Next Morning
Laurent & Cie – 21st floor
Ting!
Elevator doors open silently.
Heels click, shoes scrape against polished floors, printers hum, and morning chatter floats between people pretending to have everything sorted out.
My leather shoes catch the morning light filtering through glass windows. Memories from last night still vivid in my heart. Her shape in my arms… surreal.
Someone approaches. I don't need to turn . Chaotic energy and overconfidence like his don't belong in this building normally.
"Oh, you look like you couldn't sleep last night, Bro." Hazel-green eyes scan me top to bottom.
"You aren't supposed to 'Bro' me here, Felix," I say calmly, drawing the line between Aaron William Laurent and Aaron Erikson.
Felix rolls his shoulders in defiance. He pulls out an orange lollipop, extends it, and I take it out of habit.
"I know, I know, you're on some undercover mission," he frowns, tilting his head with a grin only someone untouchable could wear.
"I'm just curious how the guy who avoids 90% of people is suddenly interested in my new junior associate."
My junior associate…
Something raw slips through my cracks.
My mouth tastes metallic, my grip on the lollipop hard enough to break it, my gut twisted by a feeling I refuse to admit.
"She is not yours," I say, my voice cold and sharp.
Felix freezes, gulps nervously, shoves his hands into his pockets. He laughs, terror hidden poorly.
"Yeah, right, she's not mine. Just a mistake. Then, I hope you achieve your goal, bro. See you at lunch." He hurries into his cabin without another word.
I exhale, long and frustrated. The weight doesn't leave my chest.
I hate it. I loathe it when someone dares to eye what's mine. And after yesterday,after her hug and her tears, I know without doubt.
Nova Celestia is mine and I am hers.
She doesn't know it yet, but soon, she will. Nobody claims what's mine, not even brother of my best friend.
I walk into the assigned cabin where five of my subordinates work.
The moment I push the glass door open, my eyes land on her small frame, hunched over her laptop, typing like her life depends on it.
The stubborn frown, the flutter of her lashes catching the golden hue of 10AM sun.
Lips slightly parted like she's discovering a whole new world—and my heart does those stupid jumps.
She wears a pastel dress down to her ankles, no heels, just white ankle boots. Her hair is braided, waterfall braid, if I'm not mistaken.
She looks up. Our eyes meet. My breath stops for seventeen seconds, alive again from last night's memory.
She blinks quickly, cheeks flushing as she looks away. I don't.
A smile threatens my lips. Relief and pride ripple through me.
This dangerously beautiful, brilliant woman, who crash-landed into my life just three days ago and changed its course, she feels the same spark.
Maybe not as much as I do. Still, she does.
And that little is enough for me to push forward.
"Mr. Erikson," Eric calls. I lift a brow. He's the most analytical snake in the room. Not surprising, considering his mother.
"I wanted to ask about company A." He taps the file, masking which company it really is. Smart.
Quick scan of the room: Mark lazily flips files. Elena types, coloring something. Luke is gone with two files, probably in another department.
"Sure, let's go to the coffee room," I say calmly.
Nothing like the man from last night, softening his voice for the only woman who brought out a version of me I didn't know existed.
My eyes find Nova's once more. She stiffens like a cat caught doing something wrong, looks away too fast.
She tries to mask it, but not enough.
I walk out, Eric following. Blood hot, pulse loud, hands itching to shove everything aside and pull her into my arms.
But not yet. Not until she feels and accepts every inch of what she's been stirring in me since day one.
The rest of the day rolls on. Paperwork, spreadsheets, meetings. I've adapted to Deputy VP life too fast, too perfect.
Nobody here knows I'm their Executive VP, son of the Chairman, young master of the Laurent family.
It gives me freedom to do what I can't as a Laurent.
One task: uncovering my uncle and Julian's people among the hires and mid-level managers.
I know the Senior Managers who support them, but there are still too many blind spots.
My first target: this department under Felix. Since he's on my side, the 21st floor is my advantage.
Every project passes Felix's desk first. His odd fashion sense and careless reputation make him look harmless.
A 200-page list of suspicious employees weighs heavy on my laptop.
Nearly 700 names, from clerks to directors, details mapped for my calculations.
Typing, page-flipping, pen scratching, coffee aroma, the office cocoon surrounds me.
A cup of coffee slides before me. Long, delicate fingers graze my cufflink deliberately.
I look up. Elena. Softer makeup than yesterday. Hair messy, deliberate. Neckline teasing cleavage, pushed up for seduction.
I feel nothing. I lean back, crossing my legs. "What do you need, Ms. Smith?"
She blinks, caught off guard. Shifts on her left leg, nervous habit.
"You skipped lunch, so I got you coffee," she says, soft and careful.
My eyes flick to the coffee, then to the burrito wrapped in white paper. Harmless, but obvious.
Any typical EVP would accept. Beautiful blonde junior offering ego and pride.
She'd be useful, too. Her charms can easily infiltrate Julian's fortress of young men.
I take the coffee. "I'll accept the coffee, not the burrito."
Which meant: you have my favor, but I am not going to fuck you.
Her eyes blink rapidly, corners reddening.
I frown. Woman, I spared you, gave you what you wanted without touching you. Shouldn't you be relieved? Why do you look like you'll cry for male decency?
Her hands shake. She adjusts her blouse, covering herself.
Her nose and cheeks flush red. She wipes a tear away, smiling with… gratitude.
"I understand, Mr. Erikson." She bows her head slightly and returns to her desk, leaving me confused.
How many men must have hit on her, for me giving her respect which she deserves for being a woman makes her emotional and grateful?
I feel Nova's eyes on me, squinting suspiciously. I shake my head in defense.
She narrows her eyes more. Somehow, we're speaking through them.
Muttering like a scolded kid, I sigh taking sip of coffee, "I didn't do anything wrong though…"