The office was quiet, but the city outside roared with the night. Rain streaked down the glass like silver veins, neon reflections painting distorted patterns on the marble floor. The storm had passed hours ago, but the tension in the building was heavier than any weather could produce.
Aria Bennett moved down the corridor, files in her hands, heels clicking softly. Every instinct in her body was alert, attuned to the subtle presence of Dominic Vale somewhere nearby. She hadn't seen him yet tonight, but she felt him — a magnetic force she couldn't ignore.
She rounded the corner and froze.
Dominic was there, leaning against the wall just beyond the elevator. No words. Just presence. Watching. Waiting.
Her heart thumped. She didn't move, didn't breathe too loudly. He didn't step forward, either. The air between them was taut, almost electric.
"You're here late," he murmured, voice low, smooth. The sound made her pulse jump.
"I—wanted to make sure everything was ready for tomorrow," she replied, careful to keep her tone professional, though every fiber of her body screamed otherwise.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned slightly, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough that her breath hitched. The hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant city traffic faded until only the space between them mattered.
"You're careful," he said finally, voice a low growl, "but you're also… reckless."
Aria swallowed. "How so?"
"Because you're here. Alone. With me. Knowing exactly what you're doing," he murmured, hand brushing just near hers — not touching, but the intentional proximity sent heat through her veins.
She tried to pull back slightly. Her pulse spiked. "Dominic…"
"And yet," he whispered, stepping slightly closer, "you don't stop."
Her knees weakened. She set the files on the nearby counter, heart racing. "I… I don't want this to be a mistake," she admitted, voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed.
"It's not a mistake," he said, tone almost too soft. "Not yet."
Their eyes locked, and for a suspended moment, time itself seemed to falter. Every heartbeat, every breath, every flicker of movement carried promise and danger.
Then, without warning, the office door opened a fraction, just enough to cast a sliver of light across the hallway.
Aria's chest tightened. She knew — she felt — Selene Whitmore's watchful presence, though the fiancée wasn't there. Not physically. But the calculated reminder of her control lingered like a cold shadow.
Dominic's gaze sharpened. His jaw clenched, subtle tension radiating from him. "Stay close," he said softly, a protective edge beneath his voice, as if sensing the invisible threat just beyond their private space.
Minutes passed in charged silence. Hands brushed almost accidentally, eyes met with smoldering intent, and each movement was measured, purposeful, yet restrained. Every unspoken word carried weight heavier than any document on their desks.
Finally, Aria dared to speak. "Why does it feel like… everything is against us?"
He reached out, deliberately allowing their fingers to touch — light, almost teasing, a spark that ran through them both. "Because it is," he said softly. "The world, her… expectations… they all want to control me. Control us."
Her breath hitched, and a shiver ran down her spine. "Then… why do I still want this?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his thumb brushed across hers in slow circles, a tiny, intimate gesture. His gaze never left hers. "Because you feel it too," he murmured.
A flicker of movement outside the hallway caught Aria's eye. She turned slightly, heart leaping, but saw only a shadow retreating — a ghost of Selene's presence, chilling and deliberate.
Dominic pulled back slightly, composure returning, though his intensity never wavered. "We need to be careful," he said, almost to himself. "But the fact that it's this hard… tells me everything."
Aria nodded, breathless, feeling the invisible pull between them stretch taut. She picked up the files again, but her hands trembled. She knew that every glance, every touch, every heartbeat between them now carried consequences.
Outside the window, the storm's last echoes rumbled faintly, but inside, the real tempest had only just begun.