The click of Elias's pen echoed in the quiet room.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
He didn't even realize he was doing it — until Kai leaned against the doorframe of his office with a smirk tugging at his mouth.
"You're going to snap that poor pen in half, Capo."
Elias looked up briefly, then dropped the pen with a quiet sigh.
Kai stepped in, crossing the room lazily and dropping into the leather chair opposite the desk, arms folded. "You've been like this for days. And don't give me the 'company matters' excuse — I've seen you juggle cartel negotiations with less tension than you're carrying now."
Elias didn't respond. He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on a spot on the ceiling like it might provide answers.
Kai studied him for a beat longer, then huffed a laugh. "Let me guess. Miss Zaman gave you another one of her perfectly professional, soul-piercing cold stares?"
Elias didn't rise to the bait.
Didn't smirk.
Didn't retort.
Didn't even look annoyed.
Kai's grin faded a little.
"Alright, now I'm actually worried. This might be serious."
Elias finally spoke, voice low, as if dragging something out of his chest.
"She doesn't look at me anymore."
Kai blinked. "What?"
"She doesn't look at me. She… used to. Even when she was guarded — there was always something in her eyes. But now…" Elias trailed off, jaw tightening.
Kai sat up straighter. The humor drained from his expression, replaced by something more thoughtful.
"You think she's doing it on purpose?"
Elias shook his head slowly. "I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe she's just… finally seen something in me she was trying not to."
Kai leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Elias. You're many things. A strategist. A protector. A ruthless negotiator. But when it comes to her, you're an absolute coward."
That earned Elias's glare.
Kai raised his hands. "I say it with love."
Elias stayed silent.
Kai's voice softened. "Look, you can't keep watching her like she's some untouchable constellation and expect her to understand what you feel. You don't even admit what you feel."
"I don't know what it is," Elias muttered.
Kai frowned. "You do. You're just scared to name it."
He stood, adjusting his jacket, tone firmer now. "So figure it out. Fast. Before someone else does. Or worse — before she disappears behind that wall forever and you'll never get another chance."
Elias looked away.
Not because Kai was wrong.
But because deep down… he feared he was already too late.
The door clicked shut behind Kai, but his words lingered like smoke.
Before someone else does.
Before she disappears behind that wall forever.
Elias sat unmoving for a long moment, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, elbows resting on the desk.
There were no meetings scheduled. No business emergencies — at least none that couldn't wait.
And yet…
He reached forward and tapped the intercom.
"Martina," he said evenly, "Arrange a department update meeting. All project leads. I want it on my schedule by the afternoon."
"Yes, Mr. Sinclair," came the assistant's crisp reply.
He ended the call and stood, sliding his watch onto his wrist — movements practiced, sharp. On the surface, he looked composed. But beneath it… something was unraveling.
He wasn't calling this meeting for logistics.
Not for deliverables.
Not even for appearances.
He just needed to see her.
Even if she looked through him.
Even if she lowered her gaze.
Even if her voice was that perfectly polite kind that made her feel like a stranger.
Elias hated the distance. Not the physical one — he could cross a room in seconds.
It was the emotional distance.
The carefully drawn line Leila had placed between them, made of invisible barbed wire. The kind you couldn't see until it tore through you.
He adjusted the cuffs of his suit. The mirror caught his reflection — sharp grey eyes, cold as ever. But even he could see the flicker of unrest in them now. A man used to control… unraveling over a girl who didn't ask for any of this.
What is it about her?
Why can't I turn it off?
He didn't know what he would say yet. Or if he'd say anything at all.
But one thing was certain.
This was the beginning of something he couldn't — wouldn't — ignore anymore.
And today, he'd start with a single step.
However small.
However silent.
He just needed to stand in the same room again.
To see if anything still stirred behind her eyes.
Or if he'd already lost her without ever having her at all.