“Yes.”
“They cost time. They cost control.”
“Yes.”
“And I don’t keep people who cost me either.”
“I understand.”
Avery inhales sharply, like she’s waiting for the axe to fall.
It doesn’t.
Not yet.
I look at Violet for a long moment. Long enough that she knows I’m deciding something.
Then I say, “Return to your desk.”
Avery’s head snaps toward me.
Violet doesn’t react at all.
“Double-check every routing setting,” I continue. “You don’t leave tonight until you’re certain it won’t happen again.”
“Yes, Mr. Ashcroft.”
She turns immediately, precise, professional, already moving.
As she reaches the door, I add, “Pierce.”
She stops.
Turns back.
“Yes?”
My gaze flicks once-quick, sharp-to her shoes. To the slight scuff at the toe.Tue, May 5
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t.”
She leaves.
The door closes softly behind her.
Avery exhales like she’s been holding her breath. “Rowan, I don’t think it’s fair to-“
I finally look at her.
She stops talking.
Because fairness has nothing to do with how this building runs.
And Violet Pierce just did something most people never survive-
She made a mistake.
And walked out still employed.
Which means she’s either more valuable than she realizes-
Or I’m not finished with her yet.
Avery’s composure lasts exactly three seconds.
Then it shatters.
“That’s it?” she snaps, spinning toward me the second the door clicks shut behind Violet. “You’re just going to let her walk out after screwing up your direct line?”
I don’t look up as I return to my desk. I set my phone down. Align the folder in front of me. Reclaim the order she disrupted just by speaking.
“She corrected it,” I say.
“That’s not the point,” Avery fires back. “The point is she broke your rule.”
I sit. Slowly. Deliberately.
Avery paces once, heels sharp against the floor. “You always fire people for less than that. Remember last year? The guy in finance? You didn’t even let him explain.”
“He cost me money,” I say.
“She cost you authority,” Avery argues. “That’s worse.”
I lift my eyes then.
Just once.
Avery freezes mid-step.
Authority isn’t threatened by one misrouted call. Authority is threatened by chaos, by weakness, by people who don’t know their place. Violet Pierce knows exactly where hers is. That’s why she didn’t beg.
That’s why she’s still here.
Avery crosses her arms, lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re favoring her.”
“No,” I say calmly. “I’m tolerating competence.”
She scoffs. “She thinks she’s better than me.”
“She is,” I reply without hesitation.
The silence that follows is thick and dangerous.
Avery’s eyes widen. Hurt flashes across her face before anger takes its place. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”
I lean back in my chair. “You didn’t have to ask.””
Her jaw trembles. “I don’t understand why you keep her around. She’s not even-” She gestures vaguely) “She doesn’t try. She wears the same boring clothes every day. She never smiles. She acts like she’s above all of this.”
“She acts like she’s here to work,” I say.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is here.”
Avery whirls back around. “You promised me lunch today.”
I pause.
She’s right. I did.
“Yes,” I say. “I did.”
Her posture straightens instantly. “And the purse?”
I stand again, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair. “Send me the link.”
Her mood shifts like a switch flipped. The anger evaporates, replaced by excitement sharp enough to be jarring. “Really?”
“Yes.”
She smiles, wide and relieved, already pulling out her phone. “Oh my god, Rowan, thank you. I knew you’d understand.”
I don’t correct her.
I don’t understand.
I manage.
“Lunch at twelve-thirty,” I add. “Be ready.”
She nods enthusiastically. “I will. I’ll go freshen up.”
She disappears into the bathroom attached to my office, already humming.
The door shuts.
The office settles.
I sit back down, fingers steepled in front of me, eyes drifting to the glass wall overlooking the lobby.
Violet is back at her desk.
Head down. Hands moving. Rhythm restored.
No visible cracks.
External matter.
The phrase circles back uninvited.
Violet doesn’t volunteer information. She doesn’t overshare. She doesn’t bring her personal life into this building. That’s part of why she’s lasted as long as she has.
So whatever distracted her enough to make a mistake wasn’t small.
I run through possibilities clinically.
An ex. A husband. Family drama. Financial trouble. None of it is my concern-until it disrupts operations. Until it bleeds into my space.
I don’t pry into my employees’ lives.
But I also don’t ignore risk.
Violet Pierce is one of my most reliable assets.
Assets don’t fracture without reason.
I watch as she fields another call, voice steady, expression unreadable. If she’s unraveling, she’s doing it privately.
Good.
I make a mental note.
O 5
Violet
I don’t let myself breathe until the elevator doors close behind me.
Even then, I keep my face neutral. My shoulders squared. My steps measured as I walk back toward the front desk like nothing just happened-like I wasn’t standing in Rowan Ashcroft’s office thirty seconds ago with my job balanced on the edge of his patience.
The lobby hums the way it always does. Phones ringing. Footsteps echoing. Voices low and important.
Normal.
That’s the rule here. Whatever happens behind closed doors stays there. You don’t bring it back out with you. You don’t let it show.
I sit down and slide my headset back on.
“Ashcroft Industries,” I say smoothly, already rerouting a call, already pulling up the calendar Rowan told me to double-check. My fingers don’t shake. My voice doesn’t waver.
If anyone’s watching, they won’t see a thing.
Inside, though, my pulse is still too fast. My chest tight in that uncomfortable way that comes from holding everything in and refusing to let it spill.
I replay the meeting once. Just once. Any more than that would be indulgent.
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t threaten me. He didn’t fire me.
He noticed.
That’s worse.
I adjust routing settings meticulously, line by line, confirming what I already know is correct. It’s busywork, but it gives my hands something to do while my mind tries to settle.
External matter.
The words echo uncomfortably.
I don’t like that I said them. I don’t like that he noticed the hesitation before them. I especially don’t like that he didn’t ask questions.
Rowan Ashcroft doesn’t ask questions unless he’s already decided the answer matters,
By noon, I’ve checked everything twice. I’ve taken three messages for Theo, blocked a city official, and rerouted a journalist who tried to sound charming enough to get past me.
It works. It always does.
Camille appears at my desk right on schedule, tablet tucked under her arm, eyebrows lifting the moment she takes me in.
“You alive?” she murmurs,
“Barely,” I say.
She smiles faintly. “Lunch?”
I nod, already standing. “Please.”
We leave together, stepping out of the building and into the muted chaos of the street. The air outside feels different-less controlled, less heavy. I didn’t realize how tense I was until my shoulders drop a fraction.
Camille doesn’t speak until we’re seated in a quiet caf? two blocks away, menus untouched.
“So,” she says carefully, “you want to tell me why Rowan Ashcroft summoned you like a disappointed god?”
I snort despite myself. “That obvious?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.