"You've been looking at those contraceptive pills for the last two hours, Nini."
Chloe's cautious tone pulls me out of my mental haze. I look down at the pills in my palm — small, white, and cold reminders of the consequences of last night.
"You're acting like it's your first time having a one-night stand with someone," Jamila says, looking up from her laptop.
The living room of our apartment is cozy — soft couches, pillows, plants, books, and a large TV.
"Just take the pills, Nini. Getting emotional again won't save you," Jamila adds, her clipped tone reminding me of the past — of the time I got too emotional and did something that broke me inside out.
I sigh. "You really have no filter."
"That's what makes our Mila attorney Jamila Hassan," Chloe chuckles as she flips a page of her medical book.
"But was he that good?" Jamila smirks; her swing from serious to the nastiest-minded person in the room is something worth researching.
I side-eye her. "You're always too curious for a virgin."
She gasps scandalously. "Haram! Haram!"
"Listening to someone's sex life is also haram, Mila," Chloe jokes, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
Jamila pouts and gives me those big, round doe eyes — the kind that makes me forget how sly she really is.
"Yeah, he was good…" I pause. My body feels hot again, remembering last night — his body, his touch, his whispers, and his grunts.
Chloe and Jamila wait for me to finish.
"Too good…" I whisper under my breath. Taking the pills, I gulp them down with water, forcefully.
Jamila snickers and shakes her head. "Buckle up, Chloe. We're seeing Nova Celestia— no." She corrects herself. "Maya Singhani falling in love again."
My eyes widen slightly; the extreme urge to deny it and hide behind my fortress makes me straighten up.
"I'm not falling in love, okay? I was just drunk as fuck last night, and things happened." My eyes dart from one place to another, unable to meet the gaze of my two curious best friends.
"Your ears are turning red, Nini," Chloe giggles mischievously. My body feels too hot, my heart beating too fast for my own good.
"You two are crazy."
I mutter before walking into my room and falling onto my bed. The distant hum of the city and the night air passing through the open window give me goosebumps.
I curl up into a ball; a strange sense of emptiness fills my heart, and I wonder when the noise in my head will ever stop.
The more silent I am,
The louder the noise in my mind.
My chest feels heavy from the weight of my own thoughts — from the inability to tell anyone about the noise inside. Tears feel like a weakness I can't afford to show.
And every time I close my eyes…
I see his arctic blue eyes — the pain in them when I told him our night together meant nothing to me.
But what else could I say?
That you kissed the scars everyone frowns upon? That you healed a part of me that always feels too much? That last night, you made me feel more than just sexual pleasure?
I grit my teeth and clench my eyes shut. I'll see him tomorrow, and I don't know what to do about that.
---
Next Morning
Laurent & Cie
21st Floor
"Mr. Erikson isn't coming today?" I hear Eric's confused question to Felix, which gives us two pieces of news.
— Aaron isn't coming, even though he was supposed to review our proposal for the competition he threw us into on the very first day.
— And… the Vice President of Global Sales & Client Relations, and the second young master of the Laurent family, Julian Alexander Laurent, is visiting M&A.
As far as I know, Julian has a tendency to recruit people under him while casually walking around departments. His elder brother — the first young master, also the most mysterious one — doesn't recruit.
He kills anyone who rubs him the wrong way.
Scary indeed.
"It's random for Mr. Julian to take a walk around M&A with no prior notice," Luke mumbles while typing.
While Luke, Eric, and Elena analyze the reason behind Julian Alexander Laurent's sudden visit, my eyes keep darting back to Aaron's empty chair and desk.
No sound of his controlled breathing, no obsessive cleaning, no pen clicking, no focused stare at reports that made him look like a painting against the light.
Aaron never existed loudly; he simply floated around — soundless, effortless — and somehow became the center of attention.
My chest tightens in a way I'd rather not acknowledge.
Because…
Acknowledging means I care.
And caring means keeping dead ends open.
"You've been staring at Mr. Erikson's chair for too long, Nova," Eric says suddenly. I snap back and shake my head before returning to my work.
Eric's eyes narrow slightly, as if he's trying to solve a puzzle, but he says nothing.
Good.
Because I have no answer to give.
The clicks of keyboards and mice, the scraping of pens, and the flipping of pages stop when everyone is called outside.
The second young master is here.
As I'm about to cross the doorway, Mark's calm voice stops me.
"Don't catch the eyes of the second young master."
I frown, but before I can say anything, he walks past me — shoulders straight, chin high, but there's a stiffness in his posture I can't unsee.
Still, I decide to take his words seriously.
Because this is the second time.
The first was on my very first day, when HR warned us about the 31st to 40th-floor rule — where the main power centers are located.
The second is now — Mark's warning, implying that ignoring it would drag me into a situation I wouldn't enjoy.
From the gateway of the executive elevator to the end of the floor, every single M&A employee stands at attention, lined on both sides.
Nervous anticipation buzzes in the air — the hope of being noticed by the second young master.
Felix looks irritated as he tucks his strawberry-printed tie inside his shirt. Next to him, three other VPs of M&A's sub-branches stand stiff and careful.
Ting.
The elevator doors open, and the room holds its breath.
A tall man steps out — black hair styled messily over his forehead, high cheekbones catching the light, a sharp jawline, a pointed nose, and emerald-green eyes that gleam with something sneaky and cruel beneath a bright, boyish smile.
He's wearing a sky-blue shirt that fits tight across his chest, biceps, and shoulders — the kind of shirt that makes most women melt just looking at him, outlining every muscle and screaming gym rat.
But to me…
He looks like a teenage boy trying too hard to act like a man.
He's handsome — no, more pretty — with a big, buff body and a charming smile.
Nearly ten people follow him like bodyguards, all dressed in red, while he alone wears sky blue and white trousers.
I look down as he walks past, but something catches my eye.
The ring on his thumb.
I blink fast, squinting slightly as my heart begins to pound — too fast, too loud.
That winged ring on his left thumb…
It's exactly the same as the one Aaron wears.
I blink again and shake my head.
It's not like such winged rings are that rare. Anyone with gold can make one.
I shake off the thought as if it means nothing…
And I shouldn't have.
I realize that only much later.