Liana's Penthouse
Liana had just finished her brunch and was scrolling lazily through her phone when it buzzed with an incoming call. She squinted at the screen.
*Saphina Hadley.*
A surprised smile stretched on her face as she picked up.
*Liana*: "Hello?"
*Saphina*: "Hi, Liana! I hope I'm not bothering you?"
*Liana*: "No, not at all. Just being lazy."
*Saphina*: *laughs* "That's allowed sometimes. I just called to check up on you... and also to say I'm really sorry for forgetting your birthday."
*Liana* chuckled, leaning back on her couch: "Oh, please. You don't owe me an apology. We've only met once. I didn't even expect you to remember."
*Saphina*: "Still, I feel bad. But since it's not too far gone, let me officially say it—Happy Belated Birthday, Liana!"
*Liana*: "Aww, thank you!"
*Saphina*: "So tell me, what do you do? Or are you one of those mysterious rich girls that only show up at cafés looking like a Vogue cover?"
*Liana* laughed: "Not even close. I'm currently in university. Final year. Just one more year to go, then I'm free!"
*Saphina*: "Wow, beauty and brains? Your enemies must be exhausted!"
They both burst into laughter.
*Saphina*: "We should totally hang out sometime. You know, girl time—no brothers, no business, just gossip, fries, and overpriced drinks."
*Liana*: "Deal! Let's make it next week. I could use the break."
*Saphina*: "It's a date then."
They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Liana smiled, genuinely warmed by the conversation. She had been surrounded by fake friendships for so long, it felt refreshing to speak with someone who wasn't pretending.
Just as she set her phone down, she noticed she had a message from Jack
*Jack:* *Hi.*
She grinned.
*Liana:* *Hey! What's up?*
*Jack:* *Not much. For a moment there, I thought you were ignoring me.*
*Liana:* *Haha! Never. I was on a call.*
*Jack:* *With a man? 👀*
Liana blinked at the screen, then smirked. He was jealous... or at least pretending to be.
*Liana:* *Yh.*
*Jack:* *Let me guess… your ex?*
*Liana:* *Nope. New guy.*
*Jack:* *Do you like him?*
*Liana:* *Still figuring that out. 🤷🏽♀️*
*Jack:* *Be careful. He might just be after your money .*
*Liana:* *Wow. That's comforting.*
*Jack:* *I'm just saying. Guys like that exist.*
*Liana:* *And what about you? Aren't you also a "guy like that"?*
*Jack:* *No. I'm the exception. The rich, mysterious, emotionally unavailable exception.*
*Liana:* *So basically… toxic but in designer suits?*
*Jack:* *Ouch. Accurate, but ouch.*
She laughed out loud, shaking her head.
*Liana:* *Anyway, why are you so pressed about me talking to another guy?*
*Jack:* *Because I thought I was your favorite male distraction.*
*Liana:* *You're still in the top three, relax.*
*Jack:* *Top three?? There's a ranking now? I demand a recount.*
*Liana:* *Maybe if you bring me ice cream, you'll rise to #1.*
*Jack:* *Bribery. Classic.*
*Liana:* *You love it.*
There was a brief pause, then she decided to turn the tables.
*Liana:* *So… tell me about your love life, Mr. Exception.*
*Jack:* *Do we have to go there?*
*Liana:* *Yup. Spill the tea, or forever lose your top-three status.*
*Jack:* *Fine. It's boring. Empty. Cold. Like my fridge.*
*Liana:* *So, no secret girlfriend hiding in the shadows?*
*Jack:* *Nope. Just me, my sarcasm, and bad trust issues.*
*Liana:* *Wow. Romantic.*
*Jack:* *Don't act like yours is any better.*
*Liana:* *Mine is a public mess, thank you very much. You saw it all live at the coffee shop.*
*Jack:* *Ah yes, the ex-boyfriend who thought he owned you like property. What a legend... in stupidity.*
*Liana:* *Honestly. If red flags were currency, he'd be a billionaire.*
*Jack:* *And yet you dated him?*
*Liana:* *Blame 17-year-old me. She had bad taste and daddy issues.*
Jack sent a laughing emoji, followed by:
*Jack:* *he's lucky I didn't show up earlier. I might've punched him.*
*Liana:* *Please. You would've just stood there looking intimidating with your arms folded.*
*Jack:* *True. That's my signature move. It works better than fists.*
*Liana:* *Noted. I'll try it next time I run into fake friends.*
A comfortable silence settled between their messages. Then Jack sent:
*Jack:* *So… when are we hanging out again?*
*Liana:* *You trying to make up for lost time already?*
*Jack:* *No. I just like annoying you in person better than over text.*
*Liana:* *Fair enough. I'll check my schedule.*
*Jack:* *Don't take too long. You're starting to grow on me.*
*Liana:* *Wow. That's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me.*
*Jack:* *Don't get used to it.*
*Liana:* *Too late.*
She smiled, set the phone down, and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. The butterflies were definitely fluttering. She hadn't felt this alive in a while.
