The skyline outside Blackwood Tower was ink-black, stitched with lights.

 Inside, the top floor was still alive, with only one office glowing.

The glass walls caught my reflection as I stood by my desk, sleeves rolled, eyes glued to my screen, fingers moving in sharp, swift motions across the keyboard.

I barely blinked.

At the far end of the room, Lara hesitated by the door, clearly wilting.

"Ma'am," she said softly, her voice cautious. 

"It's almost ten. I...my daughter's waiting for me. I need to-"

"No."

The word cut like a blade.

Lara flinched.

"But I've finished the files-"

"You'll leave when I say you can," I snapped, still not looking at her. 

"If that's a problem, HR accepts resignations via email."

Silence.

Lara's hand trembled slightly on her purse strap.

She stood there another moment before whispering, "I'm sorry."

And she slipped out the door.

The office was quiet again.

Too quiet.

Until...

Click.

The door opened slowly.

Rhys stepped in.

I didn't look up. My voice was like ice. "Did I say you could enter?"

"I-" he paused, his voice low, formal. 

"Forgive the intrusion, Ms. Blackwood. I only wanted to check if you needed anything before I left."

My fingers stopped typing.

I looked up.

Slowly.

My gaze was sharp and unreadable, the silence pulsing between us.

"What is it with everyone thinking I need something?" I asked coldly.

Rhys kept his posture straight. Professional. Hands behind his back.

"I meant refreshments. Or a courier sent—"

"I don't need you to check on me, Mr. Morgan. You're my secretary, not my damn babysitter."

"Yes, ma'am," he said simply.

Still respectful. Still calm.

Still there.

I stepped out from behind my desk. My heels echoed against the marble floors.

"I don't know what kind of ridiculous, soft office culture you're used to," I hissed. 

"But I don't play nice. I don't do 'wellness checks' or casual banter. And I especially don't need men walking into my office thinking they're entitled to my time."

His gaze didn't waver.

"I understand, Ms. Blackwood."

"Do you?" My voice rose.

"Because you've been here less than twenty-four hours and you've already mistaken basic obedience for familiarity."

Rhys took a breath, choosing his words with care.

"I apologize if I overstepped."

"You did."

I walked past him, toward the window, my arms crossed like armor.

"You want to help?" I said, not turning around. 

"Know your place. Don't speak unless spoken to. And next time, knock. Wait. Then leave if I don't answer. Is that clear?"

A pause.

Then his voice, low and even

"Yes, ma'am."

He left.

And the door closed behind him, silent. Polite.

But for the first time in years, I stood there...

And I felt something.

Anger, yes.

But under it, heat.

Not from rage.

From presence.

******

The soft tick of the grandfather clock in my office echoed louder now that the building had gone silent.

11:13 PM.

I shut my laptop with a clean click, then slipped into my tailored blazer.

The silence wrapped around me like armor. 

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glowed—distant, artificial stars twinkling from skyscraper glass and neon signs far below.

I didn't bother checking my phone.

People who mattered knew not to disturb me. And people who disturbed me never mattered long.

I walked across the marble floor with the rhythm of someone who never second-guessed a step.

I opened my office door

And stopped.

Rhys was standing there.

Arms loosely folded, his back against the wall beside my door. 

His posture was casual, but respectful. As if he'd been waiting for exactly this moment.

He straightened the second he saw me.

My eyes narrowed, but I said nothing for a long beat.

I didn't like being surprised. I hated being watched.

Especially by a man.

"Why are you still here?" I asked icily.

Rhys stood tall, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I wasn't sure you had anyone left on this floor. I thought it best to wait... in case you needed anything before leaving."

I scoffed lightly. "Do I look like a woman who needs to be walked to her car?"

"No, ma'am."

I stepped forward, brushing past him like he was just a shadow on the wall.

"Then don't insult me."

"I meant no disrespect, ma'am."

I stopped just past him and turned my head slightly, not enough to look at him, just enough to let my words reach him coldly.

"You're making a habit of appearing where I don't want you. Be careful with that."

I didn't wait for a response.

My heels struck against the corridor floor in perfect rhythm, the hallway lights catching my silhouette as I walked toward the private elevator. 

The doors opened for me as if the building itself obeyed.

Seconds later, I was gliding into the basement garage.

My car, sleek, black, and silent, waited at the far end.

 My driver quickly stepped out to open the back door. 

He bowed his head slightly, not daring to meet my gaze.

I was about to step in

But something flickered in my peripheral vision.

Movement. Past the garage's security glass.

I turned my head slowly.

There.

Across the wide glass wall that faced the street, Rhys Morgan was walking outside the building.

His sleeves were rolled up slightly now, blazer draped over one shoulder, tie loosened.

His steps were quiet but steady.

Calm.

No car waited for him.

No one followed.

He didn't even glance back.

He simply walked into the night like he belonged to it.

Something twisted in my stomach. Not desire. Not guilt.

Just... confusion.

I slid into the backseat, expression unreadable.

"Home, ma'am?" My driver asked.

I didn't answer at first.

Then, finally "Drive."

The car pulled away, but my eyes stayed on that sidewalk long after Rhys had disappeared into the night.