The office was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside. Ethan's patience snapped.
"Why are you so stubborn?" he demanded, voice low and dangerous.
Lena crossed her arms, defiant. "I'm not stubborn. I just don't bend to every billionaire who thinks he can control me."
His chest tightened. She didn't understand—he didn't want to control her, he wanted her. He wanted her trust, her heart, her complete attention. But his jealousy, his obsession, it had taken over.
"You make it impossible to think straight," he admitted, almost whispering. "Every time you're near, I… I can't stop wanting more."
Her eyes softened for a fraction of a second, then hardened again. "More?"
"Yes," he said, stepping closer. "I want more of you. I want to be the one who matters, whether you like it or not."
The tension was suffocating. Neither moved, the air between them thick with unspoken desire and emotions neither dared to fully express.