Kadri adjusted her blazer in the mirror, biting her lip. Her usual soft curls were pinned into a sleek bun, and her heels gave her just enough height to feel powerful without threatening to collapse.
Today was the internal pitch.
And Andrew Knight himself had invited her to sit in.
She was still trying to figure out why. He was intimidating, brilliant, sometimes infuriating, but under that ice-cold exterior, there was something magnetic. Something she wasn't sure she should be noticing but couldn't help being drawn to.
When she entered the glass boardroom at 9:00 a.m. sharp, the space was already half-full with department heads and assistants. Andrew stood near the screen, tapping on a tablet, his usual charcoal suit tailored in confidence.
His eyes flicked to her for half a second, and in that single glance, something shifted.
He looked… pleased? No one can tell.
"Take a seat," he said, voice lower than usual. "To my right."
To his right? In a room full of people?
Kadri sat, heart pounding. She kept her gaze on her notepad, willing her hands not to sweat. Andrew started the presentation, outlining the vision for the new AI scheduling tool.
She jotted down everything, data points, investor reactions, even the way Andrew's jaw clenched slightly every time someone interrupted him mid-sentence.
When the pitch wrapped and the room cleared, Andrew closed his laptop slowly. The room was silent but not empty. Just the two of them now.
"You did well," he said, breaking the silence.
"I didn't do anything," Kadri replied.
"You didn't need to. Just having you in the room made a difference."
She looked up.
"People are starting to notice you," he continued. "That's good. But it also means you have to be careful."
"Careful of what?" she asked, leaning slightly forward.
He studied her for a long moment. "Careful who you trust."
The air between them thickened. Kadri opened her mouth, but her voice caught. She wasn't sure what to say.
Instead, she stood. "Thanks for letting me sit in."
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
"Kadri!"
She turned back. He was still watching her. Unblinking. Unreadable.
"I know I've been... hard on you."
"You don't say."
A half-smile curved his lips. "I push people I see potential in."
"So you're saying I have potential?"
"I'm saying you keep surprising me."
She stepped toward him now, closer than before.
"Then maybe you should stop looking at me like that," she said, softly.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to kiss me but you're pretending it's a business meeting."
Andrew didn't move for a second.
"I'm not pretending," he said. "I'm trying to control it."
Kadri's breath hitched.
Their bodies were just inches apart now, close enough that she could smell his cologne, earthy and expensive and far too distracting.
He reached out and gently touched the edge of her collar. Just a brush of his fingers.
"You missed a button," he murmured.
Her heart somersaulted. She looked down, he was right. The top of her blouse was slightly crooked.
"Thanks," she whispered, adjusting it with shaky hands.
"You're nervous," he said, his voice very low.
"I'm not," she lied.
"You are," he repeated.
She looked up into his eyes, and for once, all the CEO armor was gone. Just a man. A guarded, intense, impossibly attractive man standing far too close.
"Do you always flirt with your interns?" she asked.
He leaned in slightly. "Only the ones who challenge me."
Her breath caught as his hand brushed her arm—light, careful, testing. She didn't pull away.
Instead, she tilted her head up. Their faces were just a breath apart.
"Andrew," she murmured. His name sounded foreign on her lips. "You're getting intimate."
"I know I shouldn't," he whispered.
"But you want to."
He didn't answer.
In the next second, his lips found hers.
Soft and slow.
It wasn't the kind of kiss that knocked over tables. It was deeper, far measured, almost reverent, like he was memorizing her, like he'd wanted this longer than he'd admit.
She kissed him back, fingers clutching the edge of his blazer, heart hammering in her chest. When they finally pulled apart, breathless, his forehead rested lightly against hers.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured.
"I won't," she whispered.
They stood like that for a few seconds more, letting the silence speak louder than words.
Finally, he stepped back.
"This doesn't leave the room," he said.
"Then you'd better stop looking at me like that in meetings," she teased, with her voice shaky.
He smiled again, only this time, it reached his eyes.
"Go," he said gently. "Before I forget every HR policy I've ever approved."
She slipped out, her heart racing, her lips tingling, and her mind spinning.
Whatever this was between them, it was dangerous. But it was also real. And it was just getting started.