The elevator doors slid open with a soft, metallic chime that sounded, to Elena's ears, exactly like a funeral bell. She didn't need to look up from her tablet to know who was standing at the end of the hallway. The very air in the room shifted, growing thin and suddenly charged with the familiar, unmistakable scent of sandalwood and expensive cologne.
Julian Vance.
It had been five years since he'd looked her in the eye and told her that her position as his personal secretary was "a liability to the firm." She had walked away, rebuilt her life as a freelance consultant, and sworn on every bit of her dignity that she'd never step foot in a Vance Enterprises building again.
Yet, here she was. A massive, high-stakes merger was pending, and the firm's lead lawyers had practically dragged her in to fix the catastrophic data migration errors she had warned them about years ago.
"I didn't think you'd actually show up, Elena," a voice said. It was deeper, rougher than the voice she remembered.
She finally looked up, her expression a cool, rehearsed mask. She took in the sight of him—the tailored charcoal suit, the effortless posture of a man who owned the city, and the same dark eyes that had once held all her secrets.
"I didn't come for you, Mr. Vance," Elena replied, her voice steady despite the way her heart was hammering against her ribs. "I came because your legal department is desperate, and I have a mortgage."
Julian stepped closer, his gaze searching hers with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. "We need to talk, Elena. About the past."
"The past is exactly where it belongs," she said, cutting him off before he could get any closer. She stepped around him, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. "Let's talk about the system. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"
As she walked toward the boardroom, she could feel his eyes on her back—the same look that used to make her feel like the most important person in the world, and the same look that had shattered her five years ago.