The storm had not eased. If anything, it had grown angrier, the sky cracking open with flashes of white that turned the whole city into a silhouette. The building trembled with every growl of thunder, and yet inside the dimly lit lounge, the silence between us felt louder than the storm itself.

I sat on the edge of the leather sofa, hugging my knees as though that could steady my racing thoughts. I told myself I should sleep. I told myself that this was nothing more than an inconvenience a night trapped by bad weather, nothing more.

But I couldn’t sleep. Not when he was in the next room. Not when his voice, his nearness, his words You intrigue me echoed in my head like a song I couldn’t stop replaying.

The soft sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Ethan standing at the doorway, his tie completely gone now, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his elbows. He looked nothing like the cold CEO the world feared. He looked… human. Vulnerable, even.

“You’re still awake,” he said quietly.

“So are you,” I whispered back.

He crossed the room slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. My heart pounded harder with each step, as though warning me, begging me to run. But I stayed rooted to the spot.

When he reached me, he didn’t sit right away. He just stood there, watching me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. Finally, he lowered himself beside me, close enough that our knees brushed.

“I should keep my distance,” he said softly, almost to himself.

I swallowed hard. “So should I.”

Our eyes met, and in that moment, I realized neither of us had any intention of keeping that distance.

“Aria…” My name sounded different in his mouth, hushed and reverent, like a secret he wasn’t supposed to speak aloud.

“Yes?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Tell me to stop.”

I should have. I should have reminded him he was my boss, that this was reckless, that nothing good could come of it. But the words wouldn’t come. My lips parted, and all I managed was a trembling breath.

And then he leaned in.

The kiss was nothing like I imagined and everything I feared. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t desperate. It was slow, almost questioning, as though he was giving me every chance to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

The world outside disappeared the storm, the city, the rules that had kept us apart. There was only the warmth of his mouth, the steady strength of his hand as it brushed against my jaw, the way my body melted against his like it had been waiting for this moment all along.

When we finally pulled apart, I was breathless, my cheeks burning, my heart threatening to burst.

“This is wrong,” I whispered, even as my fingers clung to his shirt.

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against mine. “But I can’t stay away from you.”

The honesty in his voice shattered the last of my resistance. And when his lips found mine again, deeper this time, I let myself fall.

The storm raged on, but inside, everything was soft. Dreamlike. His laughter, quiet and rare, brushed against my skin like a promise I knew he couldn’t keep. My hands traced the lines of his shoulders, memorizing a man I knew didn’t belong to me. His words were whispers against my ear, half confessions, half apologies.

And still, I stayed.

Because for one night just one forbidden night I wanted to forget who we were. Forget that he was the boss, and I was the girl who could never belong in his world. Forget the walls I had built around myself and let myself feel everything I had tried so hard to deny.

When the storm finally began to fade, dawn softening the skyline into muted pinks and grays, I lay with my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A rhythm I knew I shouldn’t get used to.

“Aria,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Yes?”

“This can’t happen again.”

The words cut through me sharper than the morning chill. I knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the sting.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. “I know.”

And yet, as I lay there, tangled in the warmth of him, I couldn’t help but wonder if one night would ever truly be enough.