Adriana Veyra lived behind glass.
Her skyscraper office loomed over the city, a cathedral of windows and steel for walls, power mirrored in each gleaming pane. From here, she could watch the world writhing below her. From here, she could remind herself that she was inviolate.
After the gala, after the dinner she never should have agreed to, she needed that reminder.
Her assistant was long gone, the floor silent but for the far-off hum of the city far beneath her. Adriana removed her diamond earrings and set them exactly on the desk, massaging her temples with her fingers.
Control. Order. Masks.
Those were her coping mechanisms. Those were how she ruled.
So when the abrupt click of the office door sliced through the silence, she froze.
Her head snapped up.
And there he was.
Damian Hale leaned against the doorframe as though he owned it, dark suit perfect, eyes gleaming with something halfway between amusement and hunger.
"You should fire your security," he said smoothly. "It shouldn't be this easy to walk into your empire."
Adriana's heart kicked against her ribs, but her face stayed cold. "You're trespassing."
He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
She rose, her chair gliding back in a whisper of leather. The heels of her shoes struck the marble floor like warning shots.
"This is my domain," she said, voice sharp as glass. "Not your playground."
Damian closed the space between them slowly, deliberately, each step a test.
"Amusing," he growled, "I thought domains were meant to be shared at least with those strong enough to seize them."
Her jaw tightened. "You think breaking into my office makes you strong? It makes you impulsive. And impulsiveness gets men killed."
"Then kill me." His voice was low, rebellious, maddeningly calm.
The words left her breathless for a moment.
She hid it behind a laugh. "You're mistaking patience for interest, Mr. Hale. You're nothing more than an inconvenience."
His smile was slashing. "And yet. here I am. Still in your office. Still under your skin."
The city glittered beyond the glass, a thousand points of light encircling them like an audience.
Adriana walked around her desk, sliding the gleaming wood between them like a shield. Damian mirrored her, moving around from the opposite side, his gaze never breaking from hers.
"You have to leave," she said, her voice icy. "Before I call security."
"Call them." He spread his arms, daring her. "Let's see how many people you're going to let in on the fact you can't control."
Her hand twitched toward the phone. She did nothing. She hated that he was right.
"You want something," she said finally. "Say it, then go."
He leaned toward her, hands on the desk, his face inches from hers across the polished surface.
"What I want," he whispered, "is you. Not your presence. Not your money. You.".
Her heart betrayed her once more, beating harder, quicker, but her eyes sliced to knife points. "You can't have me."
"Can't?" His eyes darkened. "Or won't?"
The silence between them was dense and thick, the only noise the buzz of the city lights beyond.
Adriana straightened, mask flawless. "I don't waste time on men who mistake obsession for power."
Damian's lips curved, but there was no humor in it. "And I don't waste time on women who pretend they don't feel what's burning right here."
His hand darted across the desk suddenly not to touch her, but to pick up the earrings she'd left on the desk. Diamonds glittered in his palm.
"You take these off," he whispered, threat in his voice, "but you never take off the crown, do you? Always the queen. Always untouchable."
Adriana snatched the earrings from his hand, her fingers brushing against his skin a moment too long. Spark of heat, unwanted, inescapable.
"Leave," she ordered.
His eyes locked on hers, insisting, relentless. "No."
The table between them no longer appeared to be enough. She stepped back, space opening where her mask broke down. But Damian stepped with her, his pace slow, predator-smooth.
Until her back struck the glass wall.
The city unfolded behind her, limitless lights blurring into the night. And before her Damian, close enough that the heat of him cut through the chill.
"You don't get to corner me," she breathed.
He braced one hand against the glass beside her, caging her in without touching. "Then why does it feel like you've been waiting for me to?"
Her breath hitched. She hated that he saw it, hated that he could hear the crack in her composure.
"You're playing with fire," she said.
He leaned closer, his voice brushing her ear. "Good. I've been cold for too long."
The air between them was fluid, every heartbeat a drum against fragile walls. For one dangerous moment, Adriana entertained the idea of allowing him to close the last inch. Entertained the notion of feeling what it was like to let go.
But control was her shield. And she would not relinquish it.
She moved sideways, heels striking sharp off marble as she circled around him, putting the desk between them once again.
"You'll regret this game," she said, voice level in spite of the storm in her bosom.
Damian straightened, slow and unmovable, his smile cruel.
He adjusted his cufflinks, unperturbed as ever, and moved to the door.
But on the threshold, he halted, turning back over his shoulder.
"You can keep pretending, Adriana. Pretend you don't feel it. Pretend you're superior to it. But sooner or later, every queen kneels to something."
The door shut behind him, and she was left alone with the city and the echo of his words.
Adriana laid a hand on the glass wall, her reflection staring back flawless, untouchable, intact.
But beneath the surface, her heart still raced where his nearness had seared her.
For the first time in years, Adriana wondered if her glass kingdom would be able to withstand the fire that was Damian Hale.