Her phone buzzed at half past ten.
She almost didn't pick up.
Late. She had already changed out of her work clothes and was sitting cross legged on her bed with absolutely no intention of moving.
She picked up.
"Eve."
His voice was different immediately. Still him , still that low controlled tone , but something underneath it was looser. Like a knot that had been tied very tight and someone had finally pulled one end.
"Sir?" she said.
"Come to the office."
She sat up slowly.
"It's ten thirty," she said carefully.
"I know what time it is."
A pause.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Silence on his end. The kind that answered the question without answering it.
"Come to the office Eve," he said again.
She was already reaching for her jacket.
The building was quiet at this hour.
Security nodded her through without question. She took the private elevator to the top floor and stepped into the office.
Dark. Empty. Just the city blazing through the glass.
She looked around.
"Ethan?"
Nothing.
She stepped further in. His jacket was on the back of his chair. His phone on the desk. A bottle on the side table told her he had been here a while.
"Ethan?"
A light under the door at the back of the office.
She crossed to it and knocked.
"Sir? Are you.."
"Come in Eve."
She pushed the door open.
And stopped.
This was not a bathroom.
She stood in the doorway looking at a full bedroom. Properly furnished. A large bed neatly made. A closet running the entire length of one wall, lined with suits, shirts, robes, everything arranged with the same precision as everything else connected to him. A separate bathroom door beyond that. Soft lighting. The kind of space that looked lived in.
She had worked outside that office for months.
She had no idea this existed.
"You have a whole room in here," she said.
Ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed, jacket off, tie loosened, a glass in his hand. He looked up at her with that looser version of his expression she had only heard through the phone.
"Close the door," he said.
She did. Then looked around again.
"This whole time," she said. "There's been a bedroom behind your office."
"Yes."
"A whole bedroom."
"Eve."
"With a closet."
"Are you done?"
She looked at him. "I'm processing."
Something pulled at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. But close enough to surprise her.
She came further into the room and sat in the chair across from where he was on the bed.
"Why did you call me here?" she asked.
He looked at his glass for a moment.
"Claire said something to you today," he said.
Eve kept her expression easy. "She introduced herself."
"Don't do that," he said.
She looked at him.
"Don't make it smaller than it was," he said. "I know how she talks to people."
Eve was quiet for a moment.
"She warned me to stay within my limits," she said.
He exhaled slowly. Set the glass down on the bedside table.
"You don't have limits," he said. "Not ones she gets to set."
Eve looked at him carefully.
"You're drunk," she said.
"I'm honest," he said. "There's a difference." He met her eyes. "I mean what I said."
She held his gaze.
"Why does it matter to you what she said to me?" she asked quietly.
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because it shouldn't have happened," he said. "She had no right."
"She's your wife."
"On paper," he said flatly. "That's where it starts and ends."
Eve looked at him for a long moment.
"Ethan," she said carefully. "What are we doing right now?"
He looked at her directly.
"I don't know," he said. "But I didn't want to be here alone tonight."
Simple. Honest. The kind of sentence that cost something to say.
Something in Eve shifted. That careful warm easy version of herself she wore like a second skin loosened without her permission.
"Tell me something true," he said suddenly.
She looked at him. "About what?"
"Anything," he said. "Something you wouldn't say in the office."
She was quiet for a moment.
In her head she was already looking for something safe. Something that felt true without being dangerous.
But his eyes were steady on her and the hour was late and his walls were down further than she had ever seen them.
"I get lonely," she said quietly. "More than I show."
He held her gaze.
"Yeah," he said. "Me too."
A pause.
"You?" she said. "You have an entire world around you."
"Having people around you and not being lonely are two different things," he said.
She looked at him.
"You know that," he added quietly. "I think that's something we have in common."
She didn't deny it.
"The file said you were an orphan," he said after a moment.
Her chest tightened slightly.
"Your file said the same," she said carefully.
He nodded slowly. "It did."
A pause.
"Is that why you called me tonight?" she asked. "Because you thought we'd understand each other?"
"I called you tonight," he said, "because you're the only person I wanted to talk to."
The room was very quiet after that.
Eve sat with it.
With all of it.
The city outside kept moving. The office beyond the door sat empty and dark.
And in this room that she hadn't known existed until twenty minutes ago, sitting across from a man she was supposed to be gathering information on ...
She realized she had completely forgotten to be careful.
She stood slowly. Smoothed her jacket.
He walked her to the office door himself. Stopped just before it.
She turned.
He was closer than she expected.
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Stay," he said.
Simple. Direct. No performance behind it.
In her head a voice that sounded a lot like Kelvin ran the calculation immediately. She was already here. He was already open in a way he never was during working hours. This was exactly the kind of access the mission needed.
Refusing made no sense professionally.
She knew all of that.
She also knew that the reason she wanted to stay had nothing to do with Kelvin.
And that was the problem.
"I can't," she said.
He looked at her steadily.
"Can't," he repeated. "Or won't."
She didn't answer that.
He stepped slightly closer.
Not aggressive. Not rushed. Just closing the distance the way he did everything. With certainty.
She stood her ground.
These days she had noticed something happening that she couldn't afford to notice.
Around him the careful constructed version of herself felt thinner. Less reliable. Like a coat that had been worn too many times in the wrong weather.
Eve Voss was supposed to be the one standing in this room.
But it was starting to feel like Ayra Zeus who kept showing up instead.
He was doing that. Without even knowing it. Slowly and quietly pulling at something she had spent months building.
His hand came up slowly.
She saw it coming and didn't move.
His fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her face up slightly.
Then he leaned in.
She turned her head.
His lips landed at the corner of her jaw instead.
He stilled.
Pulled back just enough to look at her.
"Lik cat I want to taste your lips again," he said quietly.
The words landed in her chest like something physical.
Again.
He had said again.
She froze.
Every piece of training she had. Every wall Kelvin had helped her build. Every reminder of who she was supposed to be in this building.
All of it went completely quiet.
For exactly three seconds she just stood there.
Then she stepped back.
One step. Enough to break the moment without breaking it completely.
"Goodnight Ethan," she said.
Her voice was steady.
She was proud of that.
She turned and walked out before he could say anything else. Through the dark office, into the hallway, into the elevator.
The doors closed.
She exhaled.
Her back against the elevator wall, eyes on the ceiling, descending slowly through the building.
She pressed her fingers to the side of her jaw where his lips had been.
Kelvin would say she should have stayed. That this was exactly what the mission required. That she was letting personal feelings compromise professional judgment.
She knew that.
But for the first time since she had become Eve Voss ...
She didn't care what Kelvin would say.
And that terrified her more than anything else.