Cynthia Brooks was halfway through reorganizing her desk for the third time that morning when her phone vibrated.
She ignored it.
Then it vibrated again.
And again.
With a sigh, she flipped it face-up and froze.
Julianne.
Her heart skipped. Then sank. Then raced all at once.
She hadn't told Julianne where she worked now. She hadn't told her about the penthouse, the threats, Lydia West, or the way Alexander Voss had quietly rearranged her entire life in the name of safety.
Apparently, later had arrived.
Before Cynthia could call her back, a familiar voice cut through the office hum.
"Wow. So this is where you disappeared to."
Cynthia spun around so fast she nearly knocked over her chair.
Julianne stood a few feet away, hands on her hips, dark curls slightly frizzy from the city air, eyes sharp with a mix of relief and unmistakable irritation.
"Julianne," Cynthia hissed, rushing toward her. "What are you doing here?"
Julianne raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing. You vanish, you stop answering properly, and suddenly you work for Alexander Voss?" She glanced around the sleek office. "Do you know how terrifying it is to Google your boss and find out he's basically a corporate myth?"
Cynthia grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a quieter corner. "You shouldn't be here."
"That's the second time you've said that this week," Julianne shot back. "And both times, you refused to explain why."
Cynthia opened her mouth. Closed it. Lowered her voice. "I just… things have been complicated."
"Complicated doesn't involve switching jobs overnight and sleeping in hotels," Julianne said, eyes narrowing. "I checked."
Cynthia winced. "You what?"
"I worry," Julianne said simply.
Before Cynthia could respond, the atmosphere around them shifted. Conversations quieted. The air seemed to sharpen.
Alexander Voss had stepped out of his office.
He didn't look angry. He rarely did. But there was something alert in his posture, something watchful in his eyes as they landed on Julianne — assessing, measuring, calculating.
Julianne felt it instantly.
"That," she muttered under her breath, "is him."
Cynthia groaned. "Please behave."
Alexander approached calmly. "Miss Brooks," he said, voice neutral. Then his gaze moved to Julianne. "You are julianne?
Julianne straightened instinctively. "Yes julianne. Cynthia's best friend."
Alexander's eyes flicked back to Cynthia. There was no reprimand in his expression — only a subtle tightening of his jaw."Don't you know that she is at work? "
"I didn't plan on visiting," Julianne replied. "But she stopped returning my calls."
Cynthia shot her a warning look.
Alexander studied Julianne for a moment longer than necessary, then nodded. "You may use the conference room. Ten minutes."
Julianne blinked. "That's… surprisingly reasonable."
Alexander's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. "I can be reasonable."
With that, he turned and walked away.
Julianne exhaled. "Okay. He's terrifying. And attractive. Which is unfair."
Cynthia didn't respond. Her pulse was still racing.
Inside the conference room, Julianne wasted no time.
"Start talking," she said, folding her arms. "Now."
Cynthia sat across from her, hands clasped together. "I can't tell you everything."
Julianne sighed. "You always say that right before telling me something terrible."
Cynthia hesitated. Then spoke carefully. "There were… people. Dangerous ones. Alexander used to be connected to them. They thought I was leverage."
Julianne's face paled. "Leverage?"
"I'm safe now," Cynthia said quickly. "They stopped chasing us. Alexander made sure of that."
"That sentence alone is a red flag," Julianne said sharply. "You're trusting him with your safety?"
Silence fell between them.
Julianne softened. "You should have told me."
"I didn't want you involved," Cynthia whispered. "Someone already got hurt."
Julianne swallowed. "Lydia."
Cynthia nodded.
Julianne reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You don't get to protect me by pushing me away."
Before Cynthia could answer, the door opened.
Alexander stood there, composed as ever. "Time."
Julianne stood slowly. "You take care of her," she said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "If anything happens to her—"
"It won't," Alexander said calmly.
Julianne studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Good."
As Julianne left, Cynthia lingered.
"You didn't have to be nice," she said quietly.
"I wasn't," Alexander replied. Then, after a pause, "But she cares about you. That matters."
Cynthia looked up at him, surprised.
Alexander met her gaze, something unreadable passing between them.
"Go back to work, Miss Brooks," he said softly. "And try not to reorganize your desk again."
Her lips curved despite herself. "No promises."