"I am not." His gaze wandered across my face, looking for fissures in my mask. "Your tone...

your gestures." Even your flame. "It's all identical."

I kept his gaze, compelling myself to stay serene. "Sadness can cause us to perceive things that

don't exist," I murmured gently. "I'm sorry for your loss, but I am not the person you seek."

For a brief instant, I believed he would say something further, but Diana's voice sliced through

the tension like a knife.

"Williams," she retorted, her heels striking decisively against the ground. "What are you up to?"

He faced her, and I took the chance to sneak away, my heart racing as I distanced myself from

them.

That evening, while I rested in bed, the recollections came back. The flames, the fumes, the

stifling warmth. The cries that pierced the night. I shut my eyes and imagined my hands

grasping at the rubble, sensed the heat of resolve within my heart.

Westley's face appeared, the sole illumination in that boundless darkness. I held onto his

memory as if it were a lifeline, vowing to myself that I would come back for him.

"I'll make sure to return the favor," I murmured into the stillness. "Regardless of the effort

required."

The next day, I met my mother-in-law at my study.

The space was gently lit, the heavy drapes drawn, and the air filled with the faint scent of old

books and enigmas.

"This agreement," she remarked, pushing a folder in my direction, "will reveal Johnson's

dominance. It's time to act."

I nodded while reviewing the papers. "What's the situation with Diana?"

"She's falling apart," she remarked with a slight grin. "Utilize it. Allow them to annihilate one

another. That's the essential part."

I shut the file, my determination strengthening. "They will be unaware of what has struck them."

That night, I participated in a confidential meeting with Mr. Johnson. He welcomed me with that

self-satisfied, hunting grin, his gaze staying a moment too long.

"Victoria, you're truly a mystery," he remarked, moving in closer. "A captivating lady."

The revulsion twisted in my belly, yet I kept it hidden. "Thanks," I replied nonchalantly, shifting

the discussion towards business.

While we talked, I sowed seeds of uncertainty regarding Diana's loyalty, nurturing his paranoia.

He fell for the bait, his pride preventing him from seeing the trap I was laying.

As night fell deeper, I found myself once more in the shadows, observing from afar while

Williams, Bella, and Westley shared laughter in the garden. My child. His laughter cut deep into

my heart, and his sweet smile reminded me of all I had lost.

I wished to dash to him and embrace him, yet I couldn't. Not at this time.

Out of nowhere, Diana showed up, bending down to murmur something into his ear. His smile

wavered, giving way to uncertainty and discomfort. My hands balled into fists at my sides, rage

igniting in my chest.

"Victoria, constantly observing but never taking action," a voice lilted from behind me.

I spun around suddenly, my heart racing, to find Johnson standing there, his hands placed in his

pockets. His demeanor was composed and strategic, his grin as pointed as a knife.

"You appear quite misplaced in the darkness," he commented. "It seems like you might be

concealing something."

I compelled myself to unwind, presenting a serene, impartial smile. "Simply savoring the

evening breeze. It has been an extensive day."

"Has it really?" His eyes darted to the garden where Westley was positioned, causing a knot to

form in my stomach. "You have been observing him frequently in recent times."

I raised an eyebrow, maintaining a calm tone. "He is an exceptional boy. It's difficult to overlook

him."

Johnson leaned his head, observing me. "You're truly enigmatic, Victoria. So collected, so...

balanced. You bring to mind a certain person."

The color left my face, but I didn't reveal it. "I believe that grief is deceiving you, Mr. Johnson," I

stated calmly. "Individuals commonly perceive what they desire to perceive."

He laughed softly, yet it held no amusement. "Maybe," he replied, his eyes narrowing a bit.

"However, you need to exercise caution. People are talking about you, Victoria. Hints implying

that you might not be the person you portray you are."

My heart raced, yet I revealed nothing. "And what is it that these whispers convey?"

He moved nearer, his voice tinged with feigned worry. "That you could have your own

objectives, Maybe your allegiances... aren't aligned where they ought to be."

