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Chapter Five

Anastasia

Iturn on my heel and walk away before Graham can say anything else, my pulse roaring in my ears. Each step feels heavier than the last, but I don’t look back. I can’t. Not after the way he looked through me like I was nothing more than another cog in his well-oiled machine.

Not after the way he pretended not to know me.

When Brady ushered me into the locker room earlier, I’d told myself I was ready for this. Ready to step into a new role, meet the team, and earn their respect. But seeing him again? I wasn’t prepared for that. I wasn’t prepared for the ice in his voice, the complete lack of recognition in his eyes.

But it’s fine. It has to be.

I push open the door to my new office and let it click shut behind me. My bag drops to the desk with a thud, and I grip the edge of the chair, breathing through the sting of rejection. He didn’t even blink. Just introduced himself like I’m a stranger. Like we didn’t share one unforgettable night in Cape Town.

“Get it together, Ana,” I mutter to myself, shaking out my hands like I can physically rid myself of the frustration crawling under my skin. “He’s your boss now. That’s it. That’s all this is.”

But the tightness in my chest doesn’t ease.

I don’t have long to wallow. A commotion erupts in the hallway, sharp voices echoing off the polished floors. I push my chair back, curiosity pulling me toward the door. The muffled argument grows louder as I step out of the office, and what I see stops me in my tracks.

Graham is standing toe-to-toe with Elias Novak, his shoulders taut and his expression carved from stone. Novak looks smug, his arms crossed, but the glint in his eyes is pure arrogance. Even from where I’m standing, I can see Graham’s jaw clench, the barely restrained fury rippling through him.

“You’re off the team,” Graham says, his voice low but lethal. “Effective immediately.”

I blink, unsure I’ve heard him correctly. Novak’s smirk falters, his posture stiffening. “You can’t be serious.” His posture falters. “You’re gonna regret this, Callahan. You can’t just replace me!”

“Watch me,” Graham bites out, stepping closer, his voice a dangerous growl. “You crossed the line, Novak. You’ve been crossing it for months, and this was the last straw. I don’t care how talented you are. Your behavior is toxic, and I won’t have it poisoning this team.”

Novak’s face twists in anger, his mouth opening to argue, but Graham cuts him off with a sharp motion toward the security guards waiting nearby. “Escort Mr. Novak off the premises. Now.”

The guards close in, and Novak spits out a string of curses as he’s led away.

The hallway falls silent, the air heavy with the weight of what just happened. I’m rooted to the spot, staring at Graham as he rubs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping slightly.

I didn’t expect this.

The Graham I knew—briefly, intimately—was guarded but careful, deliberate in every word and action. The man I just saw was fire and steel, unrelenting in his authority. And though it shouldn’t matter, the way he stood up for me, the way he refused to tolerate Novak’s behavior—it makes something inside me soften.

Before I can think better of it, I step forward. My shoes click against the floor, and his head snaps up, his blue eyes locking onto mine. For the first time today, there’s something real in his expression. Tension, maybe. Guilt. I can’t quite tell.

“How much of that did you see?”

“Enough,” I reply, my tone even.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Look, I⁠—”

“I didn’t need you to do that for me,” I say quietly, my voice steadier than I feel. “But…thank you.”

He exhales sharply, his hand dropping to his side. “It wasn’t just for you. Novak’s been a problem for a while. This was overdue.”

I step closer, softening my expression, studying him. “Still. It means something.”

There’s more he’s not saying, but I don’t push. Instead, I take a step back, offering a small, professional smile.

“Anastasia,” he starts, but whatever he’s about to say doesn’t come out when I level him with a stare.

“It’s Dr. Bellows,” I correct, fighting the insane urge to smile at him.

He doesn’t reply, just watches as I turn and walk away, the weight of his gaze following me down the hall.