"No way! This is ridiculous!" Charles bellows. "How do we give such an important project to an assistant?"
The boardroom erupts into chaos. Voices rise, some angry, some incredulous, and others just plain confused. "This is a mistake!" one executive mutters. "She's not qualified!" another adds.
I can feel the weight of their words pressing down on me. I felt like the world was shifting around me, everyone suddenly looking at me as if I'd done something wrong.
As if I've walked into a room where I don't belong. My heart pounds in my chest, and I grip my hands tightly in my lap to keep them from trembling.
What is happening?
My name is Sophia Martins, and I have worked as a junior assistant at Munroe Conglomerate for two years. I ensure meetings run smoothly, fix problems before anyone notices, and stay invisible while ensuring everything gets done. I know the systems better than most executives and have quietly contributed to significant projects propelling this company forward.
But the credit? That always goes to someone else.
And I was okay with that. Mostly. I've always hoped for a promotion to show that my work mattered, but I never imagined it happening like this.
But now? Now, everything is changing.
Charles's voice rings out again, sharp and louder this time. "This is outrageous! You can't expect us to hand over Project Phoenix to an assistant. She's never led a project in her life!"
The uproar deepens, and I can feel the walls closing in. I want to shrink into my chair, to disappear completely. My chest tightens as their protests grow louder.
Why did this have to happen in front of everyone? Why me?
I glance around the room. The executives' faces are complex, judgmental, and unmoving. Men and women in power suits who have spent years in this company, some practically running it alongside Alexander Munroe himself.
And then there's me, just a junior assistant.
My palms are slick with sweat, and the pounding in my ears makes it hard to hear anything else.
And then, Alexander speaks. His voice cuts through the clamor, cold and firm. "Are you questioning my decision?" The room goes dead silent.
The change in the atmosphere is instant. The tension in the air thickens. as his voice cuts through the chaos like a whip. Everyone in the room breathes as if waiting for the storm to break.
I glance at Alexander across the room. His icy blue eyes lock onto Charles, unwavering and unblinking, and his tone is cold, firm, and final.
It's almost like he's daring him to say more, but Charles swallows hard, the words choking off in his throat.
I can't help it. My gaze flickers back to Alexander, and I forget where I am for a split second. There's a presence to him, an energy that draws my attention like a magnet. He stands tall and composed at the head of the table, every inch the powerful CEO. Alexander looks as unshakable as ever. His posture is flawless, his tailored suit immaculate, and his dark hair perfectly combed.
And that face. Sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline, it's the kind of face you'd expect to see on magazine covers, not behind the head of a billion-dollar empire. My gaze lingers a moment too long, and my stomach does a little flip. It's not the first time I've noticed how attractive he is, but standing in this room with his entire focus on asserting his authority feels overwhelming.
And yet... there's a specific vulnerability behind his eyes, a quiet intensity that makes me wonder who the man behind the CEO is. I tear my eyes away, my cheeks burning as I try to refocus. Stop it, Sophia. Now is not the time.
"Charles!" Alexander's tone is calm but commanding, his voice low but firm. If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it."