Shan stepped into my office and quietly shut the door behind him.
Something about the room felt different today. Not visibly, but… atmospherically. He paused just a second longer than usual before walking in. The room felt colder. Not the kind of cold that comes from the AC blowing too strong, but the kind that seeps into your chest.
Like walking into a place you used to know, Though now it feels a lot warmer than before.
How come that feeling came back again! Shan murmured. He glanced at me. I was leaned back in my chair, feet half-propped on the desk, fingers lazily spinning the office pen in circles. My gaze was fixed somewhere past the ceiling, roof, maybe even past this whole damn city.
I didn't say anything. Didn't even ask about Arno.
Which Shan noticed. Of course as my personal assistant and as the right hand man he did.
He moved around the room quietly. He didn't want to disturb something. Or maybe like he didn't want to trigger a ghost.
He set a folder down on the desk. "The board meeting outcomes from this morning," he said, voice low but even.
I nodded.
Shan didn't leave. He just stood there, hands clasped behind his back, stealing glances at me like he was trying to read a weather report without any clouds to go off.
"Strange," he thought. "Every time I walk into this office lately... it feels like how it used to be, before the accident."
Back then, the tension was always high. Lucien Malric Moreaux was a man who didn't speak unless it had weight. You could cut through the air with a knife. Everything was sharp including his mind, his orders and even his silence.
But after the coma, things had changed. Softer edges. A kind of confusion beneath the charm.
Until recently.
Now the chill was creeping back in again.
Shan shifted slightly. Something wasn't right. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.
Was it because of the rejection? Is that what stirred the old Lucien awake?
Even the board meeting today had felt off. People were tense, like the temperature had dropped ten degrees. The air was heavy. Eyes darted. Even the egoistic people were holding their coffee cups tighter, as if they were bracing for something.
Meanwhile, I was still swinging my chair, back and forth, back and forth. Pen in hand. Not really doing anything with it.
And finally, I said,, "half to myself, half to the ceiling."
Huh... I guess I'm doomed in love."
My voice was quiet, almost sarcastic.
"I got cheated on in my old world... Then I get tossed into a multiverse, a second chance, new body, a new life. Billionaire CEO. And what happens?"
I gave a soft, dry laugh. "Didn't even stand a chance. I got rejected. I closed my eyes for a second.
Then whispered like it was a bad punchline—
"Rejected by my crush." There was no drama in it. Just a quiet acceptance. A little self-mockery. A little heartbreak soaked into the cracks of my voice.
Shan said nothing. He didn't know why his president mumbling to himself! He just stood there, watching the man who had once been a legend... now reduced to someone spinning slowly in a leather chair, nursing the sting of rejection like it was a wound no one could see.
And in that silence, I thought:
Love doesn't follow you across worlds. Even in a new life, the universe still find new ways to remind you you're alone.
---
Arvid Ruxin glanced up from his newspaper. "How was your day at the hospital sweetheart?"
Cordelia sank into the leather sofa, casually kicking off her heels. "Delightful," she said, amused. "I got to watch Arno Theryn Solace try to keep her composure in front of a room full of doctors. And of course she failed. I loved seeing her humiliated face...she chuckled.
Arvid just turned a page. But, inside he was amused and proud of his daughter. He wants to see Lucien Malric face when his little lover will roll on the ground... How will he react.
Just then, Angika walked in, pausing at the door. "When did sister get back from abroad?"
Cordelia glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. "I don't remember having a sister."
Angika's jaw tightened.
"Oh right," Cordelia added, feigning surprise. "You're the leftover from your Mom's first marriage. Carrying our last name doesn't make you one of us. Don't mistake politeness for belonging."
Arvid lowered his paper. "Angika. Starting next week, Cordelia will take over as Director. You'll step down and assist her."
Angika stood frozen, her fingers tightening against her dress. "…I've worked for this. For years. I earned my place."
Arvid Ruxin's cold gaze landed on Angika with the weight of authority that didn't allow argument. I didn't ask for your opinion. "You should feel grateful you're even in this house, Angika."
Cordelia leaned back in her chair, legs elegantly crossed, a satisfied gleam dancing in her eyes. "It's alright, Daddy," she said sweetly. "She's just overwhelmed. After all, it is hard letting go of something you were never meant to keep."
Angika's heart sank like a stone.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but the weight of years sat on her tongue. Years of being second-best, of walking the tightrope between daughter and outsider, of smiling through birthdays where her name was barely mentioned.
"I'm not trying to hold onto power," she said quietly. "I just… I worked hard for this company.
Cordelia arched a brow, tilting her head in faux sympathy. "Yes, and you'll be a wonderful assistant. Won't she, Father?"
Arvid nodded without looking at Angika. "It's decided. Besides, she's the real heiress of the Ruxin family, Arvid said simply."
Angika swallowed hard. "Yes, Dad. Angika's fingers trembled slightly, but she forced them into stillness against her lap."
Cordelia turned to her with a mocking smile. "Don't look so tense. Assistant suits you. That's where you fit."
"If that's all," she said through clenched teeth, "may I be excused?"
Arvid waved a hand dismissively. "Go. And be ready to brief Cordelia tomorrow morning."
Cordelia gave her a little finger wave. "Sleep well, sis."
Angika turned sharply. "Don't call me that."
Cordelia's smirk turned cruel. "Why not? Isn't that what you've always wanted? To belong?"
Angika stormed off from there as fast as she can, barely trying to hold her tears.
---