Mia stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the collar of her blouse. The name tag pinned to her chest felt heavier than it should have—not because of its weight, but because of the name printed on it.
Emily Hayes.
Not Mia.
Mia had disappeared seven years ago, along with the shattered pieces of her heart.
She had built a new life in Everdale, one where the past didn't follow her. Here, she wasn't the woman who had been betrayed by her boyfriend and best friend. She wasn't the woman who had spent one reckless, passionate night with a stranger—only to realize, months later, that the night had changed her life forever.
She was Emily now.
Quiet. Composed. Cautious.
And most importantly, invisible.
Mia adjusted her blouse one last time, squared her shoulders, and picked up her bag. Today was the start of something new. A fresh beginning.
But as she made her way to Sinclair Enterprises' Everdale branch, a bitter irony settled in her chest.
She'd applied for the assistant position weeks ago, never expecting the name Sinclair to be tied to the company. And by the time she realized, it had been too late to back out.
Not without raising suspicion.
But it didn't matter.
Adrian Sinclair wasn't here.
Just his grandmother.
The formidable Eleanor Sinclair—a woman known for running both her company and her family with an iron fist.
Mia had read about her in business magazines, had heard whispers of her ruthless reputation. She'd always thought of Eleanor Sinclair as a distant figure, untouchable, a woman she would never cross paths with.
And now, she was about to work for her.
It was just a job. Just a way to keep her life stable.
Still, unease coiled in Mia's stomach as she stepped into the sleek, modern building, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
She kept her head down as she approached the reception desk, barely paying attention to the hum of activity around her.
"Emily Hayes?" A sharp voice cut through the quiet.
Mia's heart stuttered for a moment, but she forced a polite smile. Emily. Not Mia.
"Yes."
A tall, stern-looking woman stood before her, eyes assessing, calculating.
"You'll be assisting Mrs. Sinclair directly," the woman said, handing Mia a neatly printed schedule. "She's… particular."
Understatement of the year.
Mia nodded, keeping her expression neutral.
As she was led deeper into the building, each step felt heavier than the last.
She had spent years making sure she was untraceable, ensuring that no part of her past could catch up to her.
She had erased herself.
And yet, here she was—working for the very family she had been running from for seven years.
But it didn't matter.
As long as Adrian never found out, she was safe.
Eleanor Sinclair's Office
When Mia stepped inside, she felt the weight of the older woman's presence instantly.
Eleanor Sinclair sat behind a grand, dark-wood desk, exuding power with every inch of her being.
She didn't speak right away.
Just watched.
And for a fleeting second, panic bubbled inside Mia.
Did Eleanor know?
Had Adrian found her?
She kept her posture steady, her expression neutral.
Then Eleanor finally spoke.
"You're young," she said flatly. "Inexperienced, I assume?"
Mia swallowed, keeping her voice steady. "I'm a fast learner."
Something in Eleanor's gaze flickered—a strange, calculating gleam Mia couldn't decipher.
"Good," Eleanor finally said. "Because I don't tolerate mistakes."
Mia nodded, her heart thudding against her ribs.
She was safe.
For now.
But as Eleanor's icy gaze lingered on her, studying her a little too closely—like she was searching for something just out of reach—Mia couldn't shake the feeling that she had just stepped into the lion's den.
And that terrified her.