The morning dragged on lazily.
Warm sunlight streamed through the blinds, cutting Kael's office into pale stripes. The faint aroma of coffee lingered in the air, blending with the sharper scent of paper and ink. The workday had already begun hours ago, yet Kael, slouched in his chair, still couldn't bring himself to focus.
He tossed his pen aside, laced his fingers together, and rubbed his face slowly. His gaze flicked to the clock—10 a.m. Already.
There was plenty to do. His task list glowed on the monitor, a stack of documents awaited his signature. But today, none of it seemed important. His mind drifted beyond the walls of his office, past the closed door, to the desk on the other side.
To her.
Auren.
He hadn't seen much of her that morning. Only heard her voice in the reception area, not once catching her eyes. And now the absence gnawed at him—strange, unwelcome, unfamiliar.
Kael tapped his fingers on the desk, glaring at the door. The thought of her being so close yet out of sight was maddening. His coffee had long since cooled, and he realized he wanted a fresh cup—not so much for the taste, but for the excuse to call her in.
A wry smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head.
"What nonsense..." he muttered, yet his hand was already reaching for the call button.
"Auren, come in for a moment."
A light knock broke the silence of the spacious office a minute later. Keeping his eyes on the papers before him, pretending to be immersed, Kael said curtly:
"Come in."
The door opened without a sound, and Auren stepped inside with quiet confidence. He felt the shift instantly—the way the air seemed to change when she entered. Though his gaze remained on the documents, a flicker of tension betrayed him. When she reached his desk, his eyes finally lifted, locking with hers.
"You called me, boss?" she asked lightly, tilting her head with a playful smile.
For a moment, Kael studied her too intently, then leaned back in his chair with lazy ease.
"A secretary should always be close at hand, shouldn't she?"
Auren folded her arms and stepped forward.
"Don't you already have a call button? Or do you simply like having me come in?"
Amusement sparked in his eyes, though he hid it quickly behind a mask of composure.
"You're far too confident."
"And you're far too predictable," she shot back with an easy smile. The words weren't random—she'd used the exact same phrase yesterday. Maybe it would become her signature retort.
Kael rose from his chair, circled the desk, and closed the distance between them.
"So now you can predict my moves?"
"Of course," she shrugged as if it were the simplest truth. "For instance, right about now you're going to say you want coffee."
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.
"If you can read my cravings that well, maybe you should be more than a secretary—perhaps my personal barista?"
Auren shook her head, feigning reproach.
"Do you breakfast on audacity, boss? Should I serve it to you on my knees, too?"
His smirk deepened, clearly savoring the duel.
"No, but I do like it when you play at being bold."
Leaning in just slightly, she lowered her voice to a whisper.
"This isn't a game."
With that, Auren turned and headed for the door. Her hand had just brushed the cold metal handle when his calm, deliberate voice called after her:
"Oh, and bring me last month's report as well."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips.
"As you say, boss."
As the door clicked shut behind her, she could still feel his gaze trailing after her.
***
Auren stepped confidently into the office, carrying a tray with coffee and a folder of reports. She thought it would take no more than a minute—set down the cup, hand over the documents, and leave. But the moment the door clicked shut behind her, she sensed she wouldn't be getting out so easily.
Kael sat in his chair, fingers drumming absently against the desk. He lifted his eyes to her, and this time there was no trace of his usual mocking glint. His gaze was different. Deeper. Longer.
"Your coffee," Auren said evenly, placing the cup on the table.
"And the report," he reminded her, still holding her in his stare.
She offered him the folder, but Kael didn't reach for it. Instead, he rose, circled the desk, and began to close the distance one step at a time. Auren didn't move—not an inch. She didn't back away, even when his shadow fell across her face. Her eyes locked on his, defiant, stubborn, just as he had come to expect.
"Dangerous, Auren," his voice dropped low, rough, almost a whisper as he closed in further.
"For whom?" she lifted her chin, her gaze sharp though her breathing faltered.
