A few minutes later, I took a deep breath, grabbed the documents, and headed to Chak's office. When I walked in, he was sitting behind his desk, typing something on his computer. The soft hum of the air conditioner mixed with the quiet tapping of the keyboard filled the room, making it feel calm yet tense. I stepped closer and handed him the papers.
He looked up. The moment our eyes met, his expression softened.
"Are you nervous?" he asked.
"A little," I admitted. "I'm scared she'll find out I lied to her… and that you'll be humiliated because of me. I don't know why I didn't just tell her the truth from the start."
"Niran," he said calmly, "you don't have to be afraid. Everything will be alright."
He reached across the desk and gently took my hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.
"I'm with you. Now… and always," he said, offering me a soft smile.
Then he let go of my hand and turned back to his screen. In an instant, he was back to being Office Chak.
"I'm about to send you something. Print it and bring it to me as soon as possible."
"Understood, sir," I said, giving him a slight bow.
I left Chak's office and headed over to the copy machine. After making the copies, I returned and placed the documents neatly on his desk just as Vikran walked into the office.
When he saw me, he gave me a strange look.
"Niran, please leave us alone," he said calmly.
"I'm already going," I replied, keeping my voice as neutral as I could.
I glanced at Chak one last time before stepping out.
Vikran again, I muttered in my mind, suppressing a sigh as I walked back to my desk.
What are they even talking about? Why does he always show up unannounced?
The questions gnawed at me, a strange unease settling in my chest. Vikran's presence always brought with it a silent tension I couldn't quite shake.
I tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the soft tapping of keyboards and the distant murmur of conversations around me.
"Niran, come here," Amara called out.
I stood up and headed toward her desk. She looked overwhelmed—her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear, papers scattered all around. The clutter of notes and files made the desk look like a battlefield. With her free hand, she gestured toward a drawer and mouthed something I didn't catch.
Then, mid-conversation on the phone, she paused, pulled the device slightly away, and asked, "Do you see the receipts from four months ago? The ones for the kitchen expenses?"
I bent slightly, scanning the mess on her desk.
"They might be under that blue folder," I offered, and she gave a quick nod, clearly too swamped to answer properly.
Finally, she hung up and turned to me with a tired smile. Her eyes held the weight of too many sleepless nights.
"Could you do me a favor? In about ten minutes, can you head downstairs and pick up my lunch order?"
"Of course," I replied, already relieved at the chance to escape the tension in the office. A short walk and fresh air suddenly sounded like the best idea in the world.
I was slowly making my way to the entrance when Non came up to me.
"Orasa just arrived," he said.
"Thanks," I replied quickly and turned into the restroom just to avoid running into her.
When I came to the restroom I slowly inhale and said to myself. I hope she doesn't search me. The moment later Non came to the restroom.
"She went to the meeting room," he said.
"Thanks again, Non," I said, then left to pick up Amara's lunch.
When I reached the delivery guy and collected the takeout bag, I heard a girl at the front desk say,
"I'm here to see Mr. Chak."
I turned and saw a foreign girl standing there looking slightly out of place but confident. Her brown hair fell softly to her shoulders, framing her face in gentle waves. Her blue-gray eyes held a quiet strength, curious but composed. She carried herself with a natural elegance, her posture upright and assured. She wore black jeans, a beige long sleeved shirt, and a faded blue jean jacket. There was something familiar about her a feeling stirring inside me, but I couldn't quite place it.
I walked up to her and said, "Come here."
We stepped aside from the counter. I looked at her and asked, "Are you from Europe?"
"Yes," she replied.
"I need your help. If you help me, I'll take you to the boss."
She nodded without saying a word.
We walked over to the reception desk, and I calmly told them, "She's with me."
Then we headed toward the elevator.
"Niran," I introduced myself.
"Anamarija," she said with a small smile.
"What kind of help do you need from me?" she asked.
I hesitated a bit before replying, "Pretend you're my girlfriend. We met three months ago through an online art seminar."
"Okay," she said, then added, "One problem I don't know anything about art. I only know who painted the Mona Lisa." She grinned.
"That's more than enough," I smiled back.
"Do you have an idea for a name you should use?" I asked.
"Why?" she looked confused.
"I don't want that woman to know your real name or where you're from. Just to keep you out of trouble."
"What if you are Anna from France?"
"No," she said quickly. "I don't have a French accent. And I don't speak French."
"What about Bella from Italy?"
"I know a little Italian," she nodded.
"Perfect. Bella it is," I said with a smile.
As we stepped out of the elevator, I immediately noticed heads turning in our direction. Anamarija aka Bella, as she was now definitely made an impression. Her confident posture, striking presence, and unfamiliar face had people whispering already.
I walked over to Amara's desk and placed her lunch in front of her.
"Thanks," she said distractedly, not even looking at the food. Her eyes were glued to Bella.
"Who is that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Before I could answer, Non appeared behind me.
"Yo, Niran! Who's that beauty?" he grinned, clearly intrigued.
"I'll explain later," I replied quickly.
I turned to Bella. "Come on."
We walked past a few more desks, and I could feel eyes following us like laser beams. Someone even nudged a coworker and whispered something under their breath. Bella noticed the attention but didn't seem fazed. She walked beside me with quiet confidence, her chin slightly lifted, her steps calm but purposeful.
"Is everyone always this nosy?" she asked under her breath.
I smirked. "Only when I walk in with a gorgeous foreigner."
We stopped in front of the meeting room. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating. I could feel it tightening around my chest. I took a deep breath, and opened the door.
The room went silent.
Kit and Taeng both froze mid-conversation, staring at us with their mouths slightly open. Chak, who had been taking a sip of water, nearly choked and had to set his glass down with a sharp cough.
Vikran looked like he had just bitten into a lemon, while Orasa's eyes narrowed immediately, scanning Bella from head to toe like a threat had just walked in.
I stepped inside with Bella right beside me and forced myself to stay calm.
"This is Bella," I said, my voice steady. "My girlfriend."
The silence was almost comical.
Kit blinked. "Wait… what?"
Taeng's jaw dropped. "You have a girlfriend?"
I gave a short nod. "Yeah. We met three months ago during an online art seminar."
Bella smiled and waved politely. "Nice to meet you all."
Chak didn't say anything. His gaze shifted between me and Bella like he was trying to solve a puzzle in real time.
Taeng leaned over and whispered something to Kit, who elbowed him quickly and shushed him.
Amara had slipped in behind us and was now whispering to another assistant by the wall, clearly trying to piece together what was happening.
Vikran exchanged a look with Orasa. Her expression hadn't changed still perfectly calm, perfectly fake.
"Well," she said slowly, standing up, "isn't this… surprising."
Her voice carried a chill that sliced through the room. "This is impossible," she added sharply, her eyes locking onto me with a mixture of disbelief and something darker.