HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 48: Not Impossible, Monumental

To distract myself from the mess at home, I throw myself fully into my work. I push hard, working through lunch at my desk and skipping all breaks except quick bathroom runs.

Eventually, my efforts start to pay off when even Lila acknowledges my work. "I have to admit, I didn't expect much from you," she says, eyeing me with something close to respect. "But these research reviews you've been giving me are both thorough and insightful. I never thought you had it in you to explore the concept like this."

It's a backhanded compliment if I've ever heard one, but I stay quiet. Any kind of praise from Lila feels like a small victory.

Lila places my work back on her desk and then leans back, studying me like she's truly seeing me for the first time. She's clearly waiting for a response, so I simply say, "Thank you."

She shrugs. "You must be a workaholic."

That's not entirely accurate. I've never shied away from hard work, but considering how inconsistent my job history has been, I wouldn't describe myself as a workaholic.

"I want to prove myself," I say. It's the truth—there's so much at stake, both for others and for me.

"It's unexpected," Lila continues, "but it's refreshing to see a temp pushing so hard."

"Temp?" I echo, confused. I knew I was in a probationary period, but I assumed it came with the possibility of securing a permanent spot once I proved myself. Lila makes it sound like that was never the plan.

"Of course," she says, her tone almost pitying. "With your lack of experience, did you honestly think you were hired for anything permanent?" Her gaze sharpens as she adds, "Oh, you poor thing. You really did think that, didn't you?"

I can't deny it. The truth is plain on my face, and she knows it. But I'm not ready to give up so easily. I've put too much into this job to be dismissed as expendable.

"There has to be a way for me to secure a permanent position," I insist. "Tell me what it is, and I'll prove I'm capable."

"We never needed another reporter. When Vincent brought you on, it was a shock to all of us. I admit, you've shown talent, Rafha, and that could take you far—just not here. For you to stay, you'd need to pull off something monumental."

"If I secure an interview with Sandro Marcos, would that count?" I ask, throwing out the one goal I've been silently working toward.

She laughs, a dismissive sound. "Sandro Marcos? You really think that's possible? We've all tried."

"It's not impossible," I say, meeting her gaze. "But it is monumental."

Lila's smile fades as she studies me. "Are you serious?"

"I am," I reply firmly.

She considers this, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "If you could pull that off, you'd earn more than just respect—you'd likely secure a place here. Vincent would be all in, but he's not the only one you need to convince."

"Who else?"

"Me, for one," she says with a cool smile. "There are several editors here. Even if Vincent has the final say, any of us could tell him you're not right for this company and just like that—" She snaps her fingers. "You'd be out."

She's trying to intimidate me, hoping I'll back down. I can tell she's comfortable with the current dynamics and doesn't want a newcomer shaking things up. It hasn't escaped my notice that she's been taking credit for much of my research lately.

I don't mind sharing credit as a trainee, but it stings knowing she's happy to use my work while waiting for me to fail.

"But," she adds, "an interview with Sandro Marcos could sway a lot of the editors. We've been after him for ages. If you could land it, you'd definitely make a name for yourself... if you can actually pull it off."

"If that's what it takes to secure my spot, then I'll do it," I declare.

Let them doubt me. They have no idea how stubborn I can be when I set my mind to something. I will see this through.

Lila shrugs. "Good luck, then." She waves me out dismissively.

Outside her office, Ash is leaning against the wall, clearly eavesdropping. She doesn't even pretend otherwise. When I glance at her, she just smirks.

"The bosses are giving you three weeks," Ash says mockingly. "I bet you won't even last one."

I'm tempted to bet her, confident I'll make it at least another week. But Ash opinion is low on my list of priorities. She's only slightly relevant because of her friendship with Sandro. Otherwise, I wouldn't care at all.

"I'm going to my desk now," I say calmly, "unless you want to keep tagging along behind me."

Her expression darkens. "Sandro will never give you that interview, no matter how much you beg."

I keep walking, and sure enough, Ash trails behind. "He pities you," she continues, "like the rest of us do because of your lousy situation. But he'd never compromise his principles for you."

"Are you warning me because you want to prepare me for failure," I ask over my shoulder, "or because you're scared I might be the one to change his mind?"

Ash face contorts in anger. "As if! I'm his childhood friend, and he's been telling me no for months."

"Have you asked him why?"

"That's none of your damn business," she snaps.

At my desk, I pull out my chair and sit down, ignoring her. I wake up my computer and resume my research. A photo of Sandro appears on the screen, catching Ash attention. She scoffs.

"You've got a crush," she says, sounding almost triumphant. "It's clouding your judgment. Sandro is nice to everyone, but if you push him too far, you'll see his claws come out. He's polite, but everyone has a limit."

It sounds more like she's talking about herself than Sandro.

"Leave him alone, Rafha," she warns, "or I'll step in to defend what's mine."

"If and when he tells me to back off, I will," I reply. "But he hasn't yet."

"He will," she says with venom. "And when he does, I'll laugh about it until the day I die."