HERMIONE
Hermione was drowning in paperwork, her head buried in the chaos of contracts and legal briefs. The office was quiet—eerily so. The only sounds were the hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic tapping of her fingers against the keyboard. It was supposed to be a normal Monday. A busy one, sure, but nothing she couldn't handle.
Yet, her mind refused to cooperate.
No matter how hard she tried to focus, memories of the weekend with Dylan kept intruding. His hands. His lips. The way he looked at her like she was both a puzzle and the only answer he'd ever needed. Being with him had left her unsteady, caught in a whirlwind of emotions she wasn't ready to name.
So, she did what she always did when she felt like she was slipping—she worked. Drowning herself in briefs and clauses was easier than confronting the firestorm brewing inside her chest.
Then came a knock at the door.
"Come in," she called without looking up, assuming it was one of her associates with an update.
The door creaked open. Vanessa, her assistant, stepped inside, wearing a look Hermione couldn't quite place—part surprise, part caution.
"Uh... Mrs. Voss is here to see you," Vanessa said, her voice soft and uncertain.
Hermione's fingers froze mid-keystroke.
"Mrs. Voss?" she repeated, lifting her head sharply. "As in Dylan's mother?"
Vanessa nodded. "Yes. She says she wants to speak with you. She's... already in the building."
Hermione's heart skipped, then raced. This wasn't the plan. Dylan had told her he'd introduce them—when the time was right. But this? This was unannounced, unscheduled, and completely unprepared for.
She drew a breath, forcing calm into her voice. "Let her in."
Moments later, the door opened again. In walked Mrs. Voss.
Impeccable.
Graceful.
Dangerous.
Dressed in a fitted navy dress and a string of pearls, she moved like a woman who knew her power and had no need to announce it. Her posture was regal, her eyes sharp and assessing.
Hermione rose to greet her. "Mrs. Voss. This is a surprise. I wasn't expecting you today."
A smile touched Mrs. Voss's lips—but it was the kind that didn't quite reach the eyes. "I couldn't wait any longer to meet you, Hermione. I've heard so much about you." She paused, gaze sweeping over her. "I thought it was time to see for myself the woman who's been occupying so much of my son's time."
Hermione's stomach fluttered with unease. So much of his time. What had Dylan said to her? And why did this feel less like a meeting and more like a trial?
"Please, have a seat," Hermione offered, motioning to the chairs across from her desk.
Mrs. Voss sat with the grace of royalty, crossing one leg over the other. Her presence filled the space, tilting the room's balance entirely in her direction.
"I must admit," she began, her voice smooth like velvet but with a razor's edge, "you've made quite the impression. Dylan doesn't let people in easily."
"I didn't realize I was a topic of conversation," Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Oh, you are. Dylan talks about you more than he realizes." Her lips curved slightly. "A lawyer. Head of Legal at Voss Enterprises. That's no small feat. You're clearly... competent."
Hermione knew a compliment when she heard one—and an evaluation disguised as praise.
"I do my best," she said, choosing her words carefully. "It's a challenging role, but I enjoy the responsibility."
Mrs. Voss tilted her head, studying her. "I'm sure you do. But I'm curious about something else."
Hermione braced herself.
"What is it," Mrs. Voss asked, leaning forward, her voice low and probing, "that makes Dylan want to stay with you?"
The question was disarming in its bluntness.
"I don't think he's trying to 'stay' or 'leave,'" Hermione said, keeping her tone even. "We've found something good between us. Whatever it is... it feels real."
Mrs. Voss didn't blink. "Dylan doesn't do real, Hermione. He does power. Control. Strategy. So if he's opening himself to you, it means something."
The scrutiny in her gaze faltered—just slightly—and Hermione caught a flicker of something else. Concern. Hope, maybe. Love, veiled beneath steel.
"I want the best for him," Hermione said softly. "And I believe he wants the same for me."
A beat passed before Mrs. Voss nodded. Slowly. "Good answer."
Then, in a tone less sharp and more thoughtful, she added, "Dylan needs someone who sees him—not just the version the world worships. He needs someone who won't flinch when he shows the darker parts."
Hermione met her gaze. "I don't flinch."
That seemed to please Mrs. Voss. Her expression softened. She sat back, more relaxed now. "Good. Because I'm tired of watching him go through women who only see the surface."
Hermione allowed herself a small smile.
Then Mrs. Voss leaned in again, her eyes gleaming. "Now, tell me, Hermione... What is it about Dylan that has you so captivated?"
The breath caught in Hermione's chest.
"He's... complex," she began. "He's intense, yes. But he's also thoughtful in ways people don't expect. He listens. He sees things others overlook. There's a gravity to him, but also a gentleness—one he doesn't even realize he shows."
Mrs. Voss blinked slowly, as though caught off-guard by the sincerity in Hermione's voice.
"I see," she murmured. "That's... more than I expected."
A pause lingered before she stood, smoothing the front of her dress. "I think it's time you and I had a little fun."
Hermione blinked. "Fun?"
Mrs. Voss smiled, this time with a touch of mischief. "Come with me to Dylan's office. I want to show you something. And after that... we're going shopping."
"Shopping?" Hermione echoed, startled.
Mrs. Voss turned, arching an elegant brow. "It's not every day I get the chance to shop for a future daughter-in-law."
The words hit Hermione like a warm breeze. She wasn't sure what to say.
Mrs. Voss must have seen the hesitation, because she added gently, "I always wanted a daughter. But Dylan... Well, he was always my only. So I've waited for this—someone I could spoil. Connect with."
Hermione felt something shift inside her. This woman—so composed, so formidable—was offering more than approval. She was offering a connection.
"Then I suppose," Hermione said, rising with a slow smile, "I could use a few new pieces."
Mrs. Voss grinned. "Good girl. Let's go surprise my son, shall we?"
As they walked out together, side by side, Hermione realized something surprising:
This might actually be the beginning of something good.