The alarm shrilled at 5:30 a.m., but Elena was already awake. She always was. Ten quiet minutes in bed before the world claimed her that was her luxury. Ten minutes of silence before her life became schedules, deadlines, and the endless weight of responsibility she never seemed able to set down.
By six, she was dressed in her armor: a black blazer, crisp blouse, hair pinned in a neat twist at the nape of her neck. In the mirror, her reflection stared back polished, professional, untouchable. Exactly how everyone needed her to be.
On the counter, two cups of coffee waited. One was hers black, strong, sharp enough to burn the back of her throat. The other had just a splash of cream. Daniel liked it that way.
The city was still stretching itself awake when she stepped into the cool glass tower of Mercer & Co. Architects. Inside, the office was hushed, phones silent, computers sleeping. Elena moved through the space like she belonged to the quiet.
She tapped lightly on Daniel Mercer's door. Inside, he was already at his desk. His jacket hung neatly on the chair, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie loose at his throat. Even at this hour he managed to look composed, the kind of man who seemed born to command attention without asking for it.
Elena set the coffee on his desk. "Good morning."
Daniel's eyes lifted to hers, warm and steady. When he reached for the cup, his fingers brushed against hers deliberate, not accidental and lingered just long enough for her heart to trip in her chest.
"You always know what I need," he said softly.
She forced a smile. "It's my job."
But he didn't look away. His gaze lingered, thoughtful, too sharp for comfort. "You take care of everyone here, Elena. But who takes care of you?"
The question pierced her like a pin sliding through fabric. She covered it with a practiced laugh. "That's not in the budget."
Daniel's mouth curved faintly, but something in his eyes stayed with her long after she left the office an awareness that felt dangerously close to unraveling the walls she'd built around herself.
By lunchtime, she needed air. Elena carried her files across the street to the café, claimed her usual corner booth, and spread the contracts out like a shield. Her untouched sandwich sat at the edge of the table, forgotten. She had just lifted her pen when a shadow fell across the papers.
"Don't tell me you're working again," a voice teased.
She looked up. A man slid into the seat opposite her without asking. Adrian Cole. One of the new architects. She'd noticed him in passing dark hair unruly, shirt sleeves pushed up, his grin too big for the office's polished walls. He didn't move like the others, didn't carry himself with the same restrained precision. He was… reckless.
Elena blinked. "Excuse me?"
Adrian nodded toward her papers. "You come in here every day, spread out your little fortress, and then bolt back to the office without touching your food. I'm starting to think you don't actually like lunch."
She set her pen down, narrowing her eyes. "Some of us have deadlines."
He leaned back, arms folded across his chest, the picture of casual defiance. "Some of us know the world won't collapse if you sit still for half an hour."
"Maybe it will," she snapped before she could stop herself.
His grin widened, unbothered, as though her irritation amused him. "Or maybe you just like pretending you don't need anyone."
Her pulse skipped, and she hated that it did. Adrian's words pressed on the same bruise Daniel had touched that morning, only harder, bolder. She gathered her papers quickly, refusing to let him see the heat creeping into her cheeks.
"Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Cole."
He didn't stop her, just tilted his head, watching her with those sharp, amused eyes. "Someday, Elena, you're going to let someone take care of you."
The words followed her out of the café, clung to her as she pushed through the revolving doors of the office, whispered back to her as she sat at her desk and forced herself to work.
That night, long after she crawled into bed, she heard them still.
Daniel's calm question: Who takes care of you?
Adrian's daring challenge: Maybe you just like pretending you don't need anyone.
Two men. Two truths.
And beneath them, the one secret Elena kept even from herself the weight of wanting, pressing heavier every day.