"For both of us." His lips curved faintly, eyes lingering on hers—then lower, to her mouth, for a beat too long. "Though I can't say I see that as a bad thing."
She narrowed her eyes, studying him, trying to decide whether this was another of his maneuvers or something more.
"You mean to say you like walking the edge?"
"I mean to say I like you."
The air froze. Auren forgot to breathe. Kael didn't look away, and there was no jest in his eyes—none at all.
"Well?" he bent closer, his breath brushing her lips. "Going to pretend you didn't hear me?"
Auren stood her ground, but inside everything flipped. This was the line. A step beyond it, and nothing would be the same.
Kael exhaled slowly, gaze dropping again to her mouth. The tension between them thickened, tangible, suffocating.
"You know I don't take kindly to people running from me," he murmured.
Auren smirked faintly, refusing to look away.
"And I'm not running."
She stayed exactly where she was. He stepped closer. She didn't move.
"Testing my patience again?"
"And aren't you afraid it might run out one day?"
His smile deepened, though his eyes were stripped of levity.
"I think you're curious what happens if it does."
"Maybe." Her voice was steady, but her breath betrayed her.
He leaned in further, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him.
"Dangerous game, Auren."
"Don't you like dangerous games?" she whispered back.
"Only when I win." His lips curled into a sly smirk.
His gaze burned into her, challenging. But when she squared her shoulders, silently daring him back, Kael moved—fast. His hand closed around her waist, pulling her hard against him.
Her breath hitched, but her eyes never left his. His grip was firm but not crushing, only enough to make her feel the absence of space between them.
"Maybe this game is more dangerous for you than for me," he said, his voice low and velvet-dark.
Auren tilted her chin up.
"Prove it."
He chuckled under his breath.
"You demand proof?"
"Didn't you say you only play to win?"
Something dark flickered in his gaze before he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against her skin like fire.
"Then let me prove it."
He moved slowly, deliberately, as though offering her every chance to stop him. But Auren didn't move. Only her heart stumbled in its rhythm.
His breath hovered over her lips. Another second, and the line between them would vanish for good.
Auren knew it. This was the last line. If it disappeared, what then? How could she go on working with him as before—taking orders, keeping her composure, pretending to be nothing but his secretary—when everything between them had already changed? Their banter, his teasing authority, her defiance... it would all unravel into something else entirely. Something they couldn't control.
Her chest tightened, and she did the only thing she could.
With a sharp twist, she broke free of his hold, stepping back. Without giving herself a moment to think, she bolted for the door.
"Auren." His voice followed her, surprisingly calm, but laced with something unspoken—warm, magnetic.
She didn't turn back.
"I have work to do, Mr. Dantes," she said, her voice almost steady, though a faint tremor betrayed her.
The door closed behind her, shutting him away, and Auren pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart hammer wildly.
A dangerous game. And she had almost lost just now.
She quickly crossed the room to her desk and sank into her chair, exhaling sharply. Her heart still raced, and in her ears echoed Kael's voice—low, steady, far too close.
Shaking her head, she forced herself to push it aside. Now wasn't the time.
Today was the presentation.
She had to focus. She had to finish the work, polish everything to perfection—just as she always did.
Closing her eyes, Auren drew in a deep breath, then released it. Once more. She opened her laptop, straightened her posture, and fixed her gaze on the screen.
Not Kael. Not that moment in his office. Only the project.
Only the work.
Nothing else mattered.
But she had barely settled into her chair when the comm panel lit up with an incoming call. Her lips pressed into a tight line before she tapped the button, already knowing who it was.
"Yes, boss?" she said evenly, though a note of weariness slipped into her voice.
"You cut me off."
Kael's tone was lazy, as if none of this mattered to him at all, but Auren could swear he was smiling right now.
She closed her eyes for a second, steadying her breath.
"Wasn't our conversation finished?"
"You only thought it was," he chuckled.
Auren rolled her eyes. Did he really enjoy pushing her this far?
"You asked for proof, and then you ran away," he added, amusement lacing his words.
