Chapter 5

Elena’s POV I moved in with May as soon as I was discharged. Her apartment was small and nothing like the spacious apartment Mark once provided for me but it was enough for now. “Elena, I’m telling you,” May said for what felt like the hundredth time, leaning against the doorframe as I unpacked my clothes from my battered box. “Alpha Eric Thompson definitely fancies you. I can smell these things from miles away.” “I doubt it, May,” I said, folding a dress, though my heart traitorously wished she was right. “Everything he did was out of guilt. His sister snatched my man, remember? Maybe he just wanted to make up for that.” “Really?” May laughed softly. “People like Eric Thompson don’t run on guilt. They don’t do favors for fun either. They either want something or they don’t bother at all.” I went quiet. Flashes of him filled my mind; his darkened gaze in the elevator, the way his eyes stripped me bare without a single touch. It felt like desire or interest. But I refused to cling to that thought. I wasn’t going to fool myself again. “Look,” May continued, her lips curling into a mischievous smile, “even if it’s guilt, use it. Go thank him. Seduce him if you have to. Let Mark choke on regret.” I turned to her sharply. “No. I won’t do that.” She blinked. “Why not?” “Because I’m done,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested in playing any revenge game. I just want my life back; a new job and stability. I don’t need Eric’s favors. I’ll pay him back…every cent…once I start earning again.” May scoffed. “You’re either too naïve or too good for your own good. Do you even know how long it would take to repay a man like Eric Thompson?” “I know.” I snapped, then softened. “But however long it takes.” I met her eyes. “I’m done entertaining rich and powerful men. I’m tired of being someone they pick up and throw away. I want a real life this time and real people.” May sighed, finally backing down. “You’re impossible.” She said nothing more, but I saw it in her eyes, she thought I was walking away from a golden chance. I turned back to my box, my hands steady but my heart less so. Because no matter what I told May…Eric’s scent, his warmth and his touches still lingered in my thoughts and I hated how hard it was to let go. Two days later, I walked into Thompson Enterprises with my head held high. Four years. That was how long I had given this place; late nights, missed holidays and endless pressure. I wasn’t here to beg. I was here for what I was owed. At the HR desk, I stated my name calmly. “I’m here to process my severance.” The HR manager barely looked up at first. She typed, clicked, frowned, then typed again. Minutes passed before she finally lifted her eyes. “Elena… you said?” “Yes,” I replied. “Elena Grey. I worked under Mark…” She raised a hand, cutting me off. “There’s no need to explain. I’m just trying to find your records.” Something in her tone made my chest tighten. Then she turned the screen slightly toward me, brows knitting. “This is strange.” “What is?” I asked as I glanced at the screen, not registering anything. She leaned back in her chair. “Your name doesn’t appear in our employee system. At all.” I laughed softly, thinking she was joking. “That’s impossible. I worked here for four years.” She tapped the keyboard again, slower this time. “There are no contracts. No payroll records. No benefits registered with your name under Thompson Enterprises.” My smile faded. “Then how was I paid?” She glanced at the screen, then at me. “All expenses tied to you went through Mark’s personal accounts.” The words hit harder than a slap. “I don’t understand,” I said slowly. “I worked on company projects. I sat in meetings. I had an office.” She folded her arms. “From our records, you were never officially hired. Which means, legally speaking, you were not an employee of this company.” My throat went dry. “So you’re saying… I don’t exist here?” She shrugged. “From a corporate standpoint? No.” Heat rushed up my neck. “Mark was my boss,” I said tightly. Her lips curved into a cold, cruel smile. “Let’s call it what it really was,” she said. “Your pimp.” Enraged, I stepped closer to the desk. “I’m not asking for favors. I’m asking for my severance. I earned it.” She looked me up and down, slow and assessing. “Miss Grey, from where we stand, you were not dismissed. You were simply… removed from a private arrangement.” “A private arrangement?” I echoed. She nodded. “And now you’re demanding company compensation you were never entitled to.” The meaning sank in, ugly and humiliating, My hands curled into fists. “So you think I just… stayed here for four years for nothing?” I asked. Her gaze turned cold. “I think you’re being very bold, coming here like this.” The room felt smaller and the air heavier. I realized then this wasn’t confusion but deliberate act of humiliation. She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. “Every proposal you worked on had Mark’s name listed as lead,” she said. “Profits, credits and approvals…all were under him.” “That doesn’t erase my work,” I shot back. “I drafted those proposals. I ran those projects. Ask anyone on the floor.” She gave a short laugh. “And how exactly do we verify that?” “Check the records,” I said. “Emails. Meeting logs. Performance reports.” She shook her head. “All internal access is restricted. You’re no longer authorized.” My pulse pounded. “Then pull the surveillance footage,” I said firmly. “You’ll see me here every day. Early mornings. Late nights. I didn’t imagine four years of my life.” Her eyes hardened. “CCTV footage is confidential.” “So is stealing someone’s labor,” I snapped. Her mouth thinned. “Careful, Miss Grey.” “Careful?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You’re telling me I worked here for four years and I was nothing more than…what? Mark’s shadow?” She didn’t answer right away. Then she said, cool and sharp, “Perhaps your contribution wasn’t professional.” The room went silent as I stared at her. “What does that mean?” She tilted her head. “Mark was listed as the primary lead on every project. Who’s to say what your real value was to him?” My hands trembled. “Say it clearly,” I demanded. She met my eyes without flinching. “People might assume your influence came from… elsewhere.” The insult landed hard. “You’re accusing me of sleeping my way through four years of work?” I whispered. “I’m saying,” she replied calmly, “that from the company’s perspective, Mark Thompson was the asset. You were not.” Something inside me snapped. “I want this to escalate,” I said. “Right now.” She pressed a button on her desk instead. “Security,” she said into the intercom. “Please come to HR.” Two guards appeared moments later. “This woman is no longer affiliated with the company,” she said, standing. “Please escort her out.” I took a step back. “You can’t do this.” She met my gaze, cold and final. “We already have.” The guards moved closer. I didn’t fight. I couldn’t. As they led me away, heads turned and whispers followed. Four years of work erased. And I was dragged out like I’d never belonged there at all. The moment I was shoved out of the office, I stumbled straight into a solid chest. Strong, warm and familiar. I froze. I didn’t need to look up. That scent; deep, earthy, and dangerous, wrapped around me like a trap. My breath caught before I could stop it. Then his voice rumbled close to my ear, low and unmistakable. “Why is it that every time I run into you… you look like the world has just tried to break you?” Eric Thompson. My heart slammed hard against my ribs as his presence closed in, and I realized with a sick twist that this time, he had seen my worst.