The sun hadn't yet risen above the steel horizon of Titan Corporation's headquarters when Eric stepped off the elevator, his eyes cold, his movements precise. Today wasn't just another day of survival—it was a day to push the boundaries. The night's events had rewritten the rules.
Yesterday, Lena had nearly fallen.
She hadn't seen it coming. Not the internal audit leak. Not the mysterious files on the shared server. And certainly not Eric, the quiet operations assistant, staring her down in the boardroom as if he held the script to her undoing.
She hadn't slept.
Lena's stilettos echoed in the empty corridor as she walked with her usual commanding air, but there was something brittle beneath it. Her makeup was flawless, her eyes sharp, but the tremor in her fingers as she slid her keycard didn't escape Eric's notice. He was waiting at the end of the hallway, files in hand, like a loyal subordinate.
But they both knew that illusion was beginning to crack.
"Morning, Director Lena," Eric said with an almost-too-polite smile, holding out a sealed envelope.
Her eyes narrowed. "What's this?"
"Something I think you'd rather see before the auditors do." His voice was quiet, but every word was a needle.
Lena snatched the envelope and walked past him without another word, but he followed. Into her office. Past the fake veneer of control.
She ripped the envelope open. Printed screenshots. Transaction logs. Names. The kind of information no one was supposed to have. The kind of evidence that could not only destroy her career—but pull her into something much darker than incompetence.
"You've been busy," she muttered.
"I told you," Eric replied, stepping closer, lowering his voice. "I want to help you."
Her laugh was sharp and humorless. "Help me? You want leverage. You think just because you've caught me in someone else's mess, I'll play your game?"
Eric's expression didn't change. "I'm already in the game. You just didn't know I had pieces on the board."
A pause.
For the first time, Lena didn't have an immediate comeback. Her gaze shifted from the papers to the man before her. The same man she'd humiliated in meetings. Dismissed in front of others. The same man who now held her secrets—and maybe her fate—in his hands.
"You're not as harmless as you look," she said finally, voice low.
Eric stepped even closer. "And you're not as untouchable as you pretend to be."
For a moment, their eyes locked. The tension was no longer purely antagonistic. It was electric. Charged with rivalry. With awareness.
Lena turned away first, exhaling sharply. "What do you want?"
He walked to her desk, placed a small USB beside the monitor.
"Two things," he said. "First, your cooperation. Starting today, I'm part of your confidential circle. I get access to all red-level project data—especially the ones that don't exist on paper."
"And the second?"
Eric smiled. It was the first time Lena had ever seen him smile like that. Calm. Calculated.
"Trust."
Her eyes flashed. "I don't trust anyone."
"You will."
Lena didn't answer right away. She turned back toward the window, the morning sun barely creeping over the skyline, casting an amber sheen across her office floor.
For the first time, Eric noticed something fragile beneath the sculpted professionalism. Her spine was straight, her posture defiant—but her shadow trembled ever so slightly, flickering like the image of control she wore daily.
"You're playing a dangerous game," she said, voice lower now. "You think blackmail makes you my equal?"
Eric didn't flinch. "No. I think it makes us… necessary to each other."
That struck a chord.
She turned back to him slowly, her eyes narrowing. "And if I agree, what then? We play house? You fetch me coffee while I pretend to trust you?"
Eric stepped closer, his tone softer. "No. We start by cleaning up the mess you didn't know you were standing in."
He tapped the USB stick again. "This is the tip of it. Someone's been laundering money through the logistics budget—names you'd recognize. But you were the one who signed off the paperwork."
Her breath caught.
He knew she hadn't orchestrated the fraud. That's what made it more dangerous. She was the perfect fall girl—high-profile, decisive, and already unpopular with certain directors. It wouldn't take much to hang her with her own signature.
"You think I need your help to manage this?" she said, defiant.
"I think they've already decided who takes the fall," he replied. "I just showed you the rope before they threw it around your neck."
Her silence was the first sign of agreement.
And just then—a knock.
Not a timid one. Sharp. Controlled.
Eric's eyes flicked toward the door. Lena frowned.
"Director Lena," came a voice from outside. "The internal compliance team just arrived. They say it's an unscheduled data verification."
Her blood ran cold. "Already?"
"Already," Eric said softly.
She looked at him—and for the first time, her authority faltered. "I didn't think it would be this soon."
"That's the thing about knives in the dark," Eric murmured. "You rarely see them coming."
Lena turned to the intercom. "Send them to Conference Room C. Keep them there. I'll join them in ten."
