Chapter 3 — Cracks Begin to Show
Daniel
The steady hum of the city outside barely reached the glass cocoon of Daniel Cross’s office. From his vantage point, the world below seemed distant, manageable, and uncomplicated—unlike the chaos of his day so far. The skyline sprawled endlessly, a portrait of control and ambition, which should have comforted him. Yet today, it felt more like a taunt.
Daniel leaned back in his chair, his piercing blue eyes focusing on a point far beyond the horizon. His mind, however, remained rooted in the present—and to Sophie Bennett. His new assistant had been an unexpected variable in his meticulously ordered life. In just a few days, she’d demonstrated an uncanny ability to untangle the mess his calendar had become, deftly juggling meetings, presentations, and his ever-growing list of demands. Most assistants faltered under the weight of the position, but not Sophie. She had handled herself with an ease that bordered on unnerving.
And then there was the laugh.
It had drifted through the quiet hum of the office earlier, light and unguarded. His gaze had been pulled, unbidden, to the glass wall separating him from the main office floor, where Sophie had been sitting at her desk. Rachel Adler, dressed in one of her trademark sunny blazers, was perched on the edge of Sophie’s desk, gesturing animatedly. Sophie’s laugh had spilled out again, soft but genuine, and for a moment, Daniel had been struck by how out of place it felt. Not unwelcome—just… unexpected. A warmth that didn’t belong in the cold sterility of his world.
He should have turned away, ignored it. But instead, he’d found himself watching as Sophie leaned forward slightly, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. She was relaxed, her posture loose, a rare crack in her usual composed demeanor. Her ponytail swayed as she shifted, the chestnut strands catching the light pouring in from the windows.
It wasn’t the first time Rachel had taken a new employee under her wing. Rachel’s knack for making people feel at ease was part of her charm. But something about Sophie—her ability to find these moments of reprieve even in the high-pressure environment of Cross Enterprises—twisted a knot of unease in Daniel’s chest. She wasn’t merely surviving here; she was adapting, fitting in, in ways he hadn’t anticipated. It was… distracting. And distractions were dangerous.
“Mr. Cross, your call with Anderson is in three minutes,” Sophie’s voice broke through his thoughts, calm and unobtrusive, delivered through the intercom.
“Thank you, Ms. Bennett,” he replied, his tone clipped. He appreciated her restraint, her ability to communicate efficiently without the usual deluge of small talk. Still, her presence lingered, unshakable.
The call with Anderson came and went, another predictable negotiation in a long line of power plays. Yet, even as Daniel moved through the familiar motions, his mind kept circling back to Sophie. When the call ended, his eyes fell to the folder on the edge of his desk—notes for tomorrow’s presentation. The weight of his responsibilities pressed down heavily, as it always did, but today his focus wavered.
This wasn’t like him.
He rose abruptly, the scrape of his chair cutting through the silence, and strode toward the window. The city stretched before him, endless and unrelenting, the sprawl a reflection of his empire. He thought of Sophie’s laugh again, unbidden. It hadn’t been loud or obtrusive, but its warmth had carried through the glass walls, brushing against the edges of his carefully constructed defenses.
His phone buzzed on the desk behind him, pulling his gaze away. He turned and glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening when he saw the sender’s name: Mother. He didn’t open the message. He already knew what it would say—some thinly veiled reminder of his shortcomings, or perhaps an attempt to summon him to another formal family obligation he had no intention of attending. Either way, it wasn’t worth his time. He silenced the notification and slipped the phone into the drawer, out of sight but not out of mind.
Through the glass, Rachel was still at Sophie’s desk, though their conversation had shifted. Rachel gestured toward Daniel’s office, her expression playful, and Sophie’s lips curved into a fleeting smile before she quickly tucked the expression away. Daniel frowned. He could imagine Rachel’s teasing remarks, likely at his expense, and while he didn’t mind Rachel’s irreverence, the idea of being the subject of Sophie’s amusement unsettled him more than it should have.
The faint hum of activity outside the office only amplified his growing irritation. He strode back to his desk and pressed the intercom button. “Ms. Bennett, please step into my office.”
The outer noise stilled immediately. A moment later, Sophie appeared in the doorway, a notebook tucked under her arm, her expression composed but alert.
“Yes, Mr. Cross?” she asked, stepping inside and easing the door shut behind her.
He gestured to the chair opposite his desk, though he remained standing. “I need you to confirm the presentation materials for tomorrow’s meeting. I’ve marked a few sections that require clarification.” He handed her the folder, his tone as even and detached as ever.
“Of course.” Sophie moved forward, her movements precise, and opened the folder. Her brows furrowed slightly as she absorbed the details, and there it was again—her quiet focus, her ability to cut through the noise of a task without hesitation. There was no false bravado, no nervous floundering, just a calm determination that was entirely her own.
“Is there anything else you need clarified?” she asked, her gaze locking with his. Her hazel eyes were steady, unflinching, and it struck him how rarely he encountered that. Most people in his presence either avoided direct eye contact or overcompensated with forced confidence. Sophie, however, met him on even ground, neither intimidated nor deferential.
“No,” he said after a beat, his voice softer than he intended. “That will be all.”
She nodded, closing the folder and straightening. “I’ll have the revisions back to you by the end of the day.”
She turned to leave, and then he spoke again, surprising himself. “You’ve adapted quickly, Ms. Bennett.”
She paused, glancing back at him with a hint of a smile—not smug, not overly confident, but quietly self-assured. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Her words hung in the air long after she’d left the room, the soft click of the door closing behind her reverberating through the silence. Daniel exhaled, sinking back into his chair. The day stretched ahead, filled with meetings, deadlines, and the ever-present shadow of Marcus’s scheming. And yet, his thoughts kept drifting back to Sophie—her laugh, her resilience, the way she seemed to slip beneath the cracks of his carefully controlled world without even trying.
He opened the drawer to his left and pulled out the broken wristwatch. The cracked glass glinted in the light, its jagged surface catching his fingertips as he traced the lines. The watch was a relic of his past, a tether to a moment he’d tried and failed to leave behind. The weight of it in his hand felt heavier today, as though the memories it carried were pressing harder against the walls of his mind.
The broken watch had been with him for years, a symbol of guilt he could never quite shake. He clenched it tightly, the edges digging into his palm, before slipping it back into the drawer with a decisive snap. There was no place for sentimentality here, no room for the cracks and flaws that Sophie Bennett seemed to reflect with her every unguarded laugh and unflinching gaze.
And yet, as he returned to his work, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Sophie was more than just a distraction. She was a mirror, reflecting the parts of himself he’d long buried. And for the first time in years, he wasn’t sure if he could look away.