Adrian shouldn't have called her in.
He knew that the second the door closed behind Nyra and the noise of the office floor vanished into silence.
Too quiet.
Too late.
Too much left unresolved from the night before.
She stood near his desk, arms folded, expression unreadable. Back in control. Back in armor. Like the hallway moment had been a shared hallucination.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked, cool and professional.
Adrian didn't sit.
He stayed where he was, leaning against the edge of the desk, watching her the way he hadn't allowed himself to in daylight before.
"You left," he said.
Nyra raised an eyebrow. "The party ended."
"You left me."
She laughed softly. "You'll survive."
That was the wrong answer.
"You don't get to pretend nothing happened," he said, voice tightening.
Nyra took a step closer. Slow. Deliberate.
"I'm very good at pretending," she replied. "You should try it."
The space between them shrank.
Glass walls surrounded the office transparent, dangerous but the blinds were half-drawn, the floor quiet. Anyone looking would see nothing but silhouettes.
Adrian's restraint snapped not loudly, not violently.
Just… gone.
"You don't get to look at me like that and walk away," he said.
"Like what?"
"Like you did."
Nyra tilted her head, eyes dark with challenge. "And what are you going to do about it, Adrian?"
He moved before thinking.
One step. Two.
Her back hit the desk not hard, but sudden. His hand came down beside her, trapping nothing but air and intention.
"Tell me to stop," he said, low.
She didn't.
That was all it took.
The kiss was brutal in its restraint no softness, no permission. Heat and tension and months of unspoken things crashing together in one sharp moment.
Nyra froze for half a second.
Then she kissed him back.
Not gentle.
Not yielding.
Like she was proving something to him or to herself, it didn't matter.
His hand brushed her jaw. Her fingers curled into his jacket. Breath tangled. Control dissolved.
Then clarity.
Nyra pulled back first, chest rising, eyes blazing.
"Don't," she said again. Firmer now.
Adrian stared at her, jaw tight, breath uneven. "You started this."
She straightened her clothes with maddening calm. "No. You let it happen."
Silence fell heavy between them.
Nyra stepped away, reclaiming space, reclaiming herself.
"This," she said coolly, "never happens again."
She walked toward the door, pausing only once.
"And for the record," she added without turning around, "you don't get to punish me with desire."
The door closed softly behind her.
Adrian stood alone in his office, pulse still racing, lips still burning.
The glass walls reflected a man who had just made a mistake.
One he wouldn't be able to undo.