I shouldn’t be staring at my boss’s mouth.

But there it was—firm, tense, and unsmiling as usual. And when he looked up from his laptop and caught me watching, my heart lurched like I’d been caught stealing.

“Elena,” he said, voice smooth like aged scotch, “is there something on my face?”

I scrambled to regain composure, clutching the folder tighter. “No, sir. Just… waiting to deliver these reports.”

He leaned back in his chair, a slow, assessing look in his ...