Chapter 7
Ethan's POV
I barely got any work done at the office that day.
Not because I was exhausted, not because I hadn't slept, but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Lena.
The way she trembled in my arms last night.
The way she whispered my name like she wasn't supposed to.
The way she looked at me this morning like I'd shattered something fragile inside her.
And maybe I had.
The moment she stepped out of my office earlier, shame ripped through me like a blade.
I had kissed her like I had every right to.
Held her like she was mine.
Protected her like I'd known her all my life.
Then I'd scolded her at work as if none of it mattered.
Pathetic.
I turned away from the window, unable to focus on anything except the hollow ache in my chest. Her scent still lingered on my hands, warm, faintly floral. The kind of scent a man shouldn't notice if he planned to ignore her.
Which I wasn't doing a very good job at.
A sharp knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Come in."
Lucas entered with a stack of signed contracts, but his eyes flicked toward me in that too-perceptive way he had.
"You seem… off today," he said carefully. "Is everything alright, sir?"
"No."
He blinked, startled. "Oh. Should I..."
"Get out," I snapped.
He left immediately.
I raked a hand through my hair and swore under my breath. I hated myself more than I hated my reflection in the window.
Because even now, angry, irritated, tired, I was waiting.
Waiting for her soft footsteps outside the door.
Waiting for her timid knock.
Waiting for her voice saying, Good morning, Mr. Cole.
Pathetic.
I straightened my tie, grabbed the next file, and forced myself into work mode. It lasted all of three minutes.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number:
"I know where she lives."
My vision darkened.
Jonah.
Before I could react, another message arrived.
"She was always mine. You think you can keep her?"
My fingers curled so tightly around the phone that the plastic creaked.
I fought the urge to storm out of the building and hunt him down.
He wouldn't touch her again.
He wouldn't come near her.
He wouldn't breathe in her direction,
Another knock.
"Mr. Cole?"
Her voice.
I inhaled sharply.
"Come in."
She entered slowly, carrying the corrected designs. She placed them on my desk, eyes avoiding mine.
"Here are the revisions, sir."
I opened the file. Every page was immaculate. Clean lines. Perfect precision. No hesitation anywhere.
Except in her voice.
"Are you feeling well?" I asked before I could stop myself.
She froze. "Yes, Mr. Cole."
"You look tired."
Her lips parted, surprised. "I… I didn't sleep much."
Neither did I.
But I didn't say that.
Instead I said, "That isn't an excuse for sloppy work."
It was a lie. A cruel one. The folder was flawless.
Her shoulders fell.
"I understand."
She turned to leave.
I watched her walk away like a man starving. And hating it.
Lena's POV
I don't understand him.
Last night he held me like I mattered.
He kissed me like he wanted me.
He looked at me like he could devour the whole world just to keep me safe.
This morning…
He acted like I was just an intern he could replace in seconds.
Not that I'd ever say that to him.
He's my boss.
My terrifying, cold, impossible-to-read boss.
"Miss Hart?"
I looked up to see Miles from the creative team smiling warmly. "You dropped this earlier." He held out my pen.
"Oh, thank you," I said, managing a small smile.
"You look stressed. Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Just… long night."
"Do you want to grab lunch later? You look like you could use the break."
I opened my mouth to answer,
"Miss Hart."
My heart stopped.
Ethan stood in the hallway, expression unreadable, eyes hard.
Miles straightened. "Mr. Cole. Uh...sorry, sir, I was just..."
"Leave."
Miles froze. Then hurried off.
I swallowed hard. "Mr. Cole?"
He didn't speak for three seconds.
Three long, suffocating seconds where he just stared at me.
Then:
"My office. Now."
I followed him, pulse pounding.
He shut the door behind me and turned, jaw clenched.
"Do you have something important to discuss with the creative team?"
"I—no, sir. He just returned my pen."
"Your pen," he repeated flatly.
"Yes."
"And you needed a conversation for that?"
"It was just—"
His teeth gritted. "Be more careful who you spend your time with."
The words hit me like cold water.
"Are you… Are you warning me, Mr. Cole?"
"Yes."
I stared at him, confused and frustrated. "I don't understand you. Last night—"
"Last night was a mistake," he cut sharply.
My breath stuttered.
There it was.
The blow.
The humiliating one.
I nodded slowly. "Right. Of course."
But as I turned to leave, something broke in his eyes.
Just a flicker.
Just a second.
But I saw it.
"Miss Hart."
"Yes?" My voice cracked.
"You are under my protection. Whether you want it or not."
My breath caught.
Before I could reply, he dismissed me with a cold, "Return to work."
But my hands shook for minutes after.
And when I got back to my desk, my phone buzzed.
A private number.
I hesitated, then opened it.
"You think he can protect you?"
My stomach dropped.
Jonah.
I locked the phone and hugged it to my chest, fighting the rising panic.
Not here.
Not again.
Not at work.
Someone must've been watching me.
Someone close.
My eyes drifted toward the glass wall of Ethan's office.
He was standing there, watching me.
His expression… changed.
Too sharply.
He saw the fear on my face.
And he started walking toward me.
Ethan's POV
She was scared again.
I didn't need to see her phone.
I knew the look.
Terror.
Panic.
The same fear she had that night.
Jonah had contacted her again.
I strode up to her desk. "Miss Hart."
She swallowed. "Y-yes, Mr. Cole?"
"Pack your things."
Her eyes widened. "What? Why?"
"You're leaving early."
"But—"
"That wasn't a request."
She stood slowly, grabbing her bag with trembling hands.
I placed a hand on her lower back and guided her out of the office.
Miles stared.
Two secretaries whispered.
Lucas lifted a knowing brow.
I ignored all of them.
No one mattered except her.
When the elevator doors closed, she finally spoke.
"Mr. Cole… what's happening?"
"I won't let him threaten you."
"You saw my phone?"
"No. I saw your face."
She looked away, cheeks flushing.
"Where are we going?" she asked softly.
"My house."
She blinked. "Again?"
"Yes."
"But Mr. Cole—"
"Lena," I said, voice low and final, "you're not going home tonight."
She didn't argue.
Not once.
We reached the car. My driver held the door open.
But I stopped her before she entered.
"One more thing," I said, stepping closer.
She looked up, confused.
Her lips parted.
I leaned down, not kissing her, not touching her, just close enough that she felt my breath.
"You will tell me exactly what Jonah said."
She swallowed. "Yes… Mr. Cole."
"And when we get home," I murmured, "you will not hide anything from me again."
Her breath shivered.
"…Okay."
I stepped back.
"Good girl."
Her cheeks turned scarlet.
I opened the car door for her.
As she got in, I made a silent promise
"Tonight, Jonah would learn what fear truly felt like."
And she would understand that she was no longer alone.
Not anymore.
Not ever again.