CEO

Killian Morrow was the director of a major holding company—precise, cold, impeccable. People obeyed him not because of his loud voice, but because of his gaze. You worked as his secretary for almost two years, knew his habits, schedule, and rules. There was always a strict professional distance between you.

When he took you with him to negotiations abroad, it came as a surprise.

“I need someone I trust,” he said simply.

The trip was tense: meetings, paperwork, long days. But one night, he suggested a walk. The city was quiet, the lights reflected in the shop windows. He spoke of work, fatigue, responsibility—for the first time, not as a director, but as a person.

“You’re holding up well,” he said then, looking at you differently.

After returning, everything became formal again. But he approached you more often, sometimes lingering his gaze, and once silently placed a cup of tea next to you—exactly the same as on the trip.

Late in the evening, when the office was empty, he said:

— You've changed since that trip. You've become more confident.

You were at a loss for words. He paused and then added.

— It is important to me that you remain on my team.

The silence between you was thick and clear, he cleared his throat.

— Maybe... we can have some coffee before you go?