The third floor buzzed with the low hum of productivity—printers whirring, keyboards clicking, phones occasionally ringing with that polished tone that belonged to corporate rhythm.
Luca leaned over Bella's desk, reviewing the client's follow-up report on her screen.
His tie was slightly askew, his sleeves rolled up—that usual blend of confidence and barely controlled chaos that somehow worked for him.
Bella clicked her pen and gave him a look. "You're hovering again."
"I'm supervising," Luca countered, peering closer. "That's part of being team."
"Supervising or micromanaging?" she said dryly, leaning back. "Because if you breathe down my neck one more time, I'll start charging you rent."
He grinned. "You'd miss me if I stopped."
"Debatable." She raised a brow. "You're only charming when you bring coffee."
"Then I'll bring two tomorrow," he said, pretending to jot it down on his notepad. "'Operation Keep Bella Civil: Step One—Caffeine.'"
