Page 30 of The Secretary Volume II

And then, of course, Gillian.

Ah.

Nowthatwas interesting.

The feed from last night isn’t high quality—Shergar doesn’t exactly like to advertise its deeper surveillance—but it’s enough.Enough to see Ellis’s hand on Gillian’s throat.Enough to see the way he tilts her chin just so, forcing her to look at him.

Enough to see the moment she stops fighting.

I watch it again.And again.

And the third time, I watch her face.

Not her body, not Ellis—justher.The way her expression shifts.The way she blinks, slow and dazed, like something inside her is slipping.

Ellis loves his toys.But this isn’t a toy.This is atest.

I roll my chair back and exhale slowly, reaching for my coffee.It’s cold now, but I sip it anyway, letting the bitter taste settle on my tongue.

He’s making a point.

Tome.

To Gillian.

And now, to Lena.

He’s keeping Gillian close.Not out of nostalgia.Not out of kindness.But because she is living proof of what happens to the ones who forget their place.

And Lena?

She’swatching.

She might not know what she’s seeing yet, but shewill.

And that means I have a decision to make.

Because Lena Blackwell is either going to be useful—or she’s going to be a problem.

Ellis hasn’t decided which yet.

Neither have I.

But I will.

Soon.

16

Lena

The break room coffee machine is having an identity crisis.

It’s spitting out something that smells vaguely like burned dirt, making a sound that’s half mechanical death rattle, half existential cry for help.I’m debating whether I want to risk whatever carcinogens are floating in there when I see her.The same woman as before.

She’s standing by the counter, a yogurt cup in her hands.Not eating.Not scrolling through her phone.Just… staring into space.

Like she’s lost.Like she’s forgotten where she is.

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