“Hey, Aria,” my coworker, Lila, said, flashing a bright smile. “How are you finding our little world here so far?”

I returned the smile. “Honestly? It’s great. I’m loving the new experience. It’s different, but in a good way. I feel like I’m actually learning something fresh every hour.”

“That’s the spirit,” she said, sliding into the chair beside mine. We started talking about the manuscript reviews I was assigned earlier, character development, pacing, tone, all that fun stuff. She listened intently as I shared some of the writing projects I’d worked on before joining Voss Publishing.

When I finished, her eyes widened a little. “Girl, you’re so talented, oh! I had no idea you’d done all that.”

I laughed softly. “I’ve been around words for a while. They feel like home.”

She leaned in a little, lowering her voice. “Speaking of home… Do you know what people call our boss outside this building?”

I blinked. “No, what?”

“The Cold Demon.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Yes now!” she said, whispering dramatically. “They say he’s this shrewd, cold-hearted perfectionist. Barely smiles, never jokes, and if you mess up around him? Forget it. He’ll ice you out faster than HR can type your resignation letter.”

I chuckled, though I didn’t say much. I was still on probation, and gossiping about upper management wasn’t exactly the smartest career move. So I kept my expression polite and neutral.

Lila nudged me. “Come on, what do you think about him? Have you met him yet?”

I smiled faintly, trying to sound casual. “I’ve… seen him from a distance.” It was a half-truth, but a useful one.

“A pity,” she said with a dreamy sigh. “Such a fine, fine man—yet colder than a freezer. Ugh. What a waste of good melanin.”

Her words made me stifle a laugh, but then something strange happened. A sudden warmth crawled up my neck, and I realized, unfortunately, that my ears were burning.

Because, well… she wasn’t wrong.

He was handsome. Striking, actually. Sharp jawline, deep voice, that quiet authority that filled the room even when he wasn’t speaking. I hadn’t really given myself the chance to think about it before, but hearing her say it out loud made my thoughts betray me.

I quickly pushed the thought away and smiled. “Anyway, have you tried that new restaurant that opened just down the street? I heard their Mac and cheese pasta is divine.”

Lila laughed. “Ah, you’re changing the topic! But sure, I’m down for good food gossip anytime.”

We dove into the topic, and the conversation drifted into lighter things- food, music, and the thrill of new beginnings. Still, a small part of my mind stayed annoyingly focused on one thing:

The Cold Demon.

And the way his eyes had lingered the first time we met.

I continued my routine without mishap or drama for weeks- quiet mornings, steady progress, polite smiles- until about two weeks after my resumption, when fate decided to remind me who my boss truly was.

Alexander Bells.

My ex-boyfriend’s father.

My boss.

He’d been away on a business trip since I resumed, which was honestly a relief. His presence always carried this air that felt… heavy. But that afternoon, I wasn’t so lucky.

I had just grabbed a cappuccino from the café downstairs, humming under my breath as I waited for the elevator. The doors slid open, empty. Perfect. I stepped in, pressed my floor, and leaned back, watching the numbers light up one after another.

Then, ding.

The elevator chimed midway. Someone else was joining.

When the doors slid open again, I nearly choked on air.

It was him.

Alexander Bells.

No suit jacket today, just a crisp white shirt tucked into black trousers, the first three buttons undone, revealing just enough of a sculpted chest to make my mind short-circuit. The sleeves were rolled up too, veins visible against tanned skin, wristwatch gleaming. He looked… disarmingly human. And unfairly attractive.

My brain scrambled for composure. “Good afternoon, sir.”

He glanced at me briefly- a calm, assessing look that travelled from my head to my shoes- then back to the elevator panel without a single word.

Classic. Cold Demon behavior.

The silence stretched, thick and unnerving, the hum of the elevator the only sound between us. I tried not to fidget, tried not to think about how small the space suddenly felt, or how his cologne, something expensive and woody, had completely taken over the air.

Just before the elevator reached my floor, his voice broke through the quiet.

“So,” he said, low and deliberate, “how has it been so far?”

For a second, I almost didn’t realize he was talking to me. His tone was so unexpectedly casual, almost conversational.

“It’s… fine, sir,” I managed, clutching my coffee cup like it was some kind of anchor.

He gave a small nod, then closed his eyes, like he’d already had enough of the conversation, or maybe like he was lost in his own thoughts. Either way, the silence returned, heavy and charged.

When the doors finally opened on my floor, I stepped out quickly, muttering a polite “excuse me.” But as the elevator doors slid shut behind me, I caught one last glimpse of him - calm, composed, unreadable.

And for reasons I couldn’t explain, my heart was racing.