chapter215

Thalassa stood in the center of the office, the faint scent of fresh laundry and morning routine lingering about her. She had spent the early hours tending to her four children, and even in this high-pressure environment, she carried that sense of grounded responsibility with her.

Lysander observed her for a moment before shifting his focus to a document on his desk. He extended a folder toward her. "Starting today, your assignment with the janitorial department is concluded. You are being transferred to the secretarial suite."

Thalassa froze, her mind racing. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Lysander replied, his voice calm and decisive. "I’ve reviewed your file. Your academic background in design and administration is a direct match for the current needs of my personal office. Effective immediately, you are the President’s Personal Secretary."

Thalassa’s eyes scanned the transfer notice. The shift was monumental—from maintaining the building to managing the nerve center of the Sinclair Group. The salary associated with the role was substantial, offering a level of financial stability she had only dreamed of.

"Mr. Sinclair," Thalassa began, her voice cautious. "While I am grateful, I have to ask... is this truly appropriate? I don't have the final diploma, and my presence in this role will undoubtedly cause speculation among the staff."

Lysander looked up, his gaze piercing. "I am not in the habit of making decisions based on office gossip. I am making this decision based on your demonstrated competence and the specific requirements of this department. You have the skills; what you lack is the platform."

Thalassa hesitated. It wasn't a lack of confidence in her own ability—she knew she was capable. She had been turned down by dozens of companies because of her incomplete degree, forced into manual labor just to ensure her children were fed. This was the chance she had been waiting for, yet the suddenness of it felt like a weight she wasn't prepared to carry.

"I cannot accept a position out of a sense of... obligation or charity," she said firmly. "If this is about the incident from years ago, or a sense of responsibility toward my current situation, then I’d rather resign."

"Resignation is not an option under your current contract," Lysander countered, his tone hardening into that of a seasoned CEO. "You signed an agreement with the Sinclair Group that includes a specific term for training and transition. If you exit unilaterally, the liquidated damages for the breach of contract would be twenty thousand dollars."

Thalassa felt her breath catch. Twenty thousand dollars. It was a staggering amount—far beyond her reach.

"The choice is yours, Thalassa," Lysander continued, leaning back in his chair. "You can view this as a cage, or you can view it as the professional leverage you need to clear your debts and build a future for your family. I am giving you a chance to prove you are more than the labels society has placed on you."

Thalassa looked at the contract on the desk. She thought of the car tire she still needed to pay off, the upcoming winter needs for her children, and the four little faces that relied on her strength. This was her path out of the shadows.

She straightened her shoulders, her eyes meeting his with a newfound clarity. "I will sign the contract. Not because of the penalty, Mr. Sinclair, but because I intend to show you—and this company—exactly what I am capable of."