The office corridors were colder the next morning.
Or maybe it was just Rihanna's nerves prickling at every corner she turned.
She kept the small note tucked safely in her wallet — Be careful who you trust.It burned against her every time she reached for something.
Who had written it?Was it Mirella?Or someone else?
Either way, she couldn't ignore it anymore.
[Aurelio International — Executive Wing]
Rihanna was summoned upstairs — the top floor.
A place she had never been invited before.
The glass elevator hummed quietly as she ascended, her reflection fractured a hundred times against the mirrored walls.
When the doors slid open, she found herself standing in a minimalist hallway.
Expensive art.Pristine marble.Silence that rang louder than any noise.
A young assistant greeted her with a polished smile.
"Ms. Thompson? This way, please."
She was led to a sleek meeting room — much smaller, much more intimate than before.
Inside, Lorenzo sat at the head of a narrow table, fingers steepled together, gaze razor-sharp.
Bianca leaned lazily against the far wall, arms crossed, watching like a bored queen surveying her prey.
"Sit," Lorenzo said.
It wasn't a suggestion.
Rihanna obeyed, folding her hands tightly in her lap.
Bianca was the first to speak.
"We've been reviewing your performance."
Rihanna's heart pounded."This is it. They're letting me go."
"You've shown..." Bianca paused, exchanging a glance with Lorenzo, "...unexpected potential."
Lorenzo's lips twitched in a smirk.
"We've decided," he said smoothly, "that you're ready for a more... challenging environment."
Bianca pushed a glossy folder across the table toward her.
"Effective immediately, you are reassigned to Mr. Moretti's division."
Rihanna blinked.
Lorenzo's division?
He was practically second-in-command.His department was infamous for its high-pressure projects, brutal standards, and, according to whispers, a turnover rate that made HR flinch.
"Is..." she started hesitantly, "is there a reason?"
Bianca smiled — a sharp, knowing curve of her mouth.
"You've been handpicked," she said sweetly."Consider it an honor."
Rihanna nodded slowly, though her gut twisted painfully.
Handpicked.For what?
She gathered the folder, murmuring thanks, and stood.
Lorenzo rose with her, towering effortlessly.
He leaned down, so close she could feel his breath against her temple.
"Welcome to the real Aurelio," he whispered.
She shivered.
[Later — Rihanna's Apartment]
She sat cross-legged on the floor, the assignment folder open before her.
Projects. Deadlines. Team structures.A ruthless schedule mapped out for the next six months.
It was dizzying.
Impossible.
And yet...
Some dark, secret part of her thrilled at the challenge.
At the idea of being chosen.Noticed.Important.
"Maybe they really do see something in me."
She traced her finger over the project names.
In small, italicized print, she found a list of internal mentors.Names she didn't recognize.
Except one.
Lorenzo Moretti — Executive Oversight.
Her chest tightened.
Their paths were about to cross a lot more.
And judging by the way he looked at her — touched her mind without ever laying a hand on her — she wasn't sure if she was prepared.
Outside her window, the lights of Milan glittered like a thousand watching eyes.
She closed the folder, locking her doubts away with it.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
Tomorrow, she would step closer into the web.
Unaware that each step was tightening the noose around her own neck.