The calendar invite disappeared while Eli was staring at it.
9 AM Executive Strategy Session—Conference Room A.
He refreshed the page.
Gone.
He checked his email. No explanation. No reschedule. Just absence where something used to be.
Eli sat at his desk and tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him. Quarterly projections. Data he'd already reviewed twice. Work that didn't need him specifically, just someone with a pulse and basic Excel skills.
Across the floor, through the glass walls of Conference Room A, he could see them gathering.
Eight executives.
An empty chair where he used to sit.
Adrian arrived last, coffee in hand, expression unreadable. He didn't glance toward Eli's desk. Didn't pause. Just walked in and closed the door.
The meeting started without him.
It happened three more times that week.
Calendar invites vanishing.
Meetings he wasn't told about until they were over.
Rooms he used to enter now required clearance he didn't have.
No one said anything. No one had to.
Eli kept his head down and did the work Adrian assigned him. Expense reports. Vendor contracts. Administrative tasks that felt like punishment dressed up as responsibility.
He told himself it was temporary.
A cooling-off period.
Something that would pass once Adrian decided he'd learned his lesson.
But Adrian didn't look at him anymore.
Passed his desk twice a day—morning, evening—and never stopped.
Once, Eli noticed the coffee on Adrian's desk going cold. Untouched. The cup sitting there for hours, dark liquid filming over at the edges.
That had never happened before.
The driver changed on Wednesday.
Eli stepped outside at seven-thirty, expecting the usual black sedan, and found a different car. Different plates. A man he didn't recognize behind the wheel.
"Mr. Park?" the driver said, polite but distant.
Eli hesitated. "Where's—"
"I'll be handling your transportation going forward."
No explanation.
Eli got in.
The ride was silent. Professional. The driver didn't make small talk, didn't adjust the radio. Just drove.
When Eli swiped his badge at the lobby entrance, the light flashed red.
His stomach dropped.
Then green.
The door unlocked.
He stepped through, pulse uneven, and glanced back at the security desk. The guard was watching him. Not hostile. Just... aware.
Someone was paying attention.
Sebastian found him in the break room on Thursday.
Eli was pouring coffee he didn't want, just to have something to do with his hands, when Sebastian appeared in the doorway.
"Hey," Sebastian said. Easy. Warm. Like they were friends.
Eli's grip tightened on the mug. "Hey."
"You okay?"
"Fine."
Sebastian stepped inside, hands in his pockets. He didn't crowd. Didn't push. Just leaned against the counter a few feet away and watched Eli with something that looked like concern.
"You don't look fine."
Eli forced a smile. "Just busy."
"Right." Sebastian's tone was gentle. Understanding. "Look, I know things have been... tense. And I don't want to overstep. But if you need someone to talk to—"
"I'm good."
"Eli." Sebastian's voice softened. "Anyone would read it the way you did."
Eli's throat tightened.
He didn't ask what Sebastian meant. He didn't have to.
"Adrian's protective," Sebastian continued. "I get that. But protection shouldn't feel like punishment."
Eli stared into his coffee. "He's just—"
"Shutting you out?"
Silence.
Sebastian sighed. Pushed off the counter. "I'm grabbing lunch at that place on Fifth. The one with the good sandwiches. If you want to get out of here for an hour, no pressure."
He left before Eli could answer.
Eli stood there, alone, holding a mug of coffee that had gone lukewarm in his hands.
He went.
He told himself it was just lunch.
Neutral ground. Public space. Nothing that could be misread.
Sebastian was already there when Eli arrived, sitting at a corner table with two sandwiches and two drinks. He smiled when he saw Eli, but it wasn't smug. Just... relieved.
"Wasn't sure you'd come," Sebastian said.
Eli sat. "I needed air."
"Fair."
They ate in silence for a few minutes. The restaurant was busy—office workers on break, the hum of conversation filling the space. It felt normal. Safe.
Sebastian didn't ask questions. Didn't pry. Just ate his sandwich and made occasional comments about the food, the weather, nothing that required a real answer.
Finally, Eli spoke.
