"Is the inventory checklist complete?" My voice was flat, devoid of emotion, as I walked to the machine and brewed a black coffee.

"Not... not yet."

"Then you have time to gossip?" I turned, pinning them with a cold stare.

"I want the confirmation email for all materials and the rehearsal sign-offs in my inbox before 7:00 PM. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Director!"

They scrambled out like frightened mice.

Clutching the warm mug, I stood by the window, watching the stream of traffic below.

Five years ago, this district was a wasteland.

Jonathan and I had huddled in that basement, sharing a single cup of noodles because we couldn't afford two.

I remembered the night he fashioned a ring out of a soda can pull-tab. He had slid it onto my finger with trembling hands.

"When we go public," he had whispered, the dim bulb reflecting in his fervent eyes, "I'll replace this with the real thing. A diamond. The biggest one money can buy."

I had smiled and nodded, but truthfully, I loved that jagged piece of aluminum.

Because back then, I was the only thing in his universe.

My phone buzzed, shattering the memory.

Jonathan: *Dinner with investors tonight. Go home without me. Don't wait up.*

I stared at the text until my coffee turned ice cold.

*Okay.*

The night of the gala, the banquet hall was a kaleidoscope of crystal and light.

I stood near the entrance, clipboard in hand, running the final security sweep.

Then the doors opened.

Anna Pruitt glided in wearing a custom silver haute couture gown that clung to her like liquid moonlight. She walked straight toward Jonathan, who was holding court in the center of the room.

"Jonathan." Her voice was a bell, clear and bright, drawing every eye in the room. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

Jonathan's face lit up—a genuine spark I hadn't seen in months. "Right on time."

He offered his arm.

Anna looped hers through it, and they stood there, shoulder to shoulder.

A perfect, golden couple.

I looked down at my own dress—a sensible champagne sheath.

Elegant. Professional. Appropriate for an Administrative Director.

The uniform of the support staff, not the star.

My assistant jogged over, looking distressed. "Director Kaufman... Mr. Gilbert is asking about the seating adjustment..."

"Execute the new chart." My voice was steady as granite.

"But..." She hesitated, biting her lip. "That seat in the second row... it's..."

"I said, execute the new chart."