I maintained his stare, unwavering. "I don't understand what you're saying, Mr. Johnson.

However, I guarantee you, my sole purpose here is for business."

His smirk reappeared, more cutting than before. "For your benefit, I hope that is accurate. In my

experience, deception usually comes to light. Once they do... it all becomes chaotic."

He pivoted and strolled off, leaving me frozen in place. My chest constricted, the burden of his

words heavy upon me.

Johnson didn't yet realize I was Sophia-but his curiosity posed a threat. He was a hunter,

circling, waiting for the right moment to strike.

I looked back at the garden, at Westley's face illuminated by the moonlight. The risks had never

seemed greater.

As the chilly night breeze enveloped me, I whispered an unspoken promise. No matter the cost,

I would remain one step in front. Johnson could go in circles all he wanted. Once he understood

the reality, it would already be too late.

As I strolled down the hallway, eager to head home, I suddenly noticed a shadow trailing behind

me; before I could look back, it covered my mouth. "I understand your motive, and I won't allow

you to destroy all that I've created. You had better back out, or you'll end up like the rest."

Shadow exclaimed, dragging me into the darkness while I fought back.

I strode down the corridor, anxious to shed the oppressive burden of the day. The flickering

lights above produced inconsistent shadows on the walls, twisting everything into forms I

couldn't fully identify.

I quickened my steps, heels tapping rhythmically on the tiled surface, yet the unsettling

sensation remained, as if invisible eyes were observing me.

Then I saw it-a shadow shifting in time with mine.

I halted suddenly, my heart racing within my chest. The shadow halted as well.

Just as I was about to turn, a powerful arm seized my waist, yanking me back, while a hand

firmly covered my mouth. I flailed, kicking and fighting, but my assailant was too powerful.

"stop struggling," the voice whispered, deep and malicious. "I'm aware of your motive, and I

won't allow you to destroy all that I've created."

The words arrived with a clear, undeniable menace. My heart raced as I struggled to escape.

"You should be cautious," the voice murmured in my ear, every word chilling. "One wrong step,

and you'll be with them. This is the sole warning you will receive."

With a sudden push, I was let go, and I fell ahead, struggling to breathe. As I turned around,

they had vanished, fading into the darkness.

I leaned on the wall, my breathing uneven, my body shaking. My thoughts sped. Who was that?

What was their level of knowledge?

The fragrance of their cologne remained-a subtle, musky aroma I couldn't fully identify. It was

unknown, yet it served as a hint. A minor, incriminating hint.

I stood up straight, burying the panic inside. Whoever that was, they still had unfinished

business with me. And at this moment, I was uncertain about whom to trust.

Later that evening, Emma burst into my house, her expression fierce with resolve. She didn't

hesitate, throwing a folder onto my desk.

"You're not the person you claim to be," she stated, her voice trembling yet determined. "You

are Sophia."

I didn't react, maintaining a neutral expression.

"You're wrong," I responded tersely.

Emma moved nearer, her voice becoming louder. "Quit deceiving! I've protected you for a

sufficient time, but they're getting closer. This is no longer solely about you!"

" Wow, tell me more". I said smiling at her as I pour out a glass of wine.

" You know exactly what I'm saying, I just need you to listen to me". Emma said as she brushed

her hair with her fingers.

"But I can't remember asking you to make any research or get any information for me. I feel you

have not gotten over the death of your sister and I understand that but can you please stop

calling me the name Sofia? I'm sick and tired of all these. Please do not come over to my place

with these matter and I will advise you stay clear from your sister's case because the people

who hunted her might decide to hunt you too". I said as I held back my tears. I didn't wish to talk

to my sister in this manner but I had to do so, so she can stay clear and not ruin my plans. I

don't want their eyes on her.

"You can't fool me and I won't rest till I got the whole prove that you are my sister because I

believe you got a surgery done on your face just to deceive them not me". Emma said angrily.

The debate continued until, exasperated, Emma ultimately left in a huff. I observed her

departure, yet the pressure in my chest refused to diminish.