She bit down on her lip but didn't reply. Because... he was right. She had run.
"So what is it you want?" she asked at last, eager to end this quickly.
"Me?" He seemed to savor the word. "Hmm... I'm not sure. Maybe..."
He paused, and Auren could hear the faint sound of him leaning back in his chair.
"Maybe I just want to stretch the moment. Watch you start to lose your patience. It's... charming."
Her mouth opened for a retort, but only a breath escaped.
"I'm not losing my patience," she said firmly at last.
"Really?" His voice dipped lower, softer, almost a whisper. "Then why are your fingers clenched on the armrest?"
Auren's gaze snapped downward. He was right. Her hand was gripping the fabric of the chair—unconsciously, tightly.
She forced her palm to relax, but the sensation of his watchful eyes lingered—even through the connection.
"I just..."
"Just blushed?"
She flinched, jerking her head up to glance at her reflection in the cabinet mirror. No. She hadn't... had she?
"No," she said firmly.
"No?" he echoed, and she could almost see the smirk curling his lips. "You know I notice the details."
Auren inhaled deeply, her teeth grinding together.
He was playing.
Even through the connection, he somehow managed to shake her composure.
"If you have something important to say, then say it. Otherwise, I'm ending this call," she snapped, hoping her ragged breathing didn't betray her.
"Oh, you're in a hurry?"
She rolled her eyes.
"I have work."
"And here I thought you were waiting for me to say something else."
Auren opened her mouth to argue—but stopped short.
"See?" Kael's voice slowed, deepened. "You don't even deny it."
She drew in a sharp breath, ready to answer, but he didn't let her.
"Maybe I'm leaning in again, close enough for you to feel my breath on your skin..."
Auren froze, her hand curling into a fist.
"Maybe my voice drops lower, warmer..."
She wasn't breathing.
"And maybe I ask again: will you still pretend you don't like me?"
Silence.
The air thickened around her, every movement suddenly heavy.
"You already know the answer," she whispered, barely realizing she'd spoken.
Kael exhaled slowly, and the sound slid across her skin like a shiver.
"I wanted to hear it from you," his voice was low, warm, unbearably close. "Because I've already confessed."
Her fingers dug into the chair again as her control frayed.
The air between them—though separated by walls and circuits—felt dense, charged. Auren's tongue brushed across her lips, dry, trembling.
"But since you don't want to say it..."
She heard him rise. A muted shift of fabric, the scrape of his chair.
He was still in his office. But his voice... it sounded as if he were right beside her.
"Maybe I should just make you admit it."
The air in her room thickened, her pulse quickening.
"How?"
The pause was long. Heavy. Pressing harder than words. Auren held her breath, waiting.
"Maybe," Kael said at last, "I let my fingers trace slowly along your cheek... as if by accident, though I mean it."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"And just as you try to speak, I lean closer still..." His voice had dropped to something darker, warmer, intimate.
Her breath caught, her fingers locking on the armrest.
"And I whisper..."
Her throat was dry.
"'Looks like now you really are blushing.'"
Auren's eyes shut tight, her hands trembling slightly. She didn't need the mirror to know heat had crept across her face.
"You don't realize how enchanting you look, trying to hide it..."
She sucked in air, shaky, her hands trembling.
"But I can see it anyway. Your cheeks warming, glowing..."
Silence followed. Thick. Consuming.
"You know what?"
She didn't answer—she only waited.
"It makes you even more beautiful."
Auren exhaled sharply, as though she'd only just remembered to breathe.
Her hand hovered over the panel, then pressed the disconnect button.
The screen went dark. His voice disappeared.
But his words—his tone—still rang inside her, refusing to let her focus, refusing to let go.
Auren returned her gaze to the computer screen, trying to focus on work, but she couldn't. Kael's words kept circling in her head—too tempting, too dangerous to simply let go.
With a frustrated sigh, she closed the presentation she'd been working on and opened the window with the daily report—at least to check if it had arrived. It hadn't. Instead, a few other documents were waiting: several requests requiring Kael's signature.
