The board is meeting this afternoon to address the situation formally. How is she? A pause. Functioning, which is about all any of us can say right now. Amanda's voice softened.
She asked me to tell you specifically that security has been enhanced across all facilities, that Derek and his co-conspirators are in custody, and that you should take the next few days off to recover. "I don't need—" "It's not a request, Mr. Cole." It's a direct order from Ms. Hart. She's quite insistent. Another pause.
Between you and me, she needs to know you're safe and resting. It's the only thing keeping her focused right now. Marcus closed his eyes, understanding the subtext. Elena was using his safety as a focal point, something concrete to hold on to when everything else was chaos. Tell her I'm taking care of myself, he said quietly. and that I'll be here when she needs me.
I will. And Mr. Cole, thank you for everything you've done for her. The call ended. The next three days were surreal. The story dominated every news cycle, attempted assassination, corporate conspiracy, the brilliant young CEO who'd survived multiple attempts on her life.
Elena's face was everywhere, giving interviews addressing shareholders projecting strength and control while the company's stock price actually rose on the narrative of her resilience. Marcus watched from home, healing slowly, fielding calls from co-workers who wanted details he wouldn't share. Webb called once to say the investigation was expanding, that the full scope of the conspiracy involved more people than they'd initially suspected, but that Elena was safe now with enhanced security and the threat neutralized. She didn't call, didn't text, and Marcus understood that, too. She was in crisis management mode.
Every moment scheduled and strategic. No room for personal complications. But understanding didn't stop him from checking his phone obsessively, hoping for some small sign that she was thinking about him. On the fourth day, Mrs. Chen knocked on his door with a package, small wrapped in plain brown paper, his name written in elegant handwriting. Inside was a book, a worn copy of Where the Wild Things Are, and a note card.
Lily mentioned in passing that you read to her every night, but your copy of this got damaged in a move. Found this at a bookstore near my apartment and thought of you both. Thank you for understanding why I need space right now. It doesn't mean I've forgotten what you said or what I said or what happened between us, just that I need to build something stable before I can let myself want something personal.
I hope that makes sense. I hope you'll wait a little longer. E Marcus sat on his couch holding the book, reading the note three times. She'd remembered a throwaway comment about a children's book, had gone out of her way to replace it, was asking him to wait while she rebuilt her world.