The penthouse was quiet that morning, sunlight spilling across the marble floors and painting golden streaks on the walls. Ayra sat at the small breakfast table, spooning cereal into her mouth mechanically, her mind racing with the events of the past week.
Living with Liam had been… complicated. Every small gesture, every fleeting look, seemed to carry weight. Every brush of his hand, every casual comment, made her heart race, though she refused to admit it even to herself. She reminded herself constantly: It's just a contract. He's just a man. Nothing more.
But the truth was harder to ignore. She felt drawn to him in ways she had never expected. And she was painfully aware that he felt it too.
Liam appeared from the kitchen, dressed casually but impossibly perfect, his hair slightly tousled, a dark smirk on his lips. He set a cup of coffee in front of her without a word.
"You're quiet today," he observed, leaning against the counter.
"I… have a lot to do," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.
"Mm," he said, nodding, eyes scanning her face. "Busy or… distracted?"
Her heart skipped. She tried to look annoyed, professional even, but her cheeks betrayed her. "Distracted? By what?"
"By me," he said softly, almost a whisper, and turned away before she could respond.
Ayra froze, spoon halfway to her mouth. Her chest raced. She could feel it the pull between them, stronger now than ever, teasing, almost unbearable.
The day dragged on with the usual routine office work, meetings, Liam's subtle tests of her attention, small touches that shouldn't have mattered but did. By evening, both of them were on edge.
Ayra was reviewing reports in the living room when she heard the door click open. Liam entered, looking more relaxed than usual, carrying a folder.
"You're still here?" he asked.
"I… needed to finish this," she replied, voice low.
He moved closer, leaning on the edge of the table beside her. "I see why they hired you," he murmured. "You don't quit until it's done."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the office, the contract, the rules everything vanished. She felt the heat of him near her, the tension thick and undeniable.
"You… you don't have to stay so late," he said softly.
"I want to," she whispered, though her voice trembled.
That night, they ended up in the living room, working side by side.
A storm had started outside, and the rain tapped against the windows like a steady drumbeat. The sound was comforting, a background to the electric charge between them.
At one point, Liam stretched, and his arm brushed hers. It was a light touch, accidental maybe, but enough to send a jolt through her body. She quickly pulled back, heart hammering, and glanced at him.
He was watching her, calm, unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed him desire, curiosity, frustration.
"You're difficult to ignore," he said quietly, and she felt her face heat up.
"I… I don't want to be ignored," she replied, almost breathless.
He leaned closer, so close that their foreheads nearly touched. "Neither do I," he admitted.
The storm outside intensified, but inside the penthouse, it was as if time had slowed. Every glance, every movement, every small brush of hands carried weight.
Ayra realized she had been pretending for days pretending she wasn't affected by him, pretending the attraction didn't exist. And now, as she looked into his eyes, she knew the pretense was crumbling.
Liam noticed it too. The subtle way her breathing changed when he was near, the small tremor in her fingers when their hands brushed, the quickening pulse in her neck when their eyes met. He was supposed to remain detached, professional, untouchable. But she made him feel things he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.
The first real tension-breaking moment came with dinner.
They cooked together, fumbling in the kitchen but laughing more than they expected. The heat from the stove, the closeness, the shared jokes it all made Ayra's heart race. She caught herself stealing glances at him, noticing the small details: the curve of his jaw, the way his sleeves rolled just right, the intensity of his gaze when he was concentrating.
"You're staring," he said suddenly, eyes locking onto hers.
"I… I wasn't," she stammered, though her cheeks burned.
He smirked knowingly. "Liar."
She wanted to argue, but the words wouldn't come. The air between them was charged, crackling with something they both tried to ignore.
After dinner, Liam poured two glasses of wine soft, subtle, almost ceremonial. He handed one to her without a word, and they moved to the balcony, rain lightly tapping on the glass behind them.
The city lights shimmered through the drops of water, but all Ayra could see was him. The warmth of his hand brushed hers again, and this time, neither pulled away.
"You… don't have to fight it," he whispered, voice low and rough, carrying a promise she didn't dare hope for.
"I… I can't," she said, though the words lacked conviction. Her heart wanted to betray her, and her body agreed.
He tilted his head closer. "Why?"
"Because… because it's wrong," she admitted, voice trembling. "The contract. My life. Everything."
"And yet," he murmured, closing the space between them slightly, "it doesn't feel wrong to me."
For the first time, their pretense began to fade.
Liam reached out, a careful, tentative hand brushing her hair from her face. She shivered, and her breath hitched. The moment was electric, full of tension, desire, and unspoken confessions.
"I… I shouldn't," she whispered, stepping back just enough to maintain distance.
"Neither should I," he admitted, the words quiet but loaded.
And yet, neither moved away. Neither could
The night ended with them sitting side by side, shoulders brushing, both aware of the growing pull that neither the contract nor reason could contain.
Ayra's thoughts raced: the contract was supposed to protect her, to keep things professional, but it felt like a fragile wall she couldn't rely on anymore. And Liam well, he was clearly struggling just as much as she was.
Something had shifted between them. Pretend had begun to turn real.
And neither of them knew how to stop it.