"Yes, Director."
When she turned back to Eric, the look on her face was no longer scorn—it was calculation.
"You stay close," she said. "You're not invisible anymore. And if I fall, you fall with me."
Eric nodded. "Understood. But I don't intend to fall."
Lena looked at him long and hard. Then, to his surprise, she reached out, adjusted the crooked edge of his tie. It was a tiny gesture—but it shattered a wall.
"Let's see how deep this rot goes," she said, and turned to grab her files.
Just as Eric moved to follow her, the door opened from the outside.
And in came Sasha.
Bright smile. Flowy blouse. Perfectly tousled hair that suggested "casual" but screamed "calculated."
"Oh—sorry," she chirped, blinking. "Didn't know you were busy."
Lena's face darkened. "Do you usually barge into executive offices unannounced?"
Sasha pouted. "Just came to drop the HR reports. New assistant duty, remember?" She flashed Eric a wink, as if sharing an inside joke that never happened.
Eric didn't speak. But he saw it.
Her eyes. The flicker of recognition. She had heard something. Maybe seen something. And now she was connecting dots.
And the smile she gave before walking out?
Too sweet. Too…interested.
When the door clicked shut, Lena muttered, "Who the hell is she?"
Eric stared at the closed door a second longer.
"Trouble," he said.
Lena stormed out first, heels clacking like gunshots on the polished floor.
Eric followed half a step behind, careful to match her pace—close enough to be seen as aligned, far enough to keep plausible deniability.
As they entered the hallway, employees subtly parted like the Red Sea. No one dared meet Lena's gaze. But eyes flicked toward Eric—confused, speculative. The quiet office rumor mill had begun to grind.
The compliance team was already seated in Conference Room C. Three men in dark suits and a woman with a laptop open, her fingers already dancing across keys. Cold smiles. No small talk.
"Director Lena," one of them said, rising with mock respect. "Apologies for the early visit. Just a routine sweep."
Lena's smile was colder. "Routine, yet unauthorized."
"We received instructions from the audit committee," he replied smoothly. "Directly."
Eric glanced at Lena. That one word—"directly"—told them everything. This wasn't a standard review. This was a hit job.
And Lena was the target.
"I'll need access to your data room," the woman said, not even looking up.
Lena nodded. "Of course. But you'll need to go through my executive assistant to schedule terminal time."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "A delay?"
"Standard protocol," Lena replied, cool as glass. "Unless you'd like to explain to Legal why you accessed an active director's files without clearance."
The tension thickened.
Eric stepped in. "If you'd like, I can help prepare filtered read-only views of the last three quarters' data. That should keep things moving."
The leader turned to him. "You are?"
Eric gave a mild smile. "Just an analyst. But I do know the maze."
The man studied him for a beat, then nodded. "Fine. We'll expect access in the next hour."
As the team returned to their setup, Lena walked past Eric without a word, signaling him with a twitch of her finger.
They stepped into the fire stairwell, door closing behind them with a clang.
"Tell me you have a plan," she said.
Eric pulled out a phone—not his work device, but an old model. "I cloned a local sandbox of the expense data yesterday. We'll upload that version and mask the transaction IDs with shell entries."
Lena stared at him.
"You really are dangerous," she whispered.
"You hired me," he replied.
"No. I inherited you," she said, a trace of bitterness. "You were a leftover."
Eric met her eyes. "Then maybe that's what makes me valuable. No one expects leftovers to bite."
There was a moment—a flicker in her expression that wasn't anger or fear. It was… intrigue.
Then she stepped back, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve. "We have forty-five minutes. Get to it."
Back in the data room, Eric worked fast. Lena stood by the door, arms crossed, pretending not to watch. But she was. Every few seconds, her eyes flicked toward the screen.
And Eric? He was aware of her.
The way she hovered—not out of distrust, but out of habit. The constant need to control.
Only now, control had shifted.
"You're not like the others," she said suddenly. "Most of the men who try to get close to me, they either fear me or flatter me. You… challenge me."
Eric didn't look up. "Do you prefer fear or flattery?"
"I prefer silence," she said coolly.
Eric chuckled. "Then why are you still talking to me?"
Lena opened her mouth, then closed it.
Across the hall, behind the slightly ajar HR door, Sasha watched them through a sliver of the glass.
She wasn't holding any files this time.
Instead, she tapped notes into her phone quickly. Her usually playful eyes were sharp now, observant. Predatory.