The stillness caused by Emma's absence hung over the house like an unwanted shadow, yet I

dismissed it. There were more urgent issues to address. Upon reaching the office, I ensured

that each step I took reflected assurance. The sound of my heels on the marble floor was

intentional, a declaration of my arrival. I hardly recognized the staff with a brief nod while

heading to my office.

The moment I entered, I noticed him. Williams. He was already standing, his expression a blend

of annoyance and resolve. His stance was rigid, as if he had practiced his opening statement for

hours.

"Victoria," he started, his voice attempting and not succeeding to sound steady. "We should

discuss the business. The plans for expansion are urgent, and if we postpone-"

I lifted a hand, easily interrupting him. "I can't deal with this at the moment, Williams," I replied,

my voice steady yet uninterested.

"However-"

"I need to go to a meeting," I cut in, picking up my coat and bag. Before he had the chance to

speak again, I cast him a measured smile. "I'll provide you with a location for dinner. We can

talk about it at that time."

I did not wait for an answer. I pivoted and walked away, leaving him to simmer in whatever

unresolved anger he was experiencing.

Later in the afternoon, while I was in my favorite spot in the lounge, enjoying my coffee and

reading through emails, my phone vibrated. The name displayed on the screen brought a smile

to my face, though not in a way that most would anticipate.

"Victoria," the recognizable voice of Williams' father called out. His tone possessed that refined

allure he consistently employed so effectively. "I would like to have dinner with you this evening.

I have something significant that I want to talk about."

Oh, I understood precisely what this was concerning. He believed he was playing chess, but I

had already shifted my queen.

"Certainly," I responded effortlessly, maintaining a cheerful tone. "I'll message you the location."

And I went ahead. The same address I had assured his son before. It was nearly flawless.

The restaurant embodied elegance-golden light cascading from chandeliers, gentle music

playing softly in the background, and a soothing murmur of conversation among the affluent. I

got there ahead of time, of course, and selected a table that provided me with the optimal view

of the entrance.

I requested a glass of wine, allowing its deep scent to soothe my eagerness. When Williams

made his entrance, he dominated the atmosphere. Lanky, pointed, and excruciatingly unaware

of what I had initiated.

His gaze roamed the area until it located me. He approached, his actions strained yet exact.

"Victoria," he acknowledged, his tone steady, although his jaw was clenched.

"Williams," I answered, allowing a rehearsed grin to grace my face.

He sat opposite me, leaning forward as if he was about to dive into a conversation regarding the

business. However, before he could start at all, the door swung open once more.

I noticed him first-father of Williams. His confidence was evident, his pace relaxed as he

approached our table. When he spotted me, his face brightened with a grin that would have

caused any other woman to flutter.

"Victoria," he remarked affectionately, grasping my hand in his as if he possessed the instant.

"Mr. Johnson," I responded with similar charm, standing up to welcome him.

I didn't have to glance to realize Williams had shifted in his seat, standing up. I sensed the

heaviness of his understanding looming like a storm cloud behind me.

As his father moved closer to me, his hand softly grazing my arm, I noticed Williams' response

from the edge of my vision. His jaw stiffened. His hands balled into fists. Oh, how tantalizingly

expected.

I moved closer to the elder Blackwell, allowing my body language to suggest closeness without

revealing too much. As he leaned closer, seemingly to kiss my cheek, I turned my head just a

bit-just enough to provide Williams the ideal angle.

His eyes deepened in color, his stance tense with controlled anger.

I grinned, a sense of fulfillment quietly growing inside me.

"We should take our seat?" I suggested, my voice casual and carefree, as if entirely unaware of

the tension humming in the atmosphere.

Williams took some time to reply. His eyes remained on his father's hand resting on my arm until

he eventually turned and settled into his chair.

While we were seated, I reclined, my wine glass held gently in my hand. I took a tiny sip,

relishing not only the taste but the experience itself.

They believed they were the ones in control, but I had already crafted the screenplay. This was

more than just a meal-it was a meticulously crafted reminder.

Authority isn't granted; it's seized. And this evening, it belonged to me.