My Boss’s Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Marcus was reviewing the quarterly projections when his office door opened.

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Elara walked in holding a white envelope. Her expression was unreadable, professional. The same face she’d worn for three years whenever she delivered bad news about delayed reports or scheduling conflicts.

“Mr. Thorne.”

“Miss Vance.”

She crossed the room and placed the envelope on his desk. “My resignation letter. Effective immediately.”

Marcus already knew. It was in the contract. Page nineteen. Employment termination clause. His fiancée couldn’t remain his assistant. People would ask questions. Wonder why the woman he supposedly loved was still taking orders from him

in meetings.

But hearing her say it out loud made something shift in his chest.

He picked up the envelope without opening it. “Understood.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

She nodded and turned to leave.

Marcus watched her walk toward the door and found himself thinking something he’d never allowed himself to think

before.

She was beautiful.

Not in the obvious way. Not like the models and actresses he’d dated who knew exactly how attractive they were and weaponized it. Elara’s beauty was quieter. Sharper. The kind that snuck up on you when you weren’t paying attention.

He’d spent three years deliberately not noticing. Kept his distance. Made her life difficult because acknowledging anything

else felt dangerous.

Now he was supposed to fall in love with her.

How did someone go from disliking a person to being in love with them? Was it even possible? Or would this entire charade fall apart the moment someone looked too closely?

She reached for the door handle.

“Elara:”

She stopped. Turned back. “Yes?”

“You’re a good assistant.” The words felt inadequate. “One of the best I’ve had.”

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Her eyebrows raised slightly. It might have been the first genuine compliment he’d given her in three years.

“Thank you.”

“Did you get the call about your makeover appointment?”

“Yes. Three PM.”

“Good.” He set the envelope aside. “Enjoy it. Make the most of it.”

She smiled. Small and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or being sincere. “I will.”

This time when she left, Marcus didn’t stop her.

He turned back to his laptop, trying to refocus on the projections. Revenue growth. Market expansion. Things that made

sense. Things he could control.

Five minutes passed.

Marcus glanced at the chair across from his desk. Elara’s bag was still there. Black leather, worn at the edges. She’d had it for at least two years. He recognized the coffee stain on the side from the morning she’d spilled her drink while juggling three different reports he’d demanded simultaneously.

She’d forgotten it.

He grabbed the bag and headed for the door. Took the elevator down to the lobby, scanning the space for her. The

reception area was busy. People moving between meetings. Assistants rushing with folders and tablets.

No Elara.

Marcus pushed through the glass doors to the compound of the office. She was halfway down the block, walking fast like

she had somewhere important to be.

“Elara!”

She didn’t hear him. Or didn’t turn around. Either way, she kept walking.

Marcus increased his pace. “Hi mama, wait up!”

The words came out before he could stop them. Louder than intended. People at the reception turned to look.

Elara stopped and spun around, surprise written all over her face.

Marcus closed the distance between them, holding up her bag. “You forgot this.”

She stared at the bag. Then at him. “Oh. Thank you.”

He didn’t hand it over immediately. Instead, he stepped closer. Close enough that anyone watching would think they were having an intimate conversation.

“We have to sell this lie for it to work,” he said quietly.

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Chapter 11

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Before she could respond, Marcus took her hand. Brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Slow. Deliberate. His eyes never leaving hers.

Her breath stopped for a while,

He reached up with his free hand and brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Let his fingers linger

Marcus smiled. Not his usual controlled, boardroom smile. Something closer to genuine. “My driver will take you home, give him the address and he’ll pick you up too.”

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