Rain had a way of softening the world, but not tonight. It fell in silver sheets over the glass walls of the Vance building, catching the light like shards. The city below pulsed, restless and bright, but up here—twenty-seven floors high—everything felt suspended.
Mara stood near the window, one hand wrapped around a crystal tumbler she hadn't sipped from. Her reflection looked too calm, too careful. The dress she wore was black velvet, its neckline daring, her posture composed. A perfect mask.
Behind her, Elias's voice cut through the hum of rain. "You shouldn't have come."
"I had to." She didn't turn, not yet. "They're asking questions, Elias. About the contract. About us."
That last word hung there, heavier than she meant.
He was leaning against his desk—no tie tonight, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The controlled businessman façade cracked just enough to reveal the man beneath. The dangerous kind of man. The kind who didn't ask for what he wanted. He took it and made you thank him for it.
"Let them ask," he said, gaze steady. "They always do."
Mara finally turned. "This isn't gossip, Elias. This is exposure. If anyone finds out about what happened—"
He cut in, voice low, almost lazy. "You mean us?"
Her throat tightened. The word still felt forbidden, even in private."I mean your reputation. Your company. Everything you built—"
"You think I care about that more than I care about you?" His words hit the air like a match.
Silence. Just the rain. Her pulse stumbled.
"You shouldn't," she said softly, trying to sound cold. "You don't even know who I am."
He pushed away from the desk and crossed the distance between them in slow, deliberate steps. Each one seemed to test her resolve. She held her ground, but her breath betrayed her.
"I know enough," he murmured, stopping close enough for her to feel the warmth of him. "I know you weren't afraid that night at the gala. I know you wanted to fall just to see if I'd catch you."
Her lips parted. "That's not true."
His smile was faint, dangerous. "Liar."
The word shouldn't have sounded like a compliment, but somehow it did.
She wanted to hate the way his voice wrapped around her name. The way her pulse always betrayed her when he came near. But in this world of polished lies and money-soaked power, Elias Vance was the only person who looked at her like she was real.
Her glass trembled slightly. She set it down before it shattered.
"You don't get to talk to me like that," she whispered.
"Then tell me to stop."
She didn't.Couldn't.
He stepped closer. Close enough that the scent of rain and cedar filled her lungs. His hand lifted, fingers brushing a strand of her hair back from her face—slow, reverent, dangerous.
"Tell me you don't want this," he said, his voice nearly a whisper.
Her eyes burned. "I can't."
"Then stop pretending."
That broke something in her. The restraint, the denial, the self-control she'd built like armor. It cracked, and the truth slipped out between them—warm, reckless, alive.
She turned away before she could drown in him, pressing her palms against the cold glass. "This is wrong."
He stood behind her, silent for a long beat. "Everything worth wanting usually is."
The city glowed below them—neon veins of gold and violet. Her reflection caught his eyes in the glass: dark, unwavering.
When he finally reached out, his hand hovered near her shoulder, waiting for a permission she wouldn't give but wouldn't deny either.
Outside, thunder rolled. Inside, the world fell silent.
Mara closed her eyes. "If anyone finds out—"
"They won't."
"You don't know that."
He leaned closer, his breath tracing her skin. "I don't need to. I'll protect you."
Her heart ached at the word. Protection had a cost. It always did.
And deep down, they both knew the kind of man who offered safety in a world like his didn't do it for free.
Still, she let him stay there—just behind her, just close enough to ruin her peace.
The rain whispered secrets against the glass, and in the silence that followed, something shifted.Something they couldn't undo.