The office was empty, silent except for the quiet hum of the computers and the occasional clack of Amara's fingers against her laptop. She worked late more often than not these days, digging into Voss International's public records, corporate filings, and anything she could find about Adrian and his world.
Her plan was simple: stay invisible, stay sharp, stay in control.
Until tonight, when it all started to feel like it was slipping.
A notification popped up on her screen. An email from an unknown source.
Subject: You're being watched.
Her heart skipped. She opened it cautiously.
"Do not trust him. Not fully. Not yet. He is not the man you think. And neither are you. – L"
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. L? Lydia?
She closed the laptop with a snap, pushing away the growing tension. She had a choice: ignore it or investigate.
Curiosity gnawed at her.
That Evening
The gala had been a taste of what the Voss world demanded. Tonight, Adrian invited her again—this time for a private dinner at his penthouse.
The car ride was quiet. Neither spoke much, but the silence was different now. Not empty. Not polite. Tense. Heavy.
When they arrived, the city lights spilled across the glass walls of his penthouse, painting the room in gold and blue. It was breathtaking—and intimidating.
Adrian poured her a glass of wine, but neither drank immediately. Their eyes met across the table.
"Amara," he said finally, breaking the silence.
She froze. The sound of her real name on his lips sent a jolt through her. She hadn't expected him to know—or to say it.
"You know," he continued, calm and deliberate, "I can tell when someone's hiding something from me."
Her pulse quickened. She wanted to mask her reaction, but it slipped anyway.
"I'm just… careful," she replied.
"No," he said softly, leaning forward slightly. "You're cautious because you've been hurt. And you've been planning something."
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
"How do you know?" she asked, more sharply than intended.
His eyes didn't waver.
"I've studied people my entire life," he said. "I know when they're pretending to be someone they're not. And you…" His gaze softened, almost imperceptibly, "you're not pretending well enough."
Unseen Danger
Meanwhile, Lydia Arkwright watched from her penthouse across the city. The binoculars in her hand tracked Amara's every move.
"She's too close," Lydia muttered to herself.
A knock at the door made her jump. Her assistant entered.
"Ma'am, the surveillance team reports movement at the penthouse. Voss has invited her in."
Lydia's lips curved. "Good. Let him get attached. Let him think he's in control."
Her eyes gleamed with something cold. "Because soon… someone will pay."
The Confession
Back at Adrian's penthouse, Amara couldn't ignore the strange pull she felt toward him. Something about his presence demanded attention. Something about his calm control made her pulse race despite herself.
Adrian reached across the table, not touching her, but close enough that the air between them felt charged.
"You're planning something," he said quietly, "but I want you to know—whatever it is, I can handle it. And I won't let anyone use you."
Her breath hitched. That was not a promise she expected. That was… concern.
A crack in her armor.
"I don't need protection," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No," he said, "but sometimes we need someone to see the truth, even when we hide it from ourselves."
Her eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment, Amara felt exposed. Not because of her secret identity, but because of the unexpected intimacy in his gaze.
And that… was dangerous.
Because she had a plan.
And he was already interfering.