For a moment, Auren hesitated. Should she go into his office? Especially now, after everything that had just happened between them. But then her lips curved into a faint smirk. If she backed down—she'd lose. And losing was not an option.
That's when another idea started to form. Something far more interesting. A way to make him lose instead. After all, Iris had told her not to run, because she was Auren—not just some ordinary girl. The corners of her lips lifted higher, carrying a spark of playful determination. Auren rose from her seat and headed toward his office.
Her steps were unhurried, confident, as if she carried an urgent matter, not her carefully disguised intentions. Inhale—exhale. Behind that door sat the man who could throw her off rhythm with just his voice. But now, it was her move.
Auren pushed the door open and walked in without waiting for permission. Her face calm, her eyes carrying just a touch of irritation, as though she were here out of necessity, not choice.
"Sorry to barge in," she said evenly, holding a folder in her hands. "But I don't really have another option."
She approached his desk, not meeting his eyes directly but not avoiding them either, as if deliberately ignoring their earlier conversation the same way one ignores background noise—noticed, but dismissed.
"These papers need your signature. Urgently. If you don't sign them by the end of the day, the process stops. I didn't make the rules," she added with a soft, almost bored sigh, setting the documents at the edge of his desk.
Only then did she allow herself a quick glance at him—a fleeting look, but one that carried a hint of deliberate mischief. She was watching him again from below, but not like the moment she had fled before. This time, it was the look of a predator disguised as prey.
"I just thought this was better than using the intercom again," her voice neutral, yet pulsing with a subtle undercurrent of challenge. "Besides..." Auren tilted her head slightly, lips twitching faintly. "We do need to learn how to work professionally, don't we?"
She stepped closer. Then closer again.
Slowly, she reached his desk and offered the papers—not just handing them over, but leaning just a fraction too near, closer than necessary. Close enough for his eyes to flicker down for the briefest second, tracing her silhouette before lifting back to her face.
Auren noticed. And it was exactly what she wanted.
"Here," she said in a voice smooth, almost gentle. "The first page is here. You can sign them in order."
Her fingertip traced lightly along the page, barely brushing the paper. Then, as if suddenly remembering, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear without breaking his gaze. Casual. Effortless. Yet every motion was calculated to perfection.
Kael didn't move. Only his grip on the pen tightened slightly. He said nothing, but in his eyes a spark flared—brief, almost hidden, like the first flicker before a fire takes hold.
He didn't look away. Still holding on to his mask of indifference, but the faint twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him. His gaze burned—slow, steady, inevitable, like embers waiting to consume.
She straightened slowly, as if reluctant to withdraw from the charged closeness—when suddenly her eyes caught on his shoulder.
"You have..." she murmured, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Dust here."
Before he could react, she reached toward his collar, brushing her fingers against the fabric—soft, deliberate.
Her fingertips grazed the skin of his neck—fleetingly, yet enough to send a subtle shiver through him.
Auren was about to step back, straightening gracefully as if nothing had happened—when suddenly, he rose to his feet.
The air between them thickened instantly, heavy like the stillness before a storm. His movement was smooth, but carried a predator's precision. She barely had time to blink before he was closer than she'd expected. Too close.
In the next heartbeat, his fingers closed around her wrist. The gesture wasn't rough, but sharp enough, sudden enough, to make Auren's heart jolt violently inside her chest.
With a single swift pull, he drew her toward him. The space between them evaporated. Her breath faltered, yet she refused to recoil.
"Tell me," his voice had dropped, lower now, weighted with tension, "are you doing this on purpose?"
Auren froze, her heart skipping a beat. She looked up at him, and the expression on his face almost stole the air from her lungs.
"What exactly?" she whispered, though she already knew what he meant.
"Coming in here with that false businesslike mask," Kael continued, leaning closer, "so you can demand proof again? Or are you just looking for an excuse... to be near me?"
His face hovered so close, his breath warmed her cheek. His fingers still circled her wrist—not crushing, not forcing, but holding her in that precarious place between danger and desire.
