Aria stood outside Kael Draven's office holding the mug like it had personally offended her, which it had.It sat in her hand like silent evidence.
Black. Glossy. Innocent-looking.
Unlike the man inside the office.
She stared at the door.
"You are not intimidated," she whispered.
She immediately corrected herself.
"You are slightly intimidated."
A pause.
"Okay. Moderately."
Her stomach twisted.
Not from fear.
From nerves.
And maybe from the fact that she skipped breakfast again.
She adjusted her grip on the mug.
"If he did send those messages," she muttered, "I am not backing down."
A beat.
"Unless he raises one eyebrow. Then I might reconsider."
She knocked.
The door opened instantly.
Not after a second.
Not after a polite delay.
Instantly.
Like he'd been standing there the entire time.
And there he was.
Kael Draven.
No mask.
No distance.
No shadows.
Just unfairly sharp features, dark hair slightly falling over his forehead, and grey eyes that looked like they knew secrets about the universe.
He didn't speak immediately.
His gaze dropped to the mug.
Then slowly lifted to her face.
"You brought it."
She blinked.
"That's your opening line?"
His tone remained calm. "It seems appropriate."
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
With force.
Because drama.
"We need to talk."
His brow lifted slightly.
"About the mug."
"Yes."
"You seem very emotionally attached to it."
"I am not emotionally attached. I am emotionally disturbed."
He considered that.
"By ceramic?"
She stared at him.
"You're not taking this seriously."
He walked back toward his desk, movements slow, controlled.
"I assure you, Miss Vale, I take everything seriously."
"That's somehow worse."
She marched forward and placed the mug on his desk.
Loudly.
"It was warm."
He glanced at it.
"And?"
"And?" she repeated. "That means someone put it there recently."
"Yes."
"Yes?" she echoed. "That's your response?"
"You brought me a warm mug and expect panic?"
Her eye twitched.
"I received a text."
That got his attention.
His posture didn't change, but something sharpened in his eyes.
"What did it say?"
"'Don't trust the mask.'"
Silence.
Real silence.
He didn't laugh this time.
Didn't tease.
Just looked at her.
"And you assumed it was about me."
"You wear a mask."
"I wore a mask."
"You stopped."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"You've already seen my face."
Her brain short-circuited briefly.
"That's not the point."
"It seems relevant."
"It's not."
"It is."
She threw her hands up.
"This is why I can't talk to you."
"Because I answer directly?"
"Because you answer like you're above the situation."
"I am above most situations."
She stared at him.
"That is not a normal sentence."
He stepped around the desk slowly.
And suddenly he was closer.
Much closer.
Her heartbeat immediately betrayed her.
"You believe I sent the messages," he said calmly.
"I believe you know something."
"About what?"
"About why someone is watching me."
A flicker.
Barely there.
But she saw it.
Interest.
Concern?
No.
Not concern.
Calculation.
"I do not have time to orchestrate anonymous messages," he said evenly.
"That's exactly what someone who has time would say."
His lips twitched.
"You think highly of my multitasking abilities."
"I think you're suspicious."
"You came into my office to accuse me."
"Yes."
"You're shaking."
"I am not."
"You are."
She looked down.
Her hands were trembling slightly.
Traitorous limbs.
"I had coffee," she lied.
"You did not."
She blinked.
"How do you know?"
"You do not smell like coffee."
She froze.
"…Why would you know what I smell like?"
His gaze didn't waver.
"I observe."
Her brain immediately spiraled.
Observe?
Observe how?
Observe when?
How long had he been—
No.
Stop.
Focus.
"You followed me to the third floor," she said.
"I monitor this building."
"You grabbed my wrist."
"You were about to trip over a box."
"I was not."
"You were."
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
"…That is irrelevant."
He stepped closer again.
Now she was dangerously near the edge of his desk.
"And yet," he said quietly, "you came to me."
She swallowed.
"I came to confront you."
"You came to me for answers."
Her throat tightened.
"That's not the same thing."
"It is."
Silence stretched between them.
Her pulse thudded.
His gaze was steady.
Unblinking.
Infuriatingly calm.
"You intimidate people," she blurted suddenly.
"That is not my problem."
"It should be."
"Why?"
"Because it's rude."
He blinked.
"Intimidation is not inherently rude."
"It is when you do it with your face."
"My face?"
"Yes. It's very… structured."
He stared at her.
"Structured."
"Yes. Like it was carved by someone who enjoys power."