"Do you ever feel like you're saying the wrong thing?" he asked quietly. "Like... you rehearse it in your head, and it sounds fine, but then it comes out wrong anyway?"
Sebastian looked at him. Really looked.
"Yeah," he said. "All the time."
Eli's chest loosened slightly.
"I used to practice my voicemail greetings," Sebastian continued, voice soft. "Over and over. Because I was afraid I'd sound—I don't know. Wrong. Like people would hear me and know I didn't belong."
Eli's breath caught.
Sebastian smiled, but it was sad. "You're not the only one who feels like that."
"Adrian doesn't—"
"Adrian forgot what it's like." Sebastian's tone wasn't bitter. Just factual. "He's been here too long. He doesn't remember what it's like to be the person who doesn't know which fork to use."
Eli looked away.
"I'm not saying he's a bad person," Sebastian added quickly. "I'm just saying... he doesn't see it anymore. And that's not your fault."
Eli's throat burned.
He wanted to argue. To defend Adrian. To say that Adrian did see him, did understand.
But Adrian hadn't looked at him in four days.
Adrian found out.
Eli didn't know how. Maybe someone saw them. Maybe Sebastian mentioned it. Maybe Adrian just knew.
But that afternoon, when Eli returned to his desk, Adrian was waiting.
He didn't sit. Didn't come inside Eli's cubicle. Just stood in the walkway, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
"We need to—"
Adrian's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen. Answered without hesitation.
"Yes." Pause. "I'll be there in five."
He hung up.
Looked at Eli.
"Later," Adrian said.
Then he was gone.
Eli sat there, staring at the empty space where Adrian had been, and felt something crack inside his chest.
Later never came.
The meeting happened on Friday.
Quarterly review. Eli wasn't supposed to be there, but someone—he didn't know who—added him back to the invite at the last minute.
He sat at the far end of the table, quiet, trying not to draw attention.
Adrian ran the meeting with his usual precision. Calm. Controlled. Every word deliberate.
Halfway through, one of the executives turned to Eli.
"Mr. Park, you've been working on the vendor contracts. Any concerns we should flag?"
Eli opened his mouth.
"That's being handled internally," Adrian said before Eli could speak. His tone was smooth. Professional. "Mr. Park's been assisting with administrative oversight, but strategic decisions will route through my office."
The executive nodded and moved on.
Eli felt his face heat.
Across the table, Sebastian's eyes flickered. Not pleased. Not surprised.
Just... calculating.
Eli went home that night and sat in the dark.
He pulled Sebastian's card from his wallet. Stared at the number.
Considered calling.
Didn't.
Instead, he opened his phone and recorded a voicemail he'd never send.
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," he said quietly, voice rough. "I thought—I thought if I just worked hard enough, if I proved I could handle it, you'd—"
He stopped.
Deleted it.
Started over.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For whatever I did. I'm sorry."
He saved it in his drafts and set the phone down.
Outside, the city glittered. Endless. Indifferent.
Eli closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to be wanted.
The email arrived Monday morning.
Subject: Carmichael Account - Confidential Breach
Eli's stomach dropped.
He opened it.
Internal audit has identified a leak of sensitive information regarding the Carmichael acquisition. The breach occurred between March 10-14. All personnel with access during that window are being reviewed.
Eli's hands went cold.
March 10-14.
The week he'd been in those meetings.
The week he'd talked to Sebastian.
He scrolled down.
Preliminary findings suggest the leak originated from executive briefing materials. Investigation ongoing.
Eli's breath stopped.
He hadn't leaked anything.
He hadn't—
But he'd been there.
He'd had access.
And now that access was gone.
His phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
They're going to blame you. You know that, right?
Eli stared at the screen.
His throat burned.
Another text.
*I can help. If you let me.*
Eli set the phone down.
His hands were shaking.
Across the floor, through the glass walls of Adrian's office, he could see Adrian on a call. Jaw tight. Expression hard.
Adrian glanced up.
Their eyes met.
Adrian looked away first.
Eli's chest hollowed out.
Protection had turned into suspicion.
And he didn't know how to prove he was innocent.