Page 2 of The Secret Bride
I nodded quickly.
"Yes, Aunty. I will be back."
She did not ask where I was going. She did not ask if I had eaten breakfast. She simply turned her attention back to her phone, already forgetting I was there.
I slipped out of the house before she could think of anything else to add to my list of tasks. The morning air was cool and fresh, a welcome relief after the heat of the kitchen. I walked quickly to the main road and flagged down an auto. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
"New Gen Corp," I told the driver.
He nodded and pulled into the traffic. I sat back against the worn seat, clutching my file tightly in my lap. The city blurred past the open sides of the auto, a chaotic mix of honking cars, colorful shop fronts, and people rushing to their destinations. I tried to calm my breathing, tried to steady the nervous energy coursing through me.
This was my chance. I could not mess this up.
The ride felt both endless and far too short. When the auto finally pulled up in front of the towering glass building that housed New Gen Corp, I paid the driver with shaking hands and stepped out onto the pavement. The building loomed above me, all sleek lines and reflective glass that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. People in crisp business attire movedin and out of the revolving doors with confident, purposeful strides. I felt very small standing there.
But I had come this far. I was not going to turn back now.
I took a deep breath and walked inside. The lobby was vast and gleaming, filled with polished marble floors and modern art installations. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of expensive perfume and fresh coffee. I felt out of place in my simple clothes, but I pushed the feeling aside and walked up to the reception desk.
The receptionist was a young woman in a smart blazer, her hair pulled back in a sleek bun. She looked up at me with a polite, professional smile.
"Good morning. How can I help you?"
"Good morning. I am here for an interview. Can you tell me where the interviews are being held?"
She glanced at her computer screen, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard.
"Fifteenth floor. The elevators are just over there."
She pointed toward a row of silver elevator doors on the far side of the lobby. I thanked her and made my way across the polished floor, my footsteps echoing softly in the cavernous space. My palms were sweating. I wiped them on my jeans and pressed the button to call the elevator.
The elevator arrived with a soft chime, and the doors slid open smoothly. I stepped inside, pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, and watched as the doors began to close.
Then, at the last possible second, a black shoe wedged itself between the closing doors.
The doors jerked open again, and a man stepped inside. He was tall, impossibly tall, and dressed in a black suit so perfectly tailored it looked like it had been made just for him. His presence filled the elevator immediately, commanding and absolute. He did not look at me. He simply moved to the control panel and pressed the button for the thirtieth floor.
The doors closed, and the elevator began to rise.
I pressed myself against the side wall, trying to make myself as small and invisible as possible. The man stood beside me, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, his gaze fixed on the glowing numbers above the door. He smelled incredible. His cologne was rich and warm. It filled the small space between us, wrapping around me in a way that made my head feel light.
I kept my eyes on the numbers, counting the floors as we climbed. Tenth. Eleventh. Twelfth.
Then the elevator stopped.
Not at a floor. Just stopped.
The smooth hum of the machinery went silent. The lights flickered once. The numbers above the door froze.
My stomach dropped. The air suddenly felt too thick, too heavy. The walls of the elevator seemed to close in around me, shrinking the space until I could barely breathe. My chest tightened painfully.
No. Not now. Not here.
I had been claustrophobic for as long as I could remember. Small spaces terrified me. Trapped spaces made my entire body go into panic mode. And now I was stuck in a metal box suspended between floors with no way out.
I lunged forward and started pressing every button on the panel, my fingers shaking so badly I could barely aim. The buttons lit up under my touch, but nothing happened. The elevator did not move. The doors did not open.
"Open. Please. Please open."
