Chapter 1: Work!

 Monday 16th June 2020

 Starting of the rainy day with a slight headache, Roxanna dismissed her alarm clock. The thunder strike wasn't smiling that morning, as the rain poured down heavily. Roxanna stood up slowly from her bed, pressing her forehead with the back of the palm. Her migraines had started again but she had no time to worry about it. She picked her phone up and it was already 6:00AM. She had just an hour to prepare for the day ahead.

She stepped into the bathroom; the cold marble floors cool beneath her bare feet. The spacious room was bathed in soft morning light streaming through the frosted glass windows, illuminating the gold accents on the faucets and mirrors. She grabbed her toothbrush from its sleek holder and stared at her reflection in the polished mirror. Her tired eyes studied her face as the bristles moved rhythmically across her teeth, the sharp, minty flavor cutting through the remnants of sleep. But no amount of toothpaste could chase away the lingering reluctance she felt. She wasn't ready to tackle the day just yet—not in this moment.

Padding downstairs, her steps echoed softly in the vast expanse of the house. The grand staircase curved elegantly, the highly decorated banisters gleaming under the soft glow of the crystal chandelier hanging high above the marble foyer. As she reached the bottom, the house greeted her in its stillness, its air infused with the faint scent of lavender from hidden diffusers placed around the rooms.

She made her way toward the kitchen, a masterpiece of modern design with glossy black countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a view of the sprawling garden just beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Pouring herself a glass of sparkling coffee from the fridge's built-in coffee percolator, she leaned against the counter, letting the hot coffee refresh her. The silence was punctuated by the distant hum of the automated vacuum that had started its morning routine.

She wandered toward the living room; the plush rug soft beneath her feet. The curtains were drawn, but with the touch of a button, they slid open, revealing the morning sun in all its brilliance. The infinity pool sparkled like liquid glass, and beyond it, the city skyline rose in the distance, a reminder of the fast-paced world she'd soon have to rejoin.

For now, though, she wasn't ready to let the day catch her. She sank into the oversized sectional sofa, its soft cushions enveloping her as she exhaled deeply. Her phone buzzed on the side table, and she grabbed it without hesitation. Scrolling through her messages and notifications, she let the world of glowing screens and endless updates pull her in, a momentary escape before reality demanded her full attention.

And so, with the quiet hum of her home around her and the sunlight warming her through the glass, she stayed there, nestled in the comfort of her sofa, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as the day inched forward.

As she aimlessly scrolled through the endless stream of reels on her Instagram feed, a sharp buzz shattered her trance. Her eyes darted to the glowing notification dot on her phone. With a fleeting frown, she tapped it open. Morales. Of course. Her friend, her co-worker at the ever-demanding ALO Company, and, at times like this, her relentless reminder of responsibilities she'd rather forget. 

She read the message slowly, the words sinking in like weights. 

"Good morning, Ms. Davis. Just a quick reminder that your department hasn't submitted the just-concluded project report. Please ensure that it is submitted and forwarded to my office for checking and approval. Thanks." 

Her shoulders sagged as she let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Urghhh," she groaned, shaking her head at her own negligence. She had completely forgotten to review the project report her team had sent in days ago.

The realization jolted her from her comfortable slump. Tossing her phone onto the couch with a soft thud, she dragged herself toward the bathroom. Her footsteps were slow at first, but the urgency began to build. She turned the shower knob, letting the steaming water cascade down, as she mentally berated herself for being so forgetful. 

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of floral-scented steam trailing behind her. She wrapped herself in a soft towel and strode to her walk-in closet. Her eyes darted across the rows of neatly hung blazers, designer dresses, and tailored trousers. After a moment's deliberation, she settled on a striking ensemble: a navy blue designer pencil skirt paired with a crisp white singlet that tucked neatly into the waistband. Over it, she draped a perfectly tailored navy blazer that hugged her shoulders just right. The outfit exuded authority and elegance in equal measure.

After slipping into a pair of black heels that clicked decisively against the floor. 

Once dressed, she stood before her vanity, brushing her damp hair into submission and tying it into a low bun. A quick dab of lipstick, a touch of blush, and a confident spritz of her signature Chanel No. 5 perfume—she was ready. 

