Chapter 5 Collision Of Worlds

• Long shadows were thrown over the shiny floors as the morning light streamed through Whitaker Architecture's tall windows. Clara walked in slowly, holding her luggage close as she adapted to the fast-paced workplace environment. Whispers and efficiency filled the air. A few colleagues gave her a sidelong glance, their smirks piercing.
• One of them whispered to himself, "Fresh meat." A woman with neatly combed hair leaned over and laughed. "We'll have to see how long she stays."
• Clara swallowed her annoyance and continued to look straight ahead. She was come to prove herself, not to make friends. However, the antagonistic environment was like to entering a wolf lair, where the eyes were blazing with condemnation.
• She hardly had time to get comfortable at her desk before Evelyn Marlowe walked up, her heels clicking with military accuracy. She dropped a heavy pile of folders over Clara's desk, causing her to recoil.
• Evelyn snapped, "Miss Hawthorne, we don't do hand-holding here." "You're either gone or you're competent."
• Clara stood up. "I get it."
• Evelyn had a slender, icy smile. "All right. These proposals must be completed by the end of the day. No justifications.
• Clara felt sick to her stomach when she opened the files and saw how much work there was. It was sabotage. It seems like every deadline was set out to overwhelm her. Nevertheless, she tightened her jaw and began working.
• Her concentration improved as the hours passed, and she made notes with fluent pencil strokes. The hum of resolve took the place of the voices as they faded into the background.
• A voice cut in, "Miss Hawthorne." Ethan Whitaker was standing a few steps away, his face unreadable, when Clara looked up.
• "Now, my office."
• She stood with a pounding heart and slightly shaking hands. The wolves were observing, their grins now showing signs of interest. She was aware that whatever was waiting for her in Ethan's office would either confirm her position here or force her to leave.
• With a gentle click, the door to Ethan's office closed, enclosing Clara in the oppressive quiet. As Ethan motioned for her to sit, the dark wood-lined walls with contemporary artwork appeared to close in.
• "You've been given a lot of assignments," he said in a neutral yet direct tone. "Are you sure you can manage it?"
• With her heart pounding in her ears, Clara looked him in the eye. "Yes, I do."
• His eyes narrowed as he leaned back. "Being confident does not equate to being capable. Why should I entrust anything significant to you?
• Clara's fingers clenched around her chair's armrest. "Because when things get tough, I don't give up," she stated calmly. "I solve problems."
• In spite of himself, Ethan arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Solutions," he said again. "How about we test that?"
• He moved a file in her direction across the desk. "This project is crucial. Determine the problem and suggest a solution. You have ten minutes.
• Glancing over the schematics, Clara opened the file. It was a challenging structural issue that called for accuracy and fast thought. Breathing deeply, she forced the strain out of her mind and started drawing.
• She shoved the file back toward him a few minutes later. Ethan's expression was unreadable as he observed her work. Before he eventually spoke, there was a long period of silence.
• Intriguing, he whispered. "You took care of the structural problem, but you neglected to take cost effectiveness into consideration."
• Clara bent over. The structural integrity is more significant in this regard. The cost of a collapse would be far higher.
• A slight smile pulled at Ethan's lips for the first time. He leaned back and closed the file. "You make a valid point. But, Miss Hawthorne, this isn't praise. This is a warning: you must keep up or risk being eliminated.
• Ethan observed with a chuckle that turned to reflection as Clara walked out of his office, her head held high in spite of the uncertainty.
• The afternoon flew by with hurried conversations and deadlines. Clara ignored the scathing glances from her colleagues as she immersed herself in her job. But as a new person walked up to her desk, she lost concentration.
• "Is it, Clara?" Gabrielle Richards had a polished voice that exuded charm from practice. She exuded effortless sophistication with her black hair and keen features.
• Clara gave a cautious nod. "Yes."
• Although it didn't reach her eyes, Gabrielle grinned. I am Ethan's cousin, Gabrielle. Whitaker Architecture welcomes you. You appear to be... unusual.
• "Different?" Clara inquired in a neutral tone.
• Gabrielle gave a small laugh. "New. Really, it's refreshing. See how long you can last.
• Despite her stiffness, Clara forced a grin. "Thank you for the confidence vote."
