Chapter 4 - The Public SmearThe headline on Business Insider flashed across every computer screen in the Northstar open-plan office like a digital explosion:
“INSIDER TRADING AND DELUSIONAL CLAIMS: INSIDE NORTHSTAR’S DESPERATE COVER-UP, AND THE UNSTABLE EMPLOYEE DRIVING IT.”
The article—clearly ghostwritten by Sterling Global’s PR machine—painted a malicious, distorted picture of me. They leaked my employee file, highlighted my lack of prior high-profile corporate experience, and weaponized my quiet, private personal life to portray me as an erratic, emotionally unstable individual who had fabricated financial discrepancies to win the CEO’s attention.
Across the office, whispers followed me as I walked toward the breakroom. Some employees looked away nervously; others stared with thinly veiled judgment. The sting of public humiliation, weaponized by corporate greed, burned deep.
Harper slammed her coffee mug onto the breakroom counter, her face flushed with righteous fury. “Those lying, manipulative cowards! They’re trying to assassinate your character because they know they can’t beat your math!”
“It’s classic corporate warfare,” I said, my voice eerily calm as I stared at my reflection in the dark glass of the microwave. Deep down, the old fear whispered that everyone would believe the lie—that a twenty-eight-year-old woman who didn't fit society's mold was an easy target for character assassination.
Suddenly, the heavy glass door of the breakroom slid open.
Nathan stood there. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket; his tie was loosened, and his eyes burned with a cold, protective fire. He didn't look at Harper or anyone else lingering outside the glass. He walked straight up to me, ignoring every pair of eyes in the room.
“Pack your things,” Nathan said, his voice commanding absolute authority.
“What?” I blinked, surprised. “Nathan, we have the audit report to finalize for tomorrow morning. I can't just leave—”
“You aren't leaving the company, Maya. You’re moving upstairs,” he interrupted, taking my hand in his, lacing his fingers firmly through mine in front of the entire floor. “My executive suite has a private residential annex. Effective immediately, you are working directly out of my private office under my direct protection, with federal security stationed outside the door.”
A collective gasp echoed through the open-plan office. Employees stopped typing, staring in stunned silence as the billionaire CEO publicly claimed and defended an ordinary analyst against a multi-billion-dollar corporate smear campaign.
“Nathan, you can’t do that,” I protested, heat rushing to my cheeks. “It will only give them more ammunition to say—”
“Let them talk,” Nathan interrupted, his voice dropping into a fierce, tender whisper that only I could hear. “Let them say whatever they want. I spent my whole life caring about what the board, the investors, and the media thought of me. I’m done hiding. And I refuse to let them hurt the woman I love.”
The word hung in the air between us, heavy, undeniable, and utterly breathtaking.
May you like
Love.
Before I could process the seismic shift in my universe, Nathan pulled me gently against his chest, shielding me from the staring crowd, and led me out of the bullpen toward the private elevator.