She had seen Lena brush Eric's tie earlier. Had caught the tension in their voices through the door. Heard the word "audit."
Her instincts screamed that something big was happening.
But she didn't report it.
Instead, she pulled up a contact on her phone. Labeled only: "Dad — Liaison Office."
She typed one word: "Found something."
Then she slipped the phone away and smiled.
Back in the server room, Eric finished uploading the cloned version.
"It's done," he said. "If they dig deep, they'll see inconsistencies—but not enough to flag today."
Lena walked up beside him, standing close. Too close for just professionalism.
"You just committed fraud," she said, voice low.
"So did you," he replied, almost gently.
They were standing in the same trench now.
Their eyes met.
Neither flinched.
And in that moment, the air between them wasn't just charged—it was dangerous.
Then Lena stepped back, her voice steady again. "If we survive this, you'll get what you want."
Eric arched a brow. "And what do you think I want?"
She turned, walking away without answering.
But she knew. And so did he.
The audit team didn't find anything—at least, not enough to pull the trigger.
They lingered longer than necessary, brows furrowed, scrolling through line items that looked just clean enough to raise doubt but not suspicion. Their instincts told them something was off. But instincts weren't admissible.
Lena and Eric returned to their offices with expressions carved from stone.
By 6 PM, the compliance team left, masks of polite failure on their faces.
As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, Lena exhaled slowly. Her heels echoed down the now-empty corridor like fading gunfire.
Eric leaned against the glass wall of her office.
"You realize," he said, "they'll be back. This was just reconnaissance."
Lena nodded. "I know. And next time, they won't just knock. They'll come with demolition gear."
"And when they do?"
Her answer was sharp. "We bury them first."
That night, something shifted.
Eric was finishing up an email when his phone buzzed. A new message.
Unknown Number:
"You and your boss look good together under pressure. Very cinematic."
His blood chilled. He scanned the office—nothing. Then the name popped up.
Sasha.
The photo icon loaded: she had changed it. Now it was just red lips. Smiling.
Before he could respond, a second message arrived.
"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. Yet. But I'm very curious. Care to tell me more over coffee?"
Eric didn't reply.
But he knew she'd corner him soon.
Meanwhile, Lena stood alone in front of her massive glass windows, staring down at the city like a queen over her crumbling kingdom.
Her reflection stared back—poised, composed. A woman who had clawed her way to the top through glass ceilings and steel walls. But now? That reflection showed something else too.
Doubt.
And something she hated more than doubt.
Reliance.
Eric had saved her. That wasn't the part she hated.
The part she hated… was how much she didn't regret it.
The next day.
Sasha 'accidentally' bumped into Eric at the coffee machine. She was dressed casually—ripped jeans, an off-shoulder sweater, and her usual too-charming smile.
"Rough night?" she teased, handing him a cup before he asked.
Eric gave her a wary glance. "You were watching yesterday."
"I was curious. Still am."
"You should be careful what you're curious about."
"Oh, I am. But I'm also very persistent."
She winked, then leaned closer. "Tell me, Eric. Are you two lovers… or just partners-in-crime?"
He didn't answer. But that pause?
That was enough to keep her hooked.
Back in Lena's office, she watched Eric and Sasha through the blinds.
The girl was laughing, too easily.
Eric was silent, but not dismissive.
Lena's jaw clenched.
She told herself it was because Sasha was a distraction. A threat.
But part of her knew—it was also because she didn't like sharing him.
Not with anyone.
By the end of the day, Lena summoned Eric with a single text: "Come up. Now."
He arrived seconds later. She didn't look up from her desk.
"I want you to monitor Sasha," she said.
Eric blinked. "Why me?"
"You're close enough to her already. She trusts you. I don't."
Eric studied her face. "Is this about work… or about jealousy?"
Lena's eyes flicked up.
"I don't get jealous," she said flatly.
Eric stepped closer. "Then why are you angry?"
"I'm not angry."
He smiled. "You're lying."
She stood, the chair scraping softly behind her.
"Eric… I don't trust anyone. But I tolerate you because you're useful. Don't confuse that for affection."
He didn't move. "And yet here you are, asking for favors instead of giving orders."
The silence between them sparked again—dangerous, tight.
Then Lena did something unexpected.
She reached out, straightened his tie.
Her fingers brushed against his collarbone—just enough to feel the warmth beneath.
"Just remember," she murmured, "the closer you get to the fire, the faster you burn."
Eric looked her in the eyes. "Or maybe I'm the one who lights the match."