The world didn't go quiet after a choice like hers. It hummed louder. Every corner of Mara's life began to sharpen—faces watching too closely, whispers trailing her name like smoke.
She felt it that Monday morning when she walked into the lobby of the Vance Tower. Everything gleamed a little too bright, like the city was mocking her. The receptionist's polite smile didn't reach her eyes. The security guard's nod lingered a beat too long.
Someone knew. Or someone suspected. And that was almost worse.
The elevator swallowed her whole, the walls mirrored in gold. Her reflection stared back—a woman pretending she wasn't unraveling. When the doors slid open at the executive floor, she inhaled sharply.
Elias's office waited at the end of the hall like a sin dressed in black marble.
"Duval," a voice interrupted—smooth, crisp, practiced. Sebastian Vale. Elias's right hand. Always watching, always a step too close to knowing everything.
"Morning," she said, forcing casual into her voice.
His smile didn't match his eyes. "He's waiting for you."
Mara's pulse tripped. "For me?"
Sebastian tilted his head. "He doesn't usually wait for anyone. Congratulations, you're special."
She hated how his words made heat crawl up her neck. She walked past him without replying, but his gaze stayed on her like a fingerprint she couldn't wipe off.
Inside the office, the air changed. Warm. Dark. Heavy with the faint scent she was starting to crave too much. Elias stood near the window, tie loose, sleeves rolled again—he always looked like a man who'd just undone something dangerous.
"You came," he said softly.
"You told me to."
His smile was the kind that didn't reach the surface. "No. I expected you to. There's a difference."
She crossed her arms—not to challenge him, but to keep herself from reaching for what she shouldn't want. "People are starting to notice."
He turned, slow and deliberate, like a storm changing direction. "Let them."
"This isn't a game."
"No," he said. "It's not."
Then he closed the distance between them with a pace that made her heart stumble. His hand brushed against the wall behind her as he leaned in—not touching her, just caging her between him and the edge of common sense.
"You look at me," Elias whispered, "like you're dying to be caught but terrified of the cost."
Her breath hitched. "Because I am."
His fingers grazed her jaw. Just enough. The touch burned hotter than a kiss.
"I can ruin you," he murmured, the honesty sharp and quiet.
"I know," she breathed back.
His thumb traced the line just beneath her lip, slow. A shiver slipped down her spine, involuntary. Dangerous. Addictive.
"And you'll let me," he added, more like a promise than a threat.
Mara's lashes fluttered shut for half a second too long. She hated how right he sounded.
But then—a soft click. Not from them. From the door.
She jerked slightly, Elias's hand still ghosting against her face. He didn't flinch. He turned his head, calm, predator-smooth.
Sebastian leaned against the frame, a file in hand, an amused smile playing at his mouth. "Sorry. Should I come back later?"
Mara's blood ran cold.
Elias didn't move away. "You should knock."
"I did," Sebastian said lightly, eyes flicking to her. "You were… busy."
Heat bloomed under her skin, humiliation and thrill mixing like smoke and sugar.
Elias finally straightened, his hand sliding away but leaving the warmth behind. "What is it?"
"Board meeting. Ten minutes."
"Good."
Sebastian's gaze lingered one heartbeat too long on Mara. Not lustful. Calculating. Like someone cataloguing a weapon. Then he left as smoothly as he came.
Mara sucked in a shaky breath. "He saw—"
"Yes."
"You don't care?"
Elias turned back to her, eyes dark, steady. "He won't say a word."
She stared at him, pulse wild. "You're playing with fire."
"No," he said, stepping back just enough to let her breathe again. "I am fire."
And for a second, the world tilted.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped. Inside, the storm had only just begun.