Guard of heart

The secretary

POV: ELARA

I stood before Mr. Samuel Wilkins' mansion, my breath catching slightly at the sight. The sprawling estate looked like something straight out of a movie—not just any movie, but one of those billionaire fantasy films where you almost expect the hero to swoop in with a helicopter. Tall, stately pillars framed the grand entrance, and the manicured lawns stretched out so far, you'd think they were trying to compete with the horizon. Every inch of the property screamed wealth and power, as if it weren't just home to a man but to an empire.

The gardens were lush, almost intimidating in their perfection, as though even the flowers had to audition to make the cut. A fountain bubbled softly in the center of the circular driveway, and I half-expected doves to fly out in some cinematic display. I swallowed, straightened my posture, and adjusted the strap of my bag—no pressure, Elara, just starting your new job in a place that looks like it could host royalty. No big deal.

As I approached the entrance, I was met by a line of bodyguards in sharp suits, each nodding politely as if to say, *Welcome to the big leagues.* Their presence was a reminder of just how powerful Mr. Wilkins really was. This wasn't just a house; it was a fortress, designed to protect a man who moved markets with a signature.

Taking a deep breath, I paused outside the doors, glancing down at my bag to ensure everything was in order—files, check; company manual, check; nerves, semi-check. My fingers briefly touched the edge of the manual, which I had practically memorized over the past few days. I knew the names, faces, and locations of nearly everyone at Wilkins Enterprises. I was as prepared as I'd ever be.

The grand double doors swung open, and the interior of the mansion did not disappoint. If I thought the exterior was impressive, the inside was something else entirely. The foyer was vast, its high ceilings adorned with glittering chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds, casting a soft glow over everything. The furniture looked like it had been chosen by a designer with unlimited access to the world's most exclusive collections. Plush chairs, sleek sofas, and art that I probably couldn't afford to glance at for too long without worrying I'd drive up its value. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the walls, offering a breathtaking view of the gardens outside, as if the mansion was saying, *Look at all this, it's mine.*

Before I could fully take it all in, a warm voice cut through my thoughts. "Good morning, ma'am." I turned to see an elderly woman with a kind smile. She had the sort of grace that made her fit right in with the opulence of the mansion. "You must be Ms. Elara Hailsin, the new secretary."

I returned her smile, trying to match her warmth. "Yes, that's me."

"Welcome to the Wilkins mansion," she said, her tone polished yet inviting, as if she had been welcoming people into places like this her entire life. "Mr. Wilkins is in his office on the 4th floor. You can take the elevator up."

"Thank you," I replied, grateful for her gentle manner. As I made my way to the elevator, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the place. It felt less like a house and more like a small country. A really rich, intimidating country.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the fourth floor, feeling the soft hum as the doors closed. That's when the nerves kicked in again. *Okay, Elara, calm down. You've got this. You're just starting your dream job as the private secretary to one of the most powerful business tycoons in the world. No pressure. Just try not to trip over your own feet or accidentally spill coffee on anyone important.*

I let out a slow breath, watching the floor numbers blink by. *Is this elevator going slower than usual, or am I just overthinking everything?* Probably both. My fingers brushed against the file in my bag, feeling the familiar edges. *Maybe I should have brought coffee for Mr. Wilkins... no, wait, he drinks tea. Definitely tea. Ugh, I hope I remembered that correctly. Please let this be one of those rom-com moments where I impress the boss on day one instead of spilling something all over his million-dollar desk.*

The elevator pinged, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. Here we go.

I stepped out and was immediately greeted by a staff member who guided me through a set of glass doors into Mr. Wilkins' office. Walking through the hall felt like entering another universe. Everything was sleek, minimal, and pristine—almost futuristic in its design. The office itself was the epitome of power and control. The walls were adorned with expensive artwork and framed degrees, proof of a lifetime of achievement. At the center of the room was a grand mahogany desk, neat and meticulously organized, with a cup of tea steaming gently next to a stack of polished documents.

Mr. Samuel Wilkins was exactly how I had imagined him—distinguished and imposing, but with a surprisingly kind smile. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly styled, and he had the kind of sharp, knowing eyes that made it clear he missed nothing. As he looked up from his tea, I could feel his gaze measuring me, weighing every move I made.

"Good morning, Ms. Hailsin," he said, his voice deep and commanding yet somehow welcoming at the same time. "Please, have a seat."

I settled into the chair opposite his desk, doing my best to appear calm and collected, even though my heart was still racing from the sheer intensity of the moment.

"Prepared for your first day?" he asked, taking a sip of his tea.

"Yes, absolutely," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "I've reviewed the schedule and am ready for whatever comes my way."

"Good to hear," Mr. Wilkins said with a nod. "You know, I appreciate a well-prepared secretary. It speaks volumes."

*Wow, compliments already? This is either going really well or I'm about to trip over a hidden obstacle.* I smiled, trying to ignore the tiny voice in my head that was convinced I might accidentally knock something over.

After a few minutes of discussing the day's schedule—breakfast, the driver's arrival, morning meetings with shareholders, the midday break, lunch, and the visit to the orphanage—Mr. Wilkins leaned back in his chair and asked with a slight smile, "Ms. Hailsin, do you know why I chose you as my secretary out of the many candidates who applied?"

My mind raced. *Okay, time to impress him. Don't blow it, Elara.*

"I believe you chose me because you saw that I'm eager to learn, that I take my responsibilities seriously, and that I genuinely want to contribute to the company's success," I said, trying to sound confident.

He chuckled softly, the sound warming the room slightly. "Indeed, Ms. Hailsin."

He stood, his movements deliberate and graceful, like someone who had spent years at the top of his game. "If businessmen and their secretaries are heartless, the world will be unbalanced," he added, his tone thoughtful.

I blinked. *Okay, so maybe this isn't a typical rom-com moment. What does that even mean?*

"Please wait downstairs," he said, excusing himself. "I'll be with you shortly after my shower."

As I left his office, I couldn't shake his words. What did he mean by the world being unbalanced? It seemed like such a deep, almost philosophical statement. Was it a test? Was I supposed to understand some hidden meaning? *Is this the part in the movie where the secretary uncovers her boss's secret vulnerability and they bond over some deep conversation?* I thought, heading back down the elevator.