Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Rachel
"Matteo, I already told you—I'm going back to Sea Breeze." I shook my head. "I have to keep an eye on the renovations."
"The kitchen hasn't been fixed yet, the wiring is still under inspection, and the warehouse locks were only changed today. Are you planning to pull an all-nighter with the construction crew or lecture the broken security cameras about safety?"
"But..."
"I'll have people take over the diner and the house. The accounts will be sent to you every week, and you'll make the big decisions. Besides, Rachel, I need you."
Matteo spoke with genuine seriousness, but his words left me stunned. Matteo needs me?
"The cross-border acquisition's admin and data streams are still a mess.
The materials are scattered, the timeline is chaotic, and it's tied up with several departments.
" Matteo handed me a folder. "I don't have time to babysit the details, and no one else is meticulous enough.
You've always handled this stuff, and I've never had to worry about it.
So, I want you back at the company as soon as possible. "
Seeing that I hadn't immediately agreed, he suddenly asked, "What? Are you scared?"
"I'm not."
"Then come back to work." He reached over and gently tugged my slipping scarf back into place. "You need to stay busy, or you'll just keep staring at the door all day."
I looked at him, momentarily speechless. My eyes grew hot, but something in my chest felt like it had been softly nudged.
"Okay. I'll go back."
"That's my girl."
The next morning, I returned to the company.
The elevator climbed all the way to the forty-eighth floor. My desk was still there, but it was buried under piles of files and sticky notes that had been rerouted to me during my absence—there was barely any space left to work.
I hadn't even had time to organize anything when someone called my name.
"Miss Kane." I turned around to see Cynthia, the chief secretary, walking toward me, arms full of folders, her smile polite but professional.
"Welcome back." She handed me the top file. "Mr. Vitale asked me to tell you to come to Conference Room Two before ten. He wants to see the first draft of your project summary."
"Starting right now?"
"It's already late." Cynthia gave me a small nod. "This is important."
I carried the files back to my desk and sat down.
The moment I opened the first page, I knew Matteo hadn't been exaggerating.
The cross-border acquisition involved far more departments than I'd imagined—admin, HR, legal, investor relations, even overseas branch approvals were bottlenecked.
The information was messy, the formats inconsistent, and some meeting minutes were missing critical pages.
It looked like a drawer full of tangled old cables.
I barely lifted my head all day—sorting documents, re-categorizing, filling in timelines, setting priorities, and double-checking data standards with every department. I barely ate lunch, and the next few days were the same.
I gradually fell back into that familiar rhythm, like gears slowly clicking back into place.
By the second week's project meeting, I had turned the chaotic mess that no one wanted to touch into a clear, complete executive summary.
I'd even flagged the critical delays from the overseas team.
Thanks to my detailed work, the company avoided a significant loss.
Matteo gave me two days off. When I returned, my old desk had been cleared out. All that remained was a huge bird-of-paradise plant. Cynthia handed me a set of brass keys.
"Miss Kane," she said with a warm smile, "please come with me."
Surprised, I still stood up and followed her. She led me to the dark wooden door right next to Matteo's office. The nameplate had just been replaced, its edges still gleaming with fresh polish. My name was cleanly engraved on it: R. Kane.
"Congratulations, Rachel." Cynthia's smile was sincere. "Mr. Vitale said this office is yours starting today."
"This is... my office?"
"Yes." Cynthia winked. "Your data work was excellent, wasn't it?"
I took the keys, my heartbeat suddenly uneven.
When I pushed the door open, a faint floral scent greeted me.
The office wasn't huge, but it was quiet and peaceful.
The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of all of Manhattan.
A wide cherry-wood desk sat neatly arranged, dual monitors already set up, and in the corner was the Italian espresso machine I loved most.
On the corner of the desk stood a bouquet of pure white lilies of the valley. The stems were perfectly trimmed, the petals still carrying a hint of moisture. Their cool, delicate fragrance drifted quietly through the air. I didn't need to ask—I knew exactly who had sent them.
I walked over, gently touched a petal, then shifted the vase slightly to the side. I sat down in my new chair, turned on the computer, and opened the files.
