The next few weeks unfolded like a quiet storm.
Subtle, yet deeply felt.
Caliste went about her work with her usual grace, her professionalism unshaken. Yet beneath her calm demeanor, there was something else stirring — something even she couldn't ignore anymore.
Everywhere she turned, Caelum was there — not intrusive, but constant, like sunlight streaming through cracks she once sealed shut. He never demanded her attention, yet somehow always had it. When she laughed, he was often the reason.
And Lucian noticed.
He noticed everything.
---
It started during a quarterly executive meeting.
Caliste was presenting the upcoming luxury campaign — her voice steady, eyes focused on the screen — while Lucian sat at the head of the table, impassive as always.
Caelum, seated across from her, was the only one whose expression was openly admiring.
When Caliste pointed out her concept designs, Caelum leaned forward, a small, approving smile curving his lips. "That's brilliant," he murmured under his breath — but loud enough for the others, including Lucian, to hear.
Lucian's pen froze midair.
He glanced toward his cousin, then at Caliste, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. No one else seemed to notice the faint tension humming between them, but Caliste did. She could feel the weight of Lucian's stare even after she stepped down from the podium.
When the meeting ended, Lucian dismissed everyone — except Caelum.
---
The conference room emptied quickly, the sound of closing doors echoing through the glass walls.
Lucian leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, his tone calm — deceptively so.
"You've been quite… interested in the creative department lately."
Caelum smirked slightly. "It's the company's heart, isn't it? You said yourself creativity fuels innovation."
Lucian's gaze sharpened. "Don't quote me to hide your intentions."
Caelum met his stare evenly. "What intentions?"
"You tell me," Lucian said flatly. "You've been spending a great deal of time around Caliste Winslow."
The air thickened, silent but charged.
Caelum's lips curved, not in defiance — but amusement. "So this is about Caliste."
Lucian's tone cooled further. "I'm reminding you that she's my employee, not another one of your flings."
Caelum laughed softly — a low, unbothered sound. "Flings? You make me sound like a reckless teenager, cousin." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I'll admit something though — I admire her."
Lucian's expression darkened. "Don't."
"I can't help it." Caelum's voice softened, but his eyes gleamed with quiet conviction. "I've admired her since the first day I met her — back when she was still designing for smaller labels. She has… strength. A rare kind."
Lucian's jaw clenched. "Whatever history you think you had with her, let it go. She's not someone you can toy with."
Caelum's amusement faded. "And you think you're the one who can?"
The question hung in the air like a blade.
Lucian stood, his height imposing, his tone icy. "Be careful, Caelum. You're treading into something you don't understand."
Caelum rose too, refusing to yield. "On the contrary, I understand perfectly. You're not angry because I'm interested in her — you're angry because you still are."
Lucian's silence was telling. His hands tightened at his sides, his gaze turning cold enough to freeze.
"She's free to choose," Caelum continued. "And if she'll let me, I'll pursue her — openly. I'm not ashamed of that."
Lucian's voice lowered, dangerously calm. "Don't test me."
Caelum smiled faintly. "Then maybe you should stop pretending you don't care."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
When Caelum finally left the room, Lucian remained there — still, expression unreadable, but his pulse thrummed with fury and something far more dangerous: jealousy.
---
That evening, Caliste stayed behind at her office, finalizing sketches. The building had grown quiet, lights dimmed, and the hum of the city beyond the glass windows filled the silence.
She didn't expect anyone to be around — until a soft knock echoed on her door.
"Miss Winslow?"
Caelum stood there, holding a small box of pastries. "Peace offering. You skipped lunch again."
Caliste blinked, momentarily thrown off. "You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to." He set the box on her table, smiling lightly. "Besides, if I'm going to keep showing up in your department, I should at least bring tributes."
She shook her head, laughing softly. "You really have a way of making things sound less serious than they are."
"Maybe because everyone around here takes life too seriously," he replied, his gaze briefly lingering on her tired eyes. "Including you."
"I have deadlines," she reasoned, turning back to her screen.
"And I have excuses," he said, settling into the seat across from her. "See? We're not that different."
She tried not to smile but failed. "You're impossible."
"Persistent," he corrected gently.
A beat of silence passed. Caliste looked at him — really looked at him this time. The faint dimples when he smiled, the warmth in his tone, the sincerity in his eyes that didn't try to hide behind charm.
"Caelum," she began, "why are you really doing this?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Doing what?"
"Spending time here. Talking to me. You don't even work in this division."
He leaned forward, his expression earnest. "You want honesty?"
"Yes."
Caelum's gaze softened. "Then here it is — because I can't stop thinking about you. And because for the first time in years, I've found someone who makes me want to slow down and mean something."
Caliste froze, her pulse quickening.
"Don't say that," she murmured. "You don't know me that well."
"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I'd like to."
Before she could respond, the door opened — and Lucian walked in.
---
He stopped at the sight before him — Caelum sitting comfortably across Caliste's desk, the soft glow of the lamp outlining her features, and the faint trace of a smile still lingering on her lips.
The air shifted instantly.
"Working late, Miss Winslow?" Lucian's tone was controlled, though his eyes flicked briefly to Caelum.
"Yes," Caliste replied, quickly standing. "Mr. Vellaria was just—"
"Leaving," Lucian finished flatly.
Caelum stood, his expression unbothered but eyes knowing. "Of course. But before I go—" he turned to Caliste, lowering his voice just enough for Lucian to hear — "don't skip dinner again."
Then he left, the door closing softly behind him.
Silence hung heavy in his absence.
Lucian's gaze lingered on the closed door before returning to her. "You seem… comfortable around him."
Caliste frowned. "He's been helping with some design consultations. It's strictly professional."
Lucian stepped closer, his voice low. "Is that what you tell yourself?"
Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He met her gaze — cold, unreadable, but tinged with something deeper. "Caelum has a reputation. Don't let his charm fool you."
"I'm not easily fooled," she said sharply.
"Weren't you, once?"
That struck a nerve.
Caliste's breath hitched, pain flashing across her face. "That's unfair."
Lucian's expression softened slightly, regret flickering before he masked it again. "Just be careful. Not everyone deserves your trust."
"And who decides that?" she whispered. "You?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he looked at her — really looked at her — and for a fleeting moment, all the distance between them collapsed. The memories, the ache, the history they both tried to bury rose like ghosts in the room.
"Goodnight, Miss Winslow," he finally said, his tone unreadable.
When he left, Caliste stood frozen, her heart torn between two storms — one that burned steady and new, and another that never truly died.
---
Outside the building, Caelum waited near the parking lot, leaning against his car. He watched as Lucian exited the building, his expression unreadable under the streetlights.
Lucian stopped when he saw him.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Caelum," he warned quietly.
Caelum straightened. "If caring for someone is a game, then I'm willing to lose."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "You're forgetting your place."
Caelum's tone hardened, though his gaze remained calm. "No, Lucian. For once, I think I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Lucian said nothing — only turned away, walking toward his car.
But the storm brewing between them was far from over.
Because for the first time, Lucian Velmore realized what it meant to lose control — not to power, not to business, but to something far more human: jealousy.
And Caliste, unknowingly, had become the fragile center of a brewing war between blood and desire.