Elina sat at her office desk the next morning, staring at the same quarterly report she'd read twice without absorbing a single word. Her assistant had brought her a latte, her inbox was neatly sorted, and yet her focus was nowhere to be found.
All she could think about was Aidan.
The quiet intensity of his voice. The way his thumb had brushed against her jaw. How she'd walked away instead of leaning in.
Why did it feel like a mistake now?
She closed her laptop, pressing her fingers to her temples.
"Elina?" It was Cora, peeking in cautiously.
Elina dropped her hands. "Yes?"
"The board meeting starts in fifteen. They're waiting for your notes."
Elina nodded quickly. "I'll bring them. Thanks."
Cora lingered. "You okay?"
"Fine," Elina replied, a touch too quickly.
Once Cora left, Elina opened the locked drawer of her desk and pulled out the hardcopy files she needed. Her hands were steady, but her heart wasn't. It was like her emotional compass had cracked in the wake of last night's dinner.
What scared her most wasn't Aidan's words—it was how much she wanted to believe them.
---
The boardroom smelled like lemon polish and ambition. She entered in heels that echoed confidence, wearing a navy blazer sharp enough to draw blood.
As she presented the updated projections and strategic acquisitions list, her voice didn't falter. The board listened. No one questioned her authority. No one dared.
But one of the new faces, Mr. Reynolds—a recent investor—smiled a little too long. "You've done an impressive job, Ms. Lane."
"Thank you."
"And now with KnightCorp's partnership," he added, tone light but probing, "we're expecting smoother waters."
A flicker of heat traced her spine.
"KnightCorp is one of many partnerships," Elina replied coolly. "Our strength was built independently and remains so."
Reynolds nodded, his smile tightening. He was testing her. And she had no intention of letting him sniff weakness.
As the meeting concluded, she gathered her papers swiftly, resisting the urge to check her phone.
She wouldn't text Aidan first.
She wouldn't.
---
Back in her office, she sat down, only to find a text already waiting.
Aidan: Are you free for lunch? I'll come to you.
She stared at it.
Her thumb hovered over the screen, then typed:
Elina: Busy today.
A minute passed.
Aidan: Then I'll wait. I'm not in a hurry.
Her breath caught. He wasn't giving up, was he?
Elina locked her phone and forced herself to return to work. But that same quiet storm brewed inside her—pulling her toward the very man she'd tried to shut out.
---
Later that day, she stepped out for a moment of quiet, heading up to the rooftop garden. A project she'd funded herself when the company moved into the building. It was her escape.
The city sprawled in every direction, alive and indifferent.
And then—footsteps.
She didn't have to turn around to know.
"Persistent," she murmured.
"You didn't say no. Just 'busy,'" Aidan replied, his voice behind her.
She turned to face him. He was dressed casually—no suit, just a crisp white shirt and slate gray slacks—but he still looked every inch the commanding CEO.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I disagree," he said, stepping closer. "You didn't answer my question last night."
"What question?"
"Whether you're afraid of me... or of what you feel."
The wind brushed her hair across her cheek. She didn't move.
"I don't like people invading my space."
"Then tell me to leave."
She didn't.
Aidan took one more step, close enough now that she could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the earnest storm in his eyes.
"You scare me," she said finally. "Because you see things I don't want anyone to see."
He nodded slowly. "Then let me be the one person who sees it all—and doesn't run."
And for a moment, the distance between them didn't feel so wide anymore.
Elina didn't know how to respond. Her instinct was always to retreat—to return to silence and cold efficiency. But Aidan's presence made that impossible. He wasn't like the others who tried to win her over with charm or brute force. He came in quiet, stayed patient, and listened.
And that… that was what made him dangerous.
She sat down on the stone bench, letting the wind play with her hair. "Do you think all this is worth it?"
Aidan took a seat beside her. "Define 'this.'"
"Whatever this thing is between us. Is it worth the risks? The complications?"
He studied her face for a long moment. "It is for me. Every time I walk into a room and see you, I know it is."
She looked down at her hands. They were steady, even when she didn't feel that way. "What if it's not for me?"
"I'll still be here," he said softly. "I'll still choose you."
Elina closed her eyes. It was overwhelming—this kind of vulnerability. She'd built an empire by staying composed, sharp, untouchable. But here he was, slowly unraveling everything she thought she needed to be.
"You don't know what you're signing up for," she murmured.
"Then show me," he replied. "Let me see all of it—the good, the bad, the scars you try to hide."
She turned to him then, really looking. The man who could destroy her career with a single leaked file… and yet, the same man who now looked like he'd break before he'd ever try to hurt her.
"I'm not used to this," she whispered.
"Neither am I."
A breath passed between them. Stillness. Realness.
She didn't move closer. She didn't kiss him. But she didn't send him away either.
And for Aidan Knight, that was more than enough.
---
The next morning, Elina arrived at work early. She reviewed quarterly trends, ran through marketing data, and prepared for the acquisition pitch coming up at noon.
She was in control again—or so she told herself.
Until the intercom buzzed.
"Ma'am," said Amelia, her assistant. "You might want to come down to the lobby. There's someone here asking for you."
Elina frowned. "A client?"
"No, ma'am. It's… a woman. She says she knows Mr. Knight. Personally."
Elina's pulse kicked.
"I'll be right there."
---
The lobby was bright with mid-morning sun, the hum of city life just beyond the glass doors. Elina spotted her immediately.
The woman was tall, stunning, with chestnut waves and sharp cheekbones. Dressed in a sleek black pantsuit, she exuded elegance—and familiarity.
She turned the moment Elina stepped closer.
"You must be Elina," the woman said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"And you are?"
"Isla." She extended a hand. "Isla Maren. Aidan's former fiancée."