When I stepped into the break room later, I heard Amy's excited voice from across the room.
"Rachel! Oh my God, you're really back! I didn't believe them when they told me!"
She hurried over and gave me a fierce hug, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe.
"I thought you'd really quit! With all those rumors flying around the company lately, ugh..."
"It's all in the past now." I hugged her back and patted her gently.
"Really?" She pulled away, looking me up and down with concern. Her gaze landed on the faint scar near my temple. "I heard... something happened at your place. Are you okay?"
"It's been handled." I didn't want to dwell on the ugly details.
Amy didn't press further. Instead, she pulled me aside and lowered her voice, her expression uneasy.
"Good thing you're back. But... you should still be careful.
Even though Matteo warned everyone in a meeting, no one dares to mess with you openly.
Samantha definitely won't let it go easily.
I heard her engagement fell through, and she's been walking around with a permanent scowl. She's made several new interns cry."
I nodded, about to reply, when someone called out to me.
It was Samantha. Her makeup was still flawless, but exhaustion was clear on her face.
"Rachel, can I have a word with you?"
Amy's expression tightened instantly. She stepped forward as if to shield me.
"What, you've got a guard dog for an assistant now?"
Amy's face flushed red, and she opened her mouth to snap back. I pressed her arm and shook my head gently.
"It's fine, Amy." I patted her hand. "Go ahead. I can handle this."
Amy shot Samantha a fierce glare before grabbing her coffee and leaving the break room. Once she was gone, Samantha snorted coldly, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her.
She took a deep breath, slowly lowered her head, and said, "I'm here to apologize."
I was stunned. In all the time I'd known Samantha, I had never heard her speak to anyone in that tone. Before I could respond, she lifted her head, closed her eyes for a moment, then continued.
"About the rumors in the company, that was my fault. But I never expected them to spread like that. As for what happened at your restaurant—that wasn't my intention."
"It was a few of my friends. They misunderstood, and seeing how close you and Matteo are, they acted impulsively without telling me. I already gave them a good scolding when I found out."
She sounded sincere, yet she neatly shifted all the blame, painting herself as the innocent victim.
"It's all behind us now, Samantha." I didn't want to drag this out.
She seemed surprised by how easily I let it go. After a brief pause, visible relief washed over her face.
"Thank you, Rachel. I knew you'd be understanding. By the way, the only reason I'm still here is that someone put in a good word for me—never mind, I shouldn't be saying that. Anyway, keep up the good work. We're still friends."
I went to refill my coffee, but my mind kept replaying Samantha's words.
"The coffee's about to overflow." A hand took the cup from me—it was Matteo.
He had appeared beside me at some point. A few female employees were peeking curiously from the doorway. I instinctively tried to step back, but the wall was right behind me.
"Why aren't you in your office?"
"I... just came out for some air."
Before I could finish, he casually handed the cup back to me.
"Does the wound on your forehead still hurt?"
"It's... already healed." My ears started burning uncontrollably.
"Does the new office need anything?"
"No, it's fine."
He fired off questions in quick succession—natural, almost intimate. I stumbled over my answers, unsure what to say. But the warmth of the coffee cup in my palm eased the tightness in my chest.
Matteo extended his hand. "Come with me."
Before I could react, he had already led me out of the break room. At the end of the corridor, the private black elevator waited. He swiped his card, and the doors opened silently.
"From now on, you use this one."
He pulled a keycard from his pocket and placed it directly in my palm.
"Isn't this your private elevator?"
"It is. Now it's yours too. Saves you from squeezing in with everyone else every day, and it keeps people from gossiping in your ear. Also, I've revoked Samantha's access to the 48th floor. She won't come bothering you here anymore."
I gripped the card tightly, my throat suddenly tight. "Thank you," I said softly.
He chuckled quietly. As the elevator doors opened again, he placed a supportive hand on my lower back. "Go on. There's still a lot to do today."
By evening, most people had left the office. I was packing up to go home when the door to my office was pushed open. Matteo walked in, carrying a thick stack of documents, and set them on my desk.
"There are issues with the data in this summary," he said, sounding tired. "It needs to be checked tonight—the board video conference is tomorrow morning. George will send dinner over."