Camilla knew walking into the office on Monday would be an entirely different experience than any day before.
And she was right.
As she stepped off the elevator, every head in the vicinity turned. Some with curiosity, others with veiled judgment, a few with smug, speculative grins. The hallway chatter ceased, as if her heels clicking on the marble floor commanded silence.
It wasn't paranoia—it was power. The kind that came with proximity to someone like Dominic Blake.The kind that could build a throne or trigger a scandal.
She adjusted her blazer, nodded once at the receptionist, and made her way to her desk. Calm. Collected. She would not let whispers define her.
As she sat, she noticed a small white envelope on her keyboard—no name, no print, just elegant paper.
Inside was a card. In Dominic's handwriting:
"Lunch. My office. Don't argue."
She smirked.
The man really didn't know how to take no for an answer.
Before she could even tuck the note away, her phone rang. It was HR.
"Ms. Vitale, could you come up to the eleventh floor for a moment?"
Of course.
The head of HR, Marlene Ortiz, was waiting in her glass-walled office. Neat, concise, and always dangerously polite, Marlene gestured for Camilla to sit.
"This won't take long," she said, folding her hands. "There have been… discussions."
Camilla tilted her head. "Discussions?"
"About potential fraternization. Professional boundaries. The importance of workplace ethics." Her voice was honeyed, but her eyes were steel. "Normally, we wouldn't interfere. But with the CEO involved, the board wants documentation. Clarification."
Camilla's fingers tightened slightly around the armrest.
"You're saying the board is concerned because of rumors."
"I'm saying the board wants to avoid lawsuits," Marlene said smoothly. "You're both consenting adults. But power dynamics must be acknowledged. It's protocol."
Camilla exhaled. "So, what do you need from me?"
"A signed acknowledgment. That you understand your rights. That you're not being coerced. That your position is not contingent on your… relationship."
It was humiliating.
Necessary, maybe. But still humiliating.
Camilla signed the form without a word.
Back at her desk, she barely had time to breathe before a message pinged on her screen.
Dominic:Come in. Now.
She rolled her eyes but went.
Inside his office, he looked like a storm cloud in a tailored suit.
"I heard," he said before she even closed the door.
"HR works fast," she replied dryly.
"I didn't mean for you to deal with this alone."
"I know," she said, perching on the edge of the chair. "But I'm not made of glass, Dominic."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I don't like people treating you like you've done something wrong."
"Well, get used to it," she said, half-smiling. "That's the cost of power and sex. And we've got both."
That made him laugh. A quiet, tired laugh, but a real one.
"Come here," he said, holding out a hand.
She walked around the desk, placing her fingers in his. He pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers.
"I meant what I said. I won't hide you."
"I know," she whispered. "But sometimes… I wish we could go back to before things got complicated."
"Do you regret it?" he asked softly.
"No. But I miss the quiet."
He kissed her forehead. "We'll find quiet again. I promise."
By mid-afternoon, the internet had done what it did best—run wild.
A new article had surfaced.
This time with names. Photos. A speculative breakdown of the timeline between Camilla's hiring and their rumored relationship.
The comments were vicious.
"Another secretary sleeping her way up?"
"Classic. Bet she's getting a promotion soon."
"Didn't she just get a company car? Hmm…"
Camilla sat in the restroom stall, reading the thread.
It wasn't just gossip—it was bile.
Her hands trembled slightly as she tucked her phone away.
She wasn't ashamed of loving Dominic. She wasn't ashamed of last weekend.
But the world? The world made it so easy to feel dirty.
When she returned to her desk, there was a note waiting.
Meeting in 20 mins. Bring your courage. – D
What now?
The conference room was full when she walked in. Department heads. Board members. Lucia. Even the CFO.
Dominic stood at the head of the table, every inch the commanding CEO.
"I called this meeting to clarify some internal affairs," he said. "Some of you have questions. Let's get them out now."
Silence.
Camilla sat beside him, her spine straight.
Finally, someone coughed. "Is it true, Dominic? Are you involved with your assistant?"
Camilla's heart raced.
Dominic looked at her, then back at the room.
"Yes," he said. "I am. And she's more than just my assistant."
Another voice chimed in. "It's not against policy, but… the optics…"
"Are manageable," Lucia interrupted smoothly. "We've crafted a position that respects both parties' privacy while keeping the company's image clean."
The CFO leaned forward. "And what happens if this goes south?"
Dominic smiled coldly. "Then I'll deal with it. But I won't be bullied out of being human."
Camilla felt a flush of pride.
This man—this impossible, infuriating, bold man—was choosing her. In front of everyone.
Lucia wrapped things up, smoothing feathers, and the meeting adjourned.
As they left the room, Dominic leaned down.
"You okay?"
She nodded. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did."
They stood in the hall a moment longer, hands brushing, eyes locked.
She finally smiled.
"Thank you, Dominic."
Later that night, she returned to her apartment alone. She needed time. Quiet.
She kicked off her heels, peeled off her blazer, and collapsed on the couch. The weight of the day clung to her shoulders.
But her phone buzzed.
A text.
Dominic:I know you need space tonight. But I meant what I said, Camilla. Every word. I'll wait.
She smiled through the exhaustion.
Then typed back.
Camilla:Don't wait too long. I tend to change my mind when I'm hungry.
That night, she slept deeply. Dreamlessly.
Because for the first time in a long time, despite the chaos, she knew where she stood.
And who was standing beside her.