The 6:00 PM Sharp
The gold-leaf lettering on the glass door read Thorne Global, but to Brielle Simmons, it might as well have said Home.
It was 6:42 PM. The sun was dipping below the Chicago skyline, casting long, amber shadows across the plush charcoal carpet of the executive suite. Most of the floor was dark, but the corner office was still humming with the low, rhythmic vibration of the city below and the soft click of Brielle’s keyboard.
Brielle adjusted her glasses, her eyes scanning the quarterly projection for the third time. She was a vision of emerald green and efficiency, her hair pulled back into a sleek, low bun. She didn’t just work for Elias Thorne; she anticipated him.
The heavy oak door swung open.
Elias Thorne didn’t walk into a room; he took possession of it. He had discarded his suit jacket hours ago, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that looked more like they belonged to a heavyweight boxer than a billionaire. His skin was the color of deep espresso, polished and flawless under the recessed lighting.
"You're still here," Elias said. It wasn't a question. It was an observation of a fact he relied on.
"The merger details for the Vanguard group needed a final eyes-on, Elias," Brielle replied, her voice steady. She was the only person in the building allowed to call him by his first name behind closed doors. "And your 8:00 AM flight to New York is confirmed. Car picks you up at 5:30."
Elias leaned against her mahogany desk, smelling of sandalwood and the cold winter air that clung to the windows. He looked exhausted, but even his fatigue had a sharp, dangerous edge to it.
"Cancel the flight," he said quietly.
Brielle paused, her fingers hovering over the keys. "Cancel it? The board is expecting you to sign the closing papers in person. If you don't show, Sterling is going to use it as leverage to question your commitment to the chair."
Elias let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Sterling is already questioning my commitment. The board had an 'informal' meeting this afternoon while I was at the site visit. It seems my personal life—or lack thereof—is becoming a 'PR liability' for a company that prides itself on family legacy and stability."
Brielle frowned, finally looking up. "That’s ridiculous. Your personal life is nonexistent because you're building an empire for them."
"They want a CEO who is settled. Stable. Predictable," Elias stepped closer, his shadow falling over her desk. "Sterling is pushing for a vote of no confidence by the end of the quarter. Unless I can prove that I’m the family man the Thorne legacy demands."
The silence in the office thickened. Brielle could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. She felt a strange flutter in her chest, one she usually suppressed with spreadsheets and schedules.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
Elias reached out, his hand resting on the edge of her desk, inches from hers. He looked at her then—really looked at her—with an intensity that made her breath hitch.
"I already did it," he murmured. "I told them I was engaged. That the announcement would be made at the Founder’s Gala next week."
Brielle blinked. "Engaged? To whom? You haven't been on a date in eighteen months, Elias. I know, because I manage your calendar."
"I know," Elias said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a velvety growl. "That’s why I told them it was you."
The pen in Brielle’s hand hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Me?"
"You know me better than anyone, Brielle. You're the only person I trust with the keys to this kingdom. It’s a contract. Six months. I’ll double your salary, vest your shares early, and give you the seed money for that non-profit you’re always dreaming about."
He straightened up, his eyes locking onto hers, demanding an executive decision.
"I need a wife, Brielle. And I need her by Monday."
