The Test

ELENA’S POV

I stepped out of the car and adjusted my bag on my shoulder, my eyes sweeping over the towering structure in front of me. The building was massive, a testament to power and ambition, its glass facade reflecting the morning sun. Justin’s secretary had sent me a message earlier: “Report to Mr Justin’s office immediately.”

What could possibly be wrong?

Josh, Noah’s driver, gave me a curt nod before pulling away, leaving me standing there with my thoughts swirling like a storm. I entered the building. Inside, it was a symphony of movement—workers rushing past, their faces a blur of purpose, phones ringing in a constant rhythm, and the faint hum of machinery in the background. The air smelled of coffee and polished wood, mingled with the faint tang of disinfectant.

Pulling out my phone, I double-checked the message before heading to the elevator. My reflection in the polished doors caught my eye—poised and ready.

The ride was agonizingly slow, each floor bringing a fresh wave of anxiety. When the doors finally slid open, I was greeted by a stark contrast to the bustling lobby. This floor exuded order and professionalism, the kind of place where everything had its purpose. I still had the question in my mind. "Why would he want to see me?"

I approached the reception desk where a woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor sat typing away. Clearing my throat, I showed her the message on my phone. She barely glanced at it before pointing to a door at the end of the hall.

“Through there,” she said, her voice clipped.

Nodding, “Thank you,” I said, walking toward the door.

With a hesitant knock, I entered the room.

“Good morning, Miss Elena,” a voice greeted me the moment I stepped inside.

The voice startled me, low and clear, commanding attention. I turned towards the woman who spoke behind the desk, she radiated authority, her sharp eyes assessing me as if she already knew everything about me. Did she recognize me?

“Good morning,” I replied cautiously, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach.

“Please, take your seat,” she instructed, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

I sat, my senses heightened as I glanced around. The office was pristine and professional, every detail speaking of order and control. It felt like the kind of place where mistakes weren’t tolerated.

Was she the secretary who messaged me? The thought flitted through my mind.

“You have thirty minutes to finish this, Miss Elena,” her voice broke through my thoughts.

I turned my attention back to her, confused. “Finish what?”

Without answering, she approached and set a laptop down in front of me.

“You were asked to take and complete this test within the time limit,” she explained briskly before stepping away.

A test? My stomach clenched. Slowly, I pulled the laptop closer, my fingers brushing against the cool surface.

The screen lit up, and the questions appeared. Recognition hit me like a wave.

“Oh,” I murmured.

The questions were from the manual the head maid had given me—the one she had specifically said I should study because there would be a test. How could I have forgotten?

Taking a deep breath, I focused on the task at hand. Thankfully, the questions were familiar. My earlier reading paid off as I worked through each one with growing confidence.

When I reached the final question, I double-checked my answers before clicking the submit button. The screen blinked, confirming my completion.

I leaned back in the chair, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

Was that it? Was I done? I wondered if I would be asked to return home now.

“You seem to have finished, Miss Elena?” the woman’s voice broke my thoughts, firm and professional.

“Yes… I’ve submitted,” I replied, my voice quiet but steady.

She leaned over to check the laptop, her eyes scanning the screen briefly. A moment later, she nodded.

“I see… You may proceed to Mr. Justin’s office now,” she said matter-of-factly.

My stomach dropped. Justin’s office? Why?

“Go this way and just walk straight down,” she added, pointing toward a hallway. My gaze followed her hand, and I nodded, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you,” I managed, forcing a polite smile before heading in the direction she indicated.

As I walked, my thoughts spiralled. Why did Justin want to see me? The test was not all? A small flicker of hope sparked in my chest. Maybe this was good. If we kept seeing each other, it would give me more opportunities to seduce him, wouldn’t it? But I still felt like it was too early to make my move now.

The hallway stretched endlessly, but at last, I stopped in front of a door marked with bold letters: CEO.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me I had arrived.

I hesitated, my pulse quickening as I lifted my hand and knocked twice. The silence on the other side felt heavy, I knocked again. No response.

Swallowing hard, I gripped the handle and gently pushed the door open.

The room was enormous, the kind of office that commanded respect. Clean lines, expansive windows, and furniture that screamed sophistication filled the space. But my eyes were drawn to him.

Justin sat in his chair, his posture relaxed yet imposing, his head tilted back against the headrest, eyes closed. The faint rise and fall of his chest suggested he was lost in thought—or perhaps resting.

This was the second time I’d seen him like this, so at ease, as if he owned not just the office but the entire world. Maybe this was a habit of his—a moment of solitude amidst the chaos.

I stood there for a moment, unsure whether to speak or wait, the silence stretching between us like a taut string.

“Good morning, sir,” I finally said, breaking the silence.

His eyes opened, sharp and focused, as he sat upright. With a brief gesture, he motioned for me to take a seat.

In front of his desk was a small sitting area with plush sofas arranged for intimate conversations. I chose one, lowering myself carefully. He remained silent as he stood and picked up a stack of papers from his desk before joining me, sitting about three feet away on the adjacent sofa.

I couldn't figure out why his presence kept intimidating me somehow...

“Mental disorder brought upon by the loss of a child,” he read slowly, his voice steady but heavy with implication.

The words struck like a dagger. My face flushed, and a sharp ache spread through my chest as if my heart was being wrung.

“Is this true?” he asked, his voice pulling me back to the present.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely audible. “Yes… sir.”

He sighed the sound soft but loaded with meaning. “How did it happen?”

The question froze me. No one had asked me that in five years—not directly. I wasn’t prepared for it.

“Do I have to answer that?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice was shaky, almost pleading.

“Yes,” Justin replied casually, his tone calm but insistent, leaving no room for avoidance.

I stared at my hands, clasped tightly in my lap. “I... I don’t know…” I muttered, the truth too painful to voice. My chest tightened, the memories pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t lift. My child wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be. He was still out there somewhere.

“One moment he was there… and then… the next, he wasn’t,” I finally said, my voice breaking on the last word.

Justin made a low sound, somewhere between acknowledgement and consideration, but he didn’t interrupt.

“And then,” he said after a moment, “as soon as you got out, looking for a job was the first thing you did.” He asked, raising one eyebrow.

I tensed, the implication behind his words clear. He was suspicious of me, of my motives. And why wouldn’t he be? Considering where I’d been the past five years, anyone would question me.

But at this rate, he might actually figure out what I’m after.