A pause.
"…That might be the strangest compliment I've received."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"It sounded like one."
"It wasn't."
"You are flustered."
"I am not flustered!"
"You are rambling."
"I am strategically expressing frustration."
"You are rambling."
She gasped.
"I am not rambling."
"You are now discussing my bone structure."
She snapped her mouth shut.
He had a point.
Which she hated.
Kael Draven wouldn't allow anyone beneath him argue with him yet here he was, exchanging words with his intriguing personal assistant. He chuckled faintly.
Her stomach growled loudly.
Again.
Silence.
She closed her eyes briefly.
"This is not happening."
"You did not eat."
"That is none of your business."
"You work for me. It is technically my business if you faint mid-task."
"I was not going to faint!"
"You look pale."
"I am dramatic, not pale."
He walked back to his desk.
Opened a drawer.
Pulled out a small wrapped snack.
Placed it in front of her.
She stared at it.
"…Is this a bribe?"
"It is food."
"I am not easily bribed."
"You are visibly hungry."
She hesitated.
Then grabbed it.
"This changes nothing."
"I am aware."
She took a bite.
He watched her.
Unapologetically.
"Why are you staring?"
"You are mid-interrogation and chewing aggressively."
"I do not chew aggressively."
"You do."
She swallowed.
"You're impossible."
"And yet," he said smoothly, "you sought me out."
She froze.
Because again—
He wasn't wrong.
Her heart skipped.
Annoying organ.
"Did you send the texts?" she asked quietly.
He met her gaze fully now.
"No."
Not defensive.
Not rushed.
Just calm.
Too calm.
She studied his face.
Searching for cracks.
For tells.
For anything.
Nothing.
Just those grey eyes.
Steady.
Focused entirely on her.
"Then why does it feel like you're always there when something happens?" she whispered.
His voice dropped slightly.
"Because I pay attention."
"To me?"
"Yes."
Her breath caught.
"That's not comforting."
"It is not meant to be."
Silence.
Again.
But softer now.
Less sharp.
More charged.
"If someone is watching you," he said quietly, "they will regret it."
Her stomach flipped.
"That sounds threatening."
"It is."
"To who?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Just held her gaze.
"To anyone who assumes proximity to you."
Her pulse stumbled.
Proximity.
That word did things.
Dangerous things.
"You're not helping your case," she whispered.
"I am not attempting to."
She stared at him.
He stared back.
And suddenly—
The mug felt small.
The texts felt distant.
And the real problem wasn't whether he sent them.
The real problem was that standing this close to him made her forget why she was angry in the first place.
Which was unacceptable.
She stepped back quickly.
"I am not scared of you."
He didn't move.
"I did not ask you to be."
"I will figure out who's sending those messages."
"I know."
"And I don't need protection."
A pause.
"That remains to be seen."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you always this controlling?"
"Yes."
At least he was honest.
She sighed dramatically.
"This is the worst internship in history."
"Most interns do not storm into their CEO's office accusing him of conspiracy."
"Most CEOs do not lurk near storage rooms."
"I was not lurking."
"You were lurking adjacent."
He almost smiled again.
Almost.
"You are exhausting."
"And you are suspiciously calm."
"It is a skill."
"It's annoying."
"You are still here."
She blinked.
He wasn't wrong.
Again.
Why was he always right?
That was deeply inconvenient.
She grabbed the mug again.
"I am not done investigating."
"I would be disappointed if you were."
She paused.
"You're enjoying this."
"Yes."
Her jaw dropped.
"You're unbelievable."
"And you are entertaining."
"I am not entertainment."
"You are when you are angry."
She pointed at him.
"That is manipulative."
"That is observation." he corrected.
She huffed.
"I am leaving."
"Very well."
She turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
Then turned back.
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"If I find out you're involved in this…"
His eyes darkened slightly.
"You will what?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
"…I will be very upset."
He stared at her.
Then—
He laughed.
Soft.
Low.
Unfairly attractive.
Her traitorous heart did something dramatic again.
She yanked the door open.
"I am not intimidated!"
"You are."
"I am not!"
"You forgot the mug."
She looked down.
Still holding it.
"…That's not the point."
And she walked out.
Heart racing.
Mind spinning.
Completely unaware—
That behind her,
Kael Draven's expression shifted.
The calm disappeared.
Replaced by something colder.
Something calculating.
Because whoever was watching her…
Had just made a mistake.