She grabbed her laptop bag and strode back to the living room, her eyes scanning the surfaces for her car keys. They gleamed from the corner of the coffee table. She snatched them up, her fingers brushing against the cool, polished metal.

Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she headed for the door, her thoughts already racing ahead to the tasks of the day. The echo of her heels followed her down the staircase until she reached the parking lot. 

She moved over to her brand new Porsche Panamera. The LED headlights flashed to life as she unlocked it with a press of the key fob. Sliding into the warm leather seat, she took a moment to grip the steering wheel, her reflection in the rearview mirror catching her determined gaze. 

Ms. Davis," she muttered to herself with mock authority, mimicking Morales's tone. "Submit the report. Right. On it."

With one final shake of her head and a steely resolve to tackle the day, she ignited he engine to life, and with a confident smirk, she maneuvered out of the parking lot, ready to take on the chaos that awaited her at the company. 

At the Office…

I arrived earlier than usual, the office still quiet, save for the distant hum of the air conditioning. A rare moment of peace. I sank into my chair, stretching as I exhaled, ready to tackle the endless files waiting for me. My fingers trailed over the polished desk, but as I reached for the first folder, my stomach let out a low, treacherous growl.

Great. No breakfast. Again.

I sighed, shaking my head. Lunch felt like a lifetime away. Just as I began scanning the shelves, a sharp, deliberate knock echoed through the office.

Before I could answer, the door swung open.

"Hey, you."

I looked up to see Terra standing in the doorway, her usual smirk in place. In her hands, two steaming cups of coffee. The rich aroma filled the room instantly, making my stomach churn with longing.

"I saw you dragging yourself in this morning," she said, walking towards me. "And I just knew you hadn't eaten."

"Oh, dear Terra, what would I ever do without you?" I sighed dramatically, reaching for the cup.

"You'd probably starve, collapse on these files, and Mr. Morales would step over your unconscious body without noticing," she teased, handing me the coffee.

I chuckled, taking a grateful sip. The warmth spread through me, soothing my caffeine-deprived soul.

"You know me too well," I admitted.

"Of course, I do," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she perched on the edge of my desk. "So, tell me, how bad is today looking? Is Morales in one of his moods?"

"Always," I groaned. "I have to get these reports in before he starts breathing down my neck."

As if summoned by our conversation, a rapid series of knocks interrupted us again. This time, the door didn't wait for an invitation—it swung open abruptly.

A frazzled-looking employee, barely balancing a thick stack of files, stepped in. "Ms. Davis, these just came in from Finance. They said Mr. Morales wants them reviewed immediately."

I barely suppressed a groan as the weighty pile was deposited onto my already cluttered desk. Terra let out a low whistle.

"Wow. immediately huh? They really have it out for you."

"Story of my life," I muttered, flipping open the top file.

The worker hesitated for a second, as if debating whether to say more, then turned and practically fled the room.

Terra took a long sip of her coffee, eyeing the ever-growing mountain of paperwork. "You know, we could just set all of this on fire and walk away. No one would blame us."

I snorted. "Tempting. But I think Morales would hunt me down."

"Well," she shrugged, "if you ever need an alibi, you know where to find me."

I laughed, shaking my head. At least with Terra around, even the most grueling days had their moments of reprieve.

"Alright amigo, … I have to return to my office. I'm sure they've dropped a file for me too." She said and turned to leave.

"Ok love, don't forget to call me out when it's lunch time ok?"

"Ok…"

The moment Terra left; silence filled the room. Her absence always felt heavier than it should. With a sigh, I set my coffee down and ran my fingers over the smooth surface of my desk before resting them on the tall stack of files left behind by the nervous-looking employee.

I pulled the top file toward me and flipped it open. The bold heading read in all caps—ENVIRONMENTAL PROJECT FUNDING REQUEST: CONSTRUCTION SITE CLEAN-UP. I winced. Urgent requests like this rarely meant good news.

I scanned the pages, my eyes moving quickly over details of a funding request made a month ago for a clean-up project at one of our construction sites. According to the file, the project was supposed to be completed by now. Instead, there was no sign of any work having been done. Even more troubling was a note at the bottom: despite the lack of progress, a new request for additional funds had been submitted.

