Ghost of the Lecture hall

Liam Valerio sat in his office, fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his espresso cup. The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting gold across the minimalist desk and bookshelves lined with industry awards and leather-bound reports. It was quiet—his kind of quiet—where the world slowed enough for thoughts to surface.

And this morning, all his thoughts had one thing in common:

Elira Cruz.

She hadn’t changed much since college.

Her hair was a little longer now, her frame slightly leaner, the shadows beneath her eyes a touch deeper—but it was her. The same girl who used to sit two rows ahead of him in Business Communication, tapping her pencil against her notebook like a metronome. Always focused. Always late, always breathless, always alone.

Liam had noticed her the first week of freshman year. Not because she spoke up or stood out—but because she didn’t. She melted into the background, kept her head down, and moved like the world was made of landmines. Yet there was something about the way she moved through her struggle with grace that made her unforgettable.

And now here she was.

Sitting just outside his office.

With no memory of him whatsoever.

A sharp knock on the glass interrupted his thoughts. The door opened a second later, and Elira peeked in with a notebook in hand.

“Good morning, sir—I mean, Liam.” She looked like she winced internally, her fingers gripping the notepad tighter. “You have a call with the board in twenty minutes. I’ve printed the brief you asked for. Also, your breakfast is arriving in five. I hope you’re okay with turkey bacon?”

He blinked. “You ordered me breakfast?”

“You said yesterday you had tunnel vision and forgot to eat, and I thought—well—sorry. I probably overstepped.”

A slow smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. “No. You didn’t. That was thoughtful, Elira.”

Her eyes widened just slightly, like she wasn’t used to praise. She nodded and backed out of the room, cheeks tinged pink. The door clicked softly shut behind her.

Liam leaned back in his chair, unable to suppress the grin that crept up.

She hadn’t changed.

Not really.

---

Outside, Elira returned to her desk, face burning.

What was wrong with her?

He was just being nice. Just… human. That smile probably meant nothing. CEOs smiled at their staff all the time. She was imagining things. It didn’t mean he liked her. It didn’t mean he remembered her—

Wait. Remember her?

She scoffed at herself. As if.

Back in college, she was a ghost. Nobody remembered the girl who sat in the corners and lived off instant noodles. She was invisible by design. She had to be. Being visible meant being vulnerable, and she’d learned early on how dangerous that was.

Her phone buzzed with a message from reception: Vivienne Aragon is here to see Mr. Valerio.

Elira frowned. The name wasn’t on today’s calendar.

She picked up the intercom and buzzed his line. “Liam? A Miss Vivienne Aragon is here. No appointment.”

There was a pause before his reply. “Send her in.”

Curious, Elira stood to escort the woman in personally, and when she saw her, she immediately understood why Liam hadn’t said more.

Vivienne was stunning.

Tall, poised, wrapped in a blood-red pantsuit that screamed confidence and chaos all at once. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and she wore stilettos that looked better suited for a fashion runway than an office.

“Mr. Valerio is expecting you,” Elira said, keeping her tone polite and professional.

Vivienne offered her a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “You must be the new girl. Adorable. I can see why he’s smiling again.”

Elira blinked. “Excuse me?”

But Vivienne had already brushed past her like a gust of perfume and poison.

Elira sat back down at her desk, trying not to stare at the glass office, where Vivienne was now leaning dramatically on Liam’s desk. Whatever conversation was happening, it was clearly not about spreadsheets.

---

Inside the office, Liam stood with his arms crossed, his expression guarded.

“Vivienne,” he said evenly, “I didn’t know you were back in the country.”

“Surprise,” she replied, running a finger along the edge of a crystal paperweight. “You always liked surprises.”

“I don’t recall liking you throwing them without warning.”

She laughed, the sound hollow. “Still sharp. Still bitter.” Her eyes flicked toward the door. “So… the new secretary. She's cute. A little plain, but that seems to be your type these days.”

Liam didn’t respond.

Vivienne took a step closer. “I’m back for good, Liam. And I want back in. The company. The… arrangements. Us.”

“There’s no ‘us,’ Vivienne.”

She arched an eyebrow. “There could be. If you stopped pretending you’re over me.”

“I’m not pretending.” His voice was like steel now. “And this conversation is over.”

Vivienne’s smile faltered for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “You’ll change your mind.”

With that, she turned and sauntered out of the office, brushing past Elira without another word.

Liam stood at the window, his reflection barely visible in the glass.

He should’ve blocked her number years ago.

---

Back at her desk, Elira tried to focus on her spreadsheet, but her mind kept drifting to the way Vivienne looked at her—as if she were some fly on the wall, barely worth noticing. That woman had history with Liam. She could tell.

And if she were smart, she’d stay out of it.

But for some reason, her chest felt tight, and her brain wouldn’t stop replaying that smug smile.

Elira wasn’t here to get involved in anything other than work.

She had come too far to get distracted now.

But even as she told herself that, she couldn’t help but glance toward the door again… and wonder.

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