"Or maybe..." his voice thinned into the silence, deliberate and unhurried, "...you're just testing who's really in control here?"
The pause between his words was more dangerous than the words themselves. It crawled along her skin, raising goosebumps.
Auren tilted her head slightly, studying him as intently as he studied her. Her fingers, caught in his grip, pulsed with faint trails of heat at every small shift. He held her lightly, yes—but with a quiet certainty that said he had no intention of letting go.
She could try to pull free. She could step back. But that would mean conceding. And Auren was not the type to retreat.
Her mind raced. Joke it off? No—he'd only push further. Try to force him to loosen his grip first? Useless—Kael was far too stubborn.
Then an idea sparked.
Auren slowly lifted her gaze, a faint, almost lazy smile tugging at her lips. She leaned forward ever so slightly, shrinking the gap between them to almost nothing, and locked her eyes with his—open, daring, laced with the flicker of a smirk.
"What if it's the other way around?" she murmured, her voice soft but heavy with implication.
Kael narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing.
"You're so certain you hold control," Auren went on, tilting her head just a fraction closer. "But what if, all this time, it's actually been me?"
Kael's head shifted subtly to the side, his gaze darkening, though the faint curve at his lips remained.
"An interesting theory," he drawled. "And how exactly do you plan to prove it?"
Auren leaned just a little more on her toes, trimming the distance to a whisper of space, though she didn't touch him. She knew he could feel her nearness—that it was her silent answer.
"I could," she said, pausing as if in thought, her smile flickering, "but... maybe you'll just have to take my word for it."
And before he could reply, her fingers slid lightly, confidently along his wrist, easing her hand free from his hold with practiced grace.
Kael said nothing, his eyes never leaving her, watching each of her movements as though searching for something deeper than mere defiance. Perhaps a challenge. Perhaps a confession. Perhaps both.
"Fine," he said quietly at last, almost as if conceding to her game. He picked up the folder, opened it, and signed the papers—unhurried, steady, every stroke precise, as though it were nothing more than routine.
But Auren felt it—every part of him was still fixed entirely on her.
He closed the folder and straightened, once again standing close.
She didn't move.
"Here." His voice was calm as he held out the documents.
She reached for them, but the moment her fingers wrapped around the folder, his now free hand slid to her waist. Confident. Without warning.
He drew her in. Not harshly, but firmly. Close enough that not a single breath of space remained between them.
"You came back," he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper, but every word cut straight through her skin. "After you ran."
Auren felt his fingers press a little tighter against her waist, that touch carrying the same persistence as his voice.
"So you want to hear the rest. Or..." His head tilted, his gaze dropping to her lips before lifting back to her eyes. "You finally want to give me an answer."
A pause.
The silence between them thickened again, charged and dangerous — and this time, Auren felt that he wasn't playing anymore. Or maybe he was playing for real.
"I confessed," Kael continued, his voice quieter now, but thrumming with power. "And now I'm waiting. Your move, Auren."
She stepped back, the documents in her hands, and offered him a sly little smile.
"Thanks for the signature, boss."
Her breath left her slowly, as if she were easing herself out of the moment. But just before she could retreat too far, a reckless thought sparked. Before she could stop herself, she leaned in sharply.
The warm brush of her lips against his cheek lasted only a second — a fleeting, featherlight kiss, yet strong enough to leave a mark.
Kael froze.
She felt his muscles tighten for the briefest instant at the unexpected touch, but he didn't move, didn't speak.
Auren straightened with quiet confidence, stepped back, and tossed over her shoulder:
"Don't forget who's leading this game."
And then she walked out, calm, leaving silence in her wake.
Kael still hadn't moved. Slowly, he brought his fingers to his cheek — the place where her lips had just been.
A smile tugged at his mouth.
"Clever," he muttered under his breath. There was no irritation in his tone, no trace of frustration — only a quiet note of admiration.
His gaze drifted toward the door where Auren had just vanished.