Ella Lu Point Of View''
The lobby doors whooshed open, and the blast of cold, corporate air hit me like judgment. Lu Group's towering glass atrium shimmered with wealth and ego. Marble floors, chrome finishes, digital wall panels blinking with numbers and forecasts I no longer looked at. They were just noise. The real danger was people.
I adjusted my badge. Ella Lin. My mother's name. A soft shield. Legal enough. Forgettable enough.
My flats squeaked slightly as I crossed the floor, the echo was louder than it should be. Everyone here moved like they mattered. Sharp heels. Designer suits. Names that clicked doors open. I didn't want that. I wanted the opposite.
I kept my head down, eyes on the floor tile just ahead. One misstep, one raised brow, and the wrong person might remember me. And if he remembered me, this whole illusion would crack.
I hugged my reusable coffee cup tighter. It wasn't coffee inside. Just water. A prop. Something to hold when anxiety made my hands twitch.
The elevator dinged. I stepped in with three other employees. A marketing exec. A junior analyst. A security intern. None of them looked at me. Good.
The doors closed.
Eighteen floors. Not long, but long enough for my heart to pound. I replayed the name again in my head: Damian Lu.
CEO. Cold. Sharp. Dangerous.
Also, my husband. Technically.
I hadn't seen his face the day we married. Not really. It had all happened so fast. A waiting room. A lawyer's offer. A script. I remembered his signature more than his eyes. That was the point. No faces. No ties.
And now he was back.
I stepped off on the eighteenth floor, the carpet muting my footsteps. The air was different up here—more controlled, somehow heavier. People stood straighter when executives passed. But I was just another analyst. Invisible.
Caleb waved from his cubicle. Bright smile. Too bright.
I nodded politely and kept walking.
"Ella," he called softly.
I turned. "Yeah?"
"There's a rumor going around. Something about Mr. Lu visiting our floor today. Spontaneous leadership review. You okay?"
My stomach dropped. My grip on the coffee cup tightened.
"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
He hesitated, then shrugged. "Just... wanted to check. You look a little pale."
I offered him a smile I didn't feel. "Didn't sleep."
"If he comes over here, you don't have to say anything. I can run interference."
That made me like him. And fear him. I nodded again. "Thanks, Caleb."
I slid into my cubicle, put down my bag, and turned on my monitor with shaking fingers.
He was really back. After two years. And he didn't know. He couldn't.
I had planned for this. Mapped out scenarios. Memorized excuses. I was just another employee. Low-tier. Non-essential. I filed reports, double-checked numbers, sent reminders no one read. I existed on the margins of every org chart. The safest place to be.
And now, he might walk onto this floor.
My screen blurred. I blinked hard.
I thought I had buried this. Him. The courthouse. The way he left without a word. No goodbye, no closure. One signature and gone. And stupid me—I waited. For what? A text? A wire transfer? A human moment?
He gave me exactly what he promised: nothing.
So why was my pulse trying to crawl up my throat?
A shadow crossed my cubicle wall.
I froze.
It passed. Not him.
Breathe.
I opened the LuNet dashboard, pretending to focus. The screen lit up with charts and forecasts. None of it mattered. I could barely see it.
Then a voice from down the hallway. Familiar. Clipped. Commanding.
Damian Lu.
He was here.
Laughter followed. Employees trying too hard. I risked a glance. Just enough to see the back of his head. Sharp suit. Straight spine.
He turned slightly. And that was all it took.
I ducked my head and stared at my keyboard. My hands trembled.
I didn't recognize his face, but my body did.
My skin buzzed. My stomach twisted. It was him. That presence. Cold and heavy like a thunderstorm.
Why was he here? Why this floor? He never came here.
Had he found out?
No. If he had, he wouldn't be smiling.
His voice carried over to Caleb's desk. They shook hands. Caleb was saying something about operations efficiency.
I heard him ask, "And what about this one?"
Then a pause.
"Ella Lin. What do you do here?"
My heart stopped.
I stood slowly, turned with the tightest smile I could fake.
"Mr. Lu."
His eyes locked on mine.
Blank.
He didn't know me.
I felt something twist low in my chest. Not relief. Not quite.
"I handle mid-level resource reporting and internal system reconciliations. Mostly backend data validation."
He studied me. Eyes cold, clinical.
"How long have you been with the company?"
"Six months."
He nodded slowly. Then, "Do I know you from somewhere?"
I froze. Just for a second.
"No, sir. I don't think so."
He held my gaze for too long. Like he was trying to peel something back. I stared back. Empty. Calm.
Then Caleb, bless him, jumped in with some stats that distracted Damian long enough for me to sit down again.
The rest of the visit blurred. I couldn't hear much. I typed nothing. I stared at a spreadsheet until numbers became meaningless shapes.
He left twenty minutes later.
And I sat there, pulse hammering.
He didn't know. But he noticed me.
That was worse.
Much worse.
I stared at the nameplate on my desk. Ella Lin.
Fake enough to hide behind.
But not strong enough to keep him away.
Not if he started digging.
I would need a plan.
Because the man I married had just looked me in the eye and asked if we'd met.
And I wasn't sure how long I could keep lying.