Cold light from the fading day streamed through the panoramic windows, casting long shadows across the sleek interior. Kael sat behind the massive desk, his eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. The screen reflected a faint gleam from the lamp above, creating the illusion that someone unseen was about to press the call button.
He hated asking for help — especially from family.
Especially from him.
But right now, there was no other choice.
The last time, his uncle hadn't even answered, leaving Kael questioning whether it was worth trying again.
He exhaled sharply, tapped the screen, and lifted the phone to his ear.
One ring. Two.
On the third, a lively voice filled the silence.
"Well, well. Kael? Is that really you? Or should I get my hearing checked?"
Kael closed his eyes briefly, forcing down the irritation.
"Hello."
"Yeah, yeah, hello to you too. Do you even remember the last time you called me? Or are you suddenly feeling family-oriented?"
He ignored the teasing tone.
"I have a business matter."
The voice on the other end went quiet for a moment.
"A business matter?" — curiosity replaced amusement. — "Interesting. Go on."
"I need information about someone who might be connected to a competitor."
"Usually your mother handles these things. Why the personal interest this time?"
Kael's fingers tightened around the armrest.
"It's important. Can you help or not?"
"Relax, nephew. Just asking. Give me the name."
"Sofi Laurent."
There was a pause. The name lingered between them.
"Laurent... sounds familiar. You sure she's linked to your rival?"
"Not yet. That's why I need the information."
"Alright. Family, business, history — everything?"
"Everything. And do it quietly. No one can know. Especially my mother."
"Ah, secrecy. Now you've really got my attention. What's this about — a test?"
Kael paused.
"No. She's just... focused on other things right now. You know how she is."
"I do. And I'd rather not end up on her bad side."
"Exactly."
"Alright then. Give me some time. I'll find what I can."
"I'll wait."
"Take care, kid."
The line went dead.
Kael slowly set the phone down, lacing his fingers together as he stared at the screen. It was a risky move — but there was no turning back.
The weight of the conversation still pressed on him, thoughts colliding in his mind. He needed a distraction.
Maybe... her.
He stood, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he walked to the door. When it opened, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.
Auren was sitting at her desk, her head resting over a stack of papers. Loose strands of hair framed her face, and the soft glow of the lamp painted her features in warm, sleepy tones. Her eyes were closed, breathing calm — she'd fallen asleep.
Kael stepped closer, quietly, his gaze studying her.
Her fingers still held the pencil. The page beneath was half-filled with notes. She'd clearly worked until exhaustion claimed her.
Something in his chest softened. The tension of the day began to dissolve, replaced by a strange stillness.
A few strands of hair slipped over her face. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed them aside, his fingertips grazing her cheek — slow, delicate, almost reverent.
He could have stepped back.
But he didn't.
His gaze dropped — to her lips, slightly parted, to the steady rhythm of her breathing. For a fleeting moment, he let himself feel.
Pulling a chair closer, he sat, resting his arms on its back, facing her. She didn't stir.
He studied her face — calmly, almost clinically, yet something in his eyes betrayed him.
This was a side of her he'd never seen before. Peaceful. Unarmed.
He sighed quietly.
"How can you fall asleep like that?" — he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible.
Still, he didn't leave. He couldn't.
There was something magnetic about her stillness, something that drew him in.
He lifted his hand again, tracing her cheek with the back of his fingers. The warmth of her skin under his touch sent a ripple through him. His thumb brushed along her jaw, pausing near the corner of her lips.
Auren stirred, took a slow breath, and blinked her eyes open.
For a few seconds, her gaze was unfocused — then she saw him.
Kael.
Sitting right in front of her. Too close.
His hand was still on her face.
She blinked sleepily, a faint, drowsy smile forming on her lips — warm, genuine, unaware.
That smile disarmed him.
"Kael..." — her voice came out soft, husky with sleep.
He should've said something, anything to explain himself.
But he didn't. Words would only break the spell.
"Sorry," — she murmured, rubbing her eyes. — "I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"Why are you apologizing?" — he asked quietly, meeting her gaze.
"I... don't know. I guess I'm used to it. If work stopped, I always had to say sorry."
Her voice carried something fragile — a memory buried too deep.
"When I was a kid," — she added softly, — "I was punished whenever I failed or stopped. I learned to think everything was my fault."
Kael's hand clenched. Her words cut deeper than she knew.
He leaned forward, unable to speak — and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. It wasn't passion, but comfort — a wordless promise that she didn't have to apologize anymore.
When he pulled back, her eyes were open, shining faintly in the dim light.
Her lips parted, just a little.
Grateful. Vulnerable.
And before either could think, he kissed her — gently, yet with all the warmth he had been holding back.
It was a kiss that spoke of healing. Of regret. Of silent understanding.
When he drew away, she smiled faintly.
"Your kisses..." — she whispered, — "they heal my wounds."
The words struck him like lightning.
He reached for her hand, his voice barely steady.
"I just... I can't stand seeing you in pain."
"And I don't want you to see it," — she replied softly. — "But sometimes... you make it hurt less."
Their eyes met, heavy with something unspoken.
"You're driving me crazy, Auren," — Kael finally admitted, his voice low, rough with honesty.
She smiled, teasing but warm.
"Oh, really? You're not alone in that, you know."
She took his hands, guiding them off the chair, and slipped gracefully onto his seat — claiming the space with quiet confidence.
He raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Move over," — she said, half-command, half-laugh.
He did — barely.
Her closeness was electric.
He leaned in, his breath catching.
"This was always your place," — he murmured.
And then their lips met again — this time deeper, fiercer, as if neither could contain what had been building for too long.
But as his hands traced her skin, his mind caught a memory — her voice, saying once, "I don't want my first time to be in an office. It should be special."
That memory hit him like a wave.
He stopped.
The world froze around them.
He stepped back, breathing hard, fighting the pull of desire.
"I'm sorry," — he whispered, voice strained. — "I shouldn't have..."
Auren opened her eyes, confused by the sudden distance.
"Why did you stop?" — she asked softly.
"Because I remember what you said," — his voice was low, careful. — "Your first time should mean something. Not... here."
Her expression softened. The warmth in his restraint touched her deeper than the kiss itself.
She rose, closed the space between them, and laid her hand over his heart.
"Thank you for remembering," — she said quietly. — "I won't lie... I didn't really want you to stop. But you're right. It should be special."
She leaned in, brushed her lips against his — a kiss of gratitude, not desire.
Warm. Gentle. Healing.