I picked up a pen and began marking the parts that didn't add up. If the project had not been finished a month later and now more funds were being requested without any progress, it could mean serious mismanagement—or worse, a deliberate misuse of funds meant to protect our environment. My stomach tightened with worry.

A sharp knock on my door made me jump.

"Come in," I called, steadying my voice.

The door creaked open, and Finn, a junior analyst from the Sustainability Division, stepped inside. Usually, he carried himself with confidence, but today his hands fidgeted and his face was pale.

"Ms. Davis," he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder as if checking that no one had followed. "Can we talk?"

I motioned for him to sit. "Go ahead."

He hesitated before lowering himself into the chair. "Did you look at the file yet?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Just started. And I already see something strange. What's going on?"

Finn exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Look… I don't have much time. I shouldn't even be here, but you need to know—something isn't right with this funding request. The clean-up project was meant to be finished a month ago, yet there's no sign of any progress. And now, they're asking for more money as if nothing's wrong. I have a feeling that someone in our Sustainability team is behind this. They've been pushing for these funds relentlessly, even though the project has clearly stalled."

My heartbeat quickened. "So, you think someone is responsible for covering up the delay?"

He hesitated. "I'm not entirely sure, but all signs point in that direction. If we approve this new request without looking into the failed project, we risk wasting money meant for our environmental commitments."

A chill ran through me. He was right. If I signed off on another funding request without demanding answers, I'd be complicit in undermining our department's purpose.

Before I could say more, the intercom on my desk buzzed to life, making us both jump.

"Ms. Davis," came the clipped voice of Mr. Morales' assistant, Cora. "The CEO wants to see you. Now."

My stomach clenched. Morales. The last person I needed to confront right now—even though I knew he wasn't behind this mess. Still, his office represented the company's final decision on matters like these.

I took a slow breath. "Tell him I'll be right there."

The line went dead. I glanced at Finn. "If I need more details, can I count on you?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Be careful, Ms. Davis."

I grabbed the file, tucked it under my arm, and walked out of my office. The hallways felt narrower, the air heavier. I passed by employees at their desks, heads down, oblivious to the storm brewing within the company.

When I reached the grand double doors of Morales' office, I paused for a moment to steady myself before knocking twice and stepping in.

Morales sat behind his enormous wooden desk; his fingers pressed together as he watched me enter. His dark eyes held a sharp glint—firm and businesslike rather than accusatory. He gestured toward the chair across from him.

"Sit down, Ms. Davis."

I sat, keeping my back straight and the file resting in my lap.

"I see you have the funding request file," he began. "Tell me, what do you make of it?"

I took a breath before replying, "The project was supposed to be completed a month ago, yet there's no record of any progress. Now, an additional funding request is being pushed forward. I suspect someone in our Sustainability Department is behind this, pushing for more money despite the project's failure."

He paused; his expression thoughtful rather than angry. "That is concerning," he said slowly. "I trust your judgment, Ms. Davis. We need to ensure that every dollar is accounted for and that our environmental commitments are truly met. However, we must also move quickly. Please make sure that your investigation does not delay our progress and decision-making."

I nodded, choosing my words carefully. "I understand, sir. I believe it's important we address this now. Wasting funds on a project that isn't being executed not only harms our credibility but could have serious environmental consequences."

Morales leaned back, considering my words. "I want your report on my desk by the deadline. I trust you to follow the facts closely."

I stood, and he added with a nod, "Keep me updated on your findings, Ms. Davis. I need to know that we're on the right track."

Forcing a polite smile, I replied, "Of course, sir."

As I stepped out of his office, my pulse still raced. It was clear that someone from the sustainability team was the culprit, the responsibility to expose what was happening now fell squarely on my shoulders.

I walked briskly back to my office, determination burning inside me. If someone in our own Sustainability team thought they could mishandle an environmental project and push through extra funding without accountability, they were in for a reckoning.

Terra was right—I needed breakfast. But what I needed even more was the truth.

"Oh lord, how do I work this out." I thought to myself as I walked through the hallway. "I haven't even looked through the other file that Mr. Morales called me for this morning and I have another. Come to think of it, how come a project was started and I wasn't informed about it. That's unusual. My team always informs me when a new project is started".

"Yes father I'm already here,"

"Oh God… this is so annoying" I said not noticing the tall male figure that passed me.