And just as she closed her eyes to soak in the moment, her phone buzzed again.
*Jack:* *Also, I am officially claiming #1 spot. No more top-three nonsense.*
*Liana:* *Let's see how long you can keep it. 😉*
---
Tristan Moretti's Office – Velvet Corporation
The room was quiet, save for the subtle flipping of documents and the occasional ticking of the sleek silver clock on the wall.
Saphina stood at Tristan's desk, presenting a breakdown of the issues regarding the Zezit Enterprise merger. Her tone was firm, professional, and slightly breathless from rushing up two flights of stairs — the elevators were acting up again.
"…and as you can see, sir, if we don't close this deal before the end of the quarter, the delay fees alone will be—Mr. Moretti?" She glanced up from the document.
Tristan was staring.
Not in a creepy way. No. But definitely not in a CEO-doing-his-job kind of way either.
His gaze was fixed—low-key mesmerized—by the way her lips moved when she explained things, the slight sway of her hair over her shoulder, and the way her blouse hugged her figure just right.
When she looked up to meet his eyes, he instantly dipped his gaze back down to the paper, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the paragraph she had just finished reading aloud.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Right… So," she continued, dragging out the word suspiciously, "what do you suggest we do next about the supplier issue?"
Tristan blinked and looked up, caught.
"Uh… do what ?" he asked dumbly.
Saphina placed the file on the desk, folded her arms, and stared at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"Were you even listening to me at all?" she asked.
"I—uh—" he adjusted his tie. "I mean, I caught some of it."
"Some?" she raised a brow.
Tristan cleared his throat. "Look, you're smart. You know what to do, Saphina."
She squinted at him. "Okay, now I know something's off. You're usually cold, grumpy, and annoyingly detail-oriented. But today? You're acting like you're high on sleep meds. What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he said quickly, a little too quickly.
"Right..." she muttered.
She gathered the documents off the table and turned to leave, but her elbow knocked over a sleek pen holder, sending pens clattering across the floor.
"Oh no—sorry!" she said, instantly bending down to pick them up.
Unfortunately her skirt lifted slightly as she crouched, revealing the smooth curve of her upper thighs and a glimpse of soft skin. She had no idea her body was currently being viewed like a live Mona Lisa painting.
Tristan's breath hitched. His jaw clenched.
"God help me," he muttered under his breath as he tore his gaze away and turned sharply toward the window. "Saphina."
Her head jerked up at the sudden call of her name. Realizing what position she was in—and *who* was behind her—her eyes widened.
She stood quickly, flustered, cheeks flaming.
"I'm—uh—sorry, I didn't mean—" She didn't finish the sentence. She clutched the documents to her chest and practically sprinted to the door. "I'll send the digital file to your email!"
The door closed a little too loudly behind her.
Tristan stood still, facing the window, fingers rubbing at his temple.
"What are you doing to me, " he whispered, his voice low, rough.
He looked down to see his little monster awake, groaned, and muttered, "This is inappropriate. This is *very* inappropriate."
But his lower half had other opinions.
He walked to his chair and sat heavily, trying to compose himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
He had built walls. Ice-cold, steel-reinforced emotional walls. And somehow, someway, Saphina Hadley—with her smart mouth, bold eyes, and unintentionally seductive thighs—was breaking through every damn one of them.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
"This woman is going to be the death of me."