Chapter 2- Esme Vallahe

Helga sighed deeply, the disbelief evident in her eyes. She couldn't comprehend the scene unfolding before her. Steeling herself, she approached the car with purposeful strides. Her gaze fixed on the staff member, who was visibly trembling, eyes wide with fear. The poor girl was so terrified that she collapsed onto the ground, her legs unable to support her any longer.

Helga's expression softened as she extended a hand towards the fallen staff member. With a polite smile, she spoke gently, "Get up." Her voice, though calm, carried an unspoken authority that made the staff member hesitate before shakily raising her own hand. Helga grasped it firmly, pulling her up with ease.

Reaching into her pocket, Helga produced a handkerchief, which she offered to the trembling girl. "Oh my, look how much you're sweating," she remarked with a touch of concern, her tone still polite. The staff girl, her face flushed with embarrassment, accepted the handkerchief with trembling hands and a grateful nod.

Helga's demeanor shifted as she straightened, her eyes narrowing slightly. She turned her head to the side, her gaze now icy as it locked onto the manager standing a few steps away. The change in her tone was palpable, turning cold and unyielding. "Fire her," she commanded, each word enunciated with a chilling finality.

The manager flinched at the command, his eyes darting nervously between Helga and the staff member.

As soon as Helga's words fell, the manager came running forward, his face flushed and dripping with sweat. He bowed his head deeply, his voice quivering with desperation. "Yes, Miss Helga, please forgive me," he pleaded, his eyes darting up to meet Helga's cold gaze.

The staff girl, upon hearing his words, let out a cry, her eyes widening in shock and despair.

Helga remained unmoved, her expression a mask of icy resolve as she looked down at the manager. The silence that followed was heavy, the tension palpable.

---

On other side , esme walked confidently down the hallway. People bowed to her as she passed, their gestures respectful and deferential. She responded with only a slight nod, her gaze fixed ahead as she continued her stride with purpose.

Helga soon caught up to her, falling into step just behind her. Esme didn't slow her pace, but she glanced sideways at Helga, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Haha, people say I am cold, but it looks like they need to change that perception," the Esme said, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and irony.

She didn't fully turn to look at Helga, but her eyes held a hint of warmth beneath their usual cold exterior. The subtle change in her expression was almost imperceptible, but to those who knew her well, it spoke volumes.

Helga matched her pace, her own expression softening just slightly as she recognized the hint of amusement in the woman's eyes.

She knew that behind the cold facade was a mind always at work, calculating and observing, yet capable of moments of surprising warmth.

Hearing her words, Helga, holding a file in her hand, responded in a polite yet calm tone, laced with a hint of amusement.

"Well, it's her fault," she said, nodding briefly to acknowledge others who greeted her as they passed by.

"If she wanted to spy, she should have at least learned what is needed and what isn't."

Esme's smirk grew smaller as she absorbed Helga's words. She stopped and tapped Helga's shoulder gently before walking ahead.

Helga remained in her place, her gaze following Esme with an unreadable expression. Though her usual indifference was intact, a flicker of pain was visible in her eyes.

The rule, harsh as it seemed to new employees who often lost their jobs without fully understanding it, was not Esme's creation.

It was implemented by the secretary department. When Esme took over the company, she managed to stabilize it within a year.

However, her success was met with resistance from competitors and even the company's old elders and directors.

They couldn't accept being ruled by a young woman, so they bribed a new employee to get close to Esme.

For a bit of money, that employee almost killed Esme. Since that day, Esme had become cold, a necessary armor to protect herself.

Helga often found herself reminiscing about the past, a time when laughter and genuine smiles lit up Esme's face like the warm glow of a summer sunrise.

But ever since that fateful day, Helga couldn't recall the last time she saw her friend smile with true happiness.

,.....

The office was cloaked in dim light, creating an atmosphere thick with tension. A holographic display hung in the center of the wall, resembling a translucent white sheet.

The flickering images and data from the projector on the table cast eerie shadows, adding to the room's oppressive mood.

Around the large, polished table sat ten men, their faces etched with anxiety and pressure.

The flickering holograph illuminated their worried expressions, highlighting every furrowed brow and clenched jaw. They shifted uncomfortably in their seats, the silence amplifying their unease.

Tap tap tap

At the center of this tension sat Esme, her presence dominating the room. She leaned back in her chair, one hand resting on the armrest, lightly tapping it in a slow, deliberate rhythm that echoed through the room.

In her other hand, she held a pen, which she occasionally twirled with an air of casual authority.

Her legs were crossed, her posture both relaxed and imposing. Her expression was cold, her eyes sharp and unyielding as they scanned the room, taking in the faces of the men before her.

Beside her stood Helga, holding a file with a steady grip. Her demeanor was calm and composed, providing a stark contrast to the palpable anxiety of the men seated at the table.

The dim light from the holograph cast a soft glow on her face, highlighting her poised expression as she observed the proceedings.

The men could barely conceal their fear as they glanced at Esme, knowing the weight of her expectations.

Each movement she made, from the tapping of her fingers to the subtle twirl of her pen, seemed to heighten the tension in the room. The authority she exuded was undeniable, a force that pressed down on everyone present.

Esme's voice, when she finally spoke, cut through the silence like a knife. "Let's proceed," she said, her tone ice-cold, each word dripping with control and expectation.

The men straightened in their seats, their movements almost mechanical, but some of them still held a disheveled look as they looked at Esme.

Esme, who saw their expressions, smirked and said in a calm yet cold tone, "What happened, Director William? Is there anything you want to say?" She slightly flipped her pen in her hand and stopped, her gaze piercing through the room .

Director William, whose name was called, became visibly pale, a stark contrast against his usually haunty demeanor. It was no secret that he harbored a deep dislike for Esme, but it was also undeniable that everyone present in the room held a level of fear towards her.

As Esme fixed her piercing gaze on Director William, the atmosphere grew tense, the silence accentuating the weight of her words.