Silence settled once again, but it felt different now—heavier, more focused, as if everything around them had narrowed down to just two people standing in that corridor.
Zein pushed herself up slowly, ignoring the pain, ignoring the weakness in her limbs, because showing vulnerability here meant inviting danger—and she had no intention of doing that.
"You didn't scream," Ace said, his voice calm but observant.
Zein wiped the blood from her lip before answering, "It wouldn't have helped."
A pause followed—not empty, but filled with something unspoken, something forming.
He stepped closer.
Zein didn't move.
Didn't step back.
Didn't look away.
"You're different," he said.
"And you're obvious," she replied.
A faint smirk appeared on his face—small, but real.
"From today," he continued, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more final, more commanding,"you'll work for me."
Zein's eyes narrowed.
"I don't take orders."
"You do now."
"No."
The tension between them sharpened instantly, turning the air colder, heavier, almost suffocating, but neither of them backed down, neither of them broke eye contact, because this wasn't just a conversation anymore—it was a clash of will.
Ace stepped closer.
Closer than before.
"This isn't optional," he said quietly.
Zein's voice dropped just as low.
"Then you chose the wrong person."
For a moment—
Nothing moved.
Nothing changed.
And then—
His voice softened.
Just slightly.
"You survived tonight," he said,
"because I stepped in."
Zein held his gaze.
"I would have survived anyway."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Deeper.
And then—
He spoke the words that would change everything.
"Be my secretary."