• Gabrielle dropped her voice and leaned closer. "This place isn't forgiving," you'll discover. Tell me if you need assistance navigating it.
• Clara said, "Thank you," despite her gut telling her not to be trusted.
• Clara discovered a serious error in a report Gabrielle had turned in later that night while going over one of her assignments. Clara sent Evelyn her findings, pointing out the mistake. Gabrielle's polished mask momentarily slipped as she learned.
• Gabrielle's voice was tense as she added, "Well played." However, don't believe you've won anything. You have no idea what you're up against here.
• Clara shuddered at what she said, but she didn't back down. She would take on whatever games that were being played.
• The Whitaker Architecture office was covered in lengthy shadows from the afternoon sun, which softened the sharp lines of the contemporary décor with its golden glow. Clara was working on her most recent project, making adjustments to a design for an impending pitch while her pencil scratched the paper. It wasn't until his voice pierced the silence that she realized the stranger had come closer.
• With a kind and inquisitive tone, he remarked, "You must be Clara Hawthorne."
• Clara looked up, startled, and saw a man in his late forties, smiling easily and exuding a peaceful confidence. Although his sharp gray suit was expertly fitted, she felt calmed by the tenderness in his eyes.
• Clara said, "I am," putting down her pencil. "Are you, too?"
• He held out a hand and said, "Nathaniel Sterling." Ethan's old acquaintance. I manage a few of the business's strategic initiatives.
• Intrigued, Clara shook his hand. "I'm glad to have met you."
• Nathaniel pointed at the chair across from her workstation. "Do you mind if I sit?"
• Uncertain of his intention, she nodded. With a contemplative gaze, Nathaniel reclined back. He started off by carefully selecting his words, "Ethan can be... difficult." However, he sees potential if he pushes you hard. Don't be upset about it.
• The realization startled Clara, and she blinked. "You mean that this isn't always how he is?"
• Nathaniel laughed. "Not always. Though I'm sure he would sooner die than acknowledge that, he has his reasons.
• Clara's eyes flashed with curiosity. "For what reasons?"
• Nathaniel paused, his grin dimming a bit. To put it mildly, his past isn't as spotless as this office. He is more important than most people think.
• Clara's curiosity was only heightened by the cryptic response. "You're saying that he's not as human as he seems?"
• With a detached expression, Nathaniel nodded. "Exactly. But, Clara, be careful. He makes it difficult for others to enter.
• Nathaniel got up before Clara could push any more. "Best of luck," he murmured, glaring at her. "You'll require it."
• Clara's mind was racing with questions as he left. She was desperate to find out what load Ethan was carrying.
• Clara stayed late to complete her work, and the office was oddly silent. Her work area was illuminated by the light from her desk lamp, but the rest of the floor was dark. After hours of struggle, her focus waned as she stretched her aching back.
• She turned to hear a muffled voice. The faint sound of Ethan's tense remarks filtered through the closed door as she turned to look at his office.
• Ethan remarked, his voice piercing with annoyance, "I will no longer allow him to govern my life." "I made this choice, not him."
• Clara scowled as his tone struck a chord with its unadulterated intensity. She drew forward, hiding in the darkness while she listened for more.
• Ethan went on, "You don't understand." "This is about everything, not just the business."
• A long sigh was heard after a moment. "I'll take care of it. Simply said, don't get in touch with me again until absolutely required.
• There was a tense silence after the call ended. Clara paused, unsure whether to go back to her desk or stay and take in what she had heard. But when Ethan opened the door, she knew what she had to do.
• Immediately, his dark eyes met hers, and his face hardened. His voice was as frigid as ice as he said, "Miss Hawthorne." "Are you a habitual eavesdropper?"
• He held up a hand as Clara opened her mouth to explain. "Don't waste your time. Forget what you believe you heard. And keep your mouth shut the next time.
• Even if the warning hurt, Clara didn't back down. "I didn't mean to "
• Ethan cut in with a low, menacing voice, "Enough." "Clara, go home."
• With her heart racing, she took a step back and retreated to her desk. Ethan's jaw clenched in exasperation as he watched her leave. The stiffness in his posture refused to go away as he went back to his office after she was out of sight.
• As she collected her belongings, Clara's thoughts were racing with the knowledge that Ethan's problems were much more dangerous and personal than she had initially thought.