Monday came wrapped in the sharp scent of roasted coffee and nerves. Camilla adjusted the strap of her laptop bag and took a long sip of her latte as she stepped into Blake Enterprises. Her heart thudded just a little faster than usual.
Ever since Dominic promoted her to join the quarterly review, she had barely slept. She wasn't sure if it was nerves, excitement… or the echo of his voice from Friday.
"Let me worry about everything but you."
The words haunted her.
As she walked past the reception, several employees turned to greet her with curious smiles and hushed whispers. She gave a polite nod but didn't stop walking. She didn't have time for gossip—not when the weight of executive scrutiny awaited her.
By the time she entered Dominic's office, he was already at his desk, sleeves rolled up, fingers flying over the keyboard.
"You're early," he noted without looking up.
"You're surprised?"
He smirked. "No. But I like pretending to be."
She handed him a coffee. "Two shots of espresso, light foam, no sugar."
He looked up, raising a brow. "Are you spying on my caffeine habits?"
Camilla smirked. "I call it strategic observation."
He took the cup, their fingers brushing briefly. That single touch sent a jolt through her spine. They locked eyes for a moment too long before Camilla pulled away, moving to her seat.
"I reviewed last quarter's employee reports," she said, regaining focus. "And I think the marketing department needs urgent restructuring."
He blinked. "Straight to business?"
She looked him square in the eyes. "We cross the line when we stop doing our jobs. I'm not crossing it. Not today."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Fine. Let's play it your way."
Meeting of Sharks
The executive boardroom was made of glass, steel, and ice-cold judgment. A long oval table sat in the center, surrounded by men and women in tailored suits, armed with charts, reports, and guarded smiles.
Dominic walked in first, the air shifting with his presence. Camilla followed, holding a sleek leather folder, her heels clicking with practiced confidence. She could feel the weight of curious gazes.
One of the older board members, Mr. Langston, cleared his throat.
"Blake, I wasn't aware your assistant was attending."
"She's not my assistant today," Dominic said. "She's my strategic advisor."
Camilla remained composed, though her fingers tightened around the folder.
Langston raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. And what exactly qualifies her for this role?"
Camilla stepped forward smoothly. "Aside from working sixteen-hour days ensuring your meetings start on time, I've analyzed six quarters' worth of internal reports, flagged inefficiencies in three departments, and identified a budget misalignment in your team's last expense sheet."
Langston blinked, stunned into silence.
Dominic grinned. "Any more questions?"
No one spoke.
A Room of Eyes
As the meeting rolled on, Camilla found her rhythm. She answered questions, presented insights, and offered a fresh perspective on several long-standing issues. Even those who doubted her began to nod in agreement.
Halfway through, Dominic leaned closer and whispered, "You're crushing it."
She didn't look at him. "Focus, Mr. Blake."
But the corners of her lips twitched.
After the final presentation, Camilla stood to leave the room, her pulse slowing from its adrenaline high. As she walked past Langston, he gave her a short, respectful nod.
Dominic caught up with her at the elevators.
"You impressed them."
"I impressed myself," she said honestly.
He looked at her, something soft in his eyes. "Good. Because I was never worried."
Camilla turned to face him fully. "Why me, Dominic? You could've had your entire executive team in there. Why risk it on me?"
He stepped closer. "Because when you talk, I listen. When you lead, people follow. And when you walk into a room, the temperature changes."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"I don't want someone who just says yes," he continued. "I want someone who challenges me—and makes me better."
Their eyes locked.
"You make me better, Camilla."
An Almost
The elevator doors opened, breaking the moment. A few employees walked past, but neither Camilla nor Dominic moved.
"You can't keep saying things like that," she whispered. "Not when we're alone. Not when I'm still trying to keep boundaries."
"Boundaries are just lines drawn by fear," he said.
"And yet, they exist for a reason."
Dominic's hand brushed against hers—deliberate, slow.
"I know," he said softly. "But it's getting harder to pretend I don't want more."
Camilla looked up at him, eyes vulnerable and sharp at once. "Wanting more and having more are not the same."
Before he could respond, she turned and walked away.
The Night Shift
Later that evening, Camilla stayed behind, working late in the empty office. The glow of her laptop screen lit up her focused face as she reviewed numbers one more time.
A voice broke the silence.
"Still here?"
She looked up to see Dominic standing in the doorway, jacket off, tie loosened.
"Didn't want to miss anything for tomorrow," she said.
He stepped inside. "You could've sent it from home."
She hesitated. "Home feels… empty tonight."
His expression softened. "Mine too."
The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was charged. Something unsaid pulsed in the air between them.
"You're going to burn yourself out," he said, walking over and gently closing her laptop.
She looked up at him. "And you're going to cross lines you can't uncross."
They were inches apart now.
"I already have."
Her breath hitched.
"You make me reckless, Camilla."
"You make me nervous," she whispered.
"I think about you. Constantly."
"Don't."
"Why?"
"Because if you say one more word, I won't be able to pretend this is just work."
His hand cupped her cheek gently, thumb brushing her skin.
"No more pretending then."
Camilla's eyes fluttered shut, and in that pause, in that breathless second between hesitation and surrender, it almost happened.
But then her phone buzzed—loud, urgent.
She opened her eyes, stepping back as reality crashed down.
"I should go," she said quickly, grabbing her bag.
Dominic didn't stop her.
He just watched her go.
And the door clicked shut like punctuation on a sentence they weren't ready to write.