I rush into the office like I’m being chased by the devil himself.

Well, technically, I am, the devil in a tailored shirt with the first three buttons undone.

My heart still thunders from that brief elevator ride with him. Alexander Bells. My boss. My ex-boyfriend’s father. The man who shouldn’t make my knees weak, but somehow does just by existing.

I drop into my chair, trying to shake off the flush on my cheeks. Before I can even breathe, Lila appears, leaning on my desk with a mischievous grin and a chocolate bar in hand.

“Why do you look like you just saw your crush?” she teases, breaking the chocolate in half. “You’re all pink and glowing. Spill, girl.”

I force out a nervous laugh. “Who even gets a crush that fast? I only just started this job.”

She snorts. “Mhm. Sure. Keep lying to yourself.”

“I’m serious,” I say quickly, then lower my voice, pretending to wince. “It’s just my period. My face gets flushed like that sometimes.”

Her expression softens. “Oh, girl, same! Mine gets all puffy, and I swear my legs start hurting like I’m nine months pregnant.”

I laugh with her, relieved she bought it. If she ever finds out the reason for my flushed look is our dangerously gorgeous boss, I’ll never hear the end of it.

Once she leaves, I bury myself in manuscripts. It’s safer that way, no thoughts, no feelings, just red ink and track changes. I get lost in the words, editing one proposal after another until the sky outside dims into a violet haze.

When I finally glance at the clock, it’s almost closing time. My back aches. My brain hums. I pack my things and head home, where I end up on a late-night call with my best friend, Tracy until her boyfriend interrupts, like always.

The rest of the week passes in a blur of coffee cups, deadlines, and stolen glances I pretend not to notice.

Then Monday arrives again.

I wear a pink floral dress that feels both soft and brave, pair it with silver heels, and try to look like a woman who has her life together. As I step through the revolving doors of Voss Media, a sleek black car pulls up beside the curb.

He steps out.

Alexander.

Even at eight a.m., he looks sinfully composed, sharp Armani suit, watch glinting under the morning sun, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Good morning, sir,” I say, forcing a polite smile.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even glance at me. Just walks past with that cold, controlled air that makes everyone shrink back.

And yet my heart… doesn’t get the memo. It races like a fool.

I sit down at my desk, annoyed at myself. I’ve been single for all of three weeks, just got cheated on, just ruined my own peace, and here I am catching feelings for the father of the man who broke my heart.

Could I be any more pathetic?

Before I can spiral, my supervisor, Mrs Adans walks in. “Aria, there’ll be a presentation tomorrow. You’ll be presenting your progress report. The CEO will be attending.”

The CEO.

Alexander Bells.

I nod automatically. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

But inside, I’m dying.

When she leaves, I put my face in my hands and groan.

God, how am I supposed to present in front of him? The man makes my pulse skip just by breathing near me. I try to give myself a pep talk, this is work, not an emotional circus. You came here to prove yourself, not fall apart over a man again.

So I dive into my slides. Fonts, layouts, numbers. I focus hard enough that I almost forget about the rest of the world, until my phone buzzes.

It’s a message.

From Ethan.

I wondered how he managed to escape being blocked despite everything he did to me, maybe it’s because I have been busy since the whole breakup scenario.

The contact name still reads Eth—the one . My stomach twists.

If you ever disrespect Chrissy again, I’ll make sure you regret it.

I laugh out loud before I can stop myself. People glance my way, confused. I quickly mute the sound and type back a single line.

Fuck you.

Then I block him. Finally.

The silence after that feels holy.

I work late into the night, perfecting my slides. The office grows quiet, one by one, until it’s just me and the hum of the AC. When I finally pack up, it’s past eight. The hallway lights flicker faintly, and the sound of my heels echoes too loudly against the marble floor.

As I reach for the elevator, I hear footsteps.

Slow. Heavy. Behind me.

My blood turns to ice. The security guard had left to check the west wing twenty minutes ago, he told me he’d be back by nine, but it’s already past that.

I grip the nearest object I can find — a stapler. Useless, but it’s something. My heart slams against my ribs as the footsteps draw closer.

Don’t panic, Aria. Just breathe.

The steps stop right outside my door. I hold my breath, position myself behind it, and raise the stapler like a weapon.

The door creaks open. I swing,

and a strong hand catches my wrist midair.

“Easy,” a deep voice says, calm, unshaken.

A flashlight clicks on, flooding the room.

It’s him.

Alexander Bells.

I freeze. He looks at me like he’s trying to decide if I’m insane or just scared. The light dances across his sharp jawline, the fine lines near his eyes, the faint exhaustion that only makes him more magnetic.

“Miss Dane,” he says slowly, lowering my hand. “Is this how you usually greet your boss after hours?”

My throat goes dry. “I—I thought someone was following me.”

He studies me for a long second, then nods once. “You shouldn’t work this late alone. The building’s quiet after eight. Too quiet.”

There’s a faint warning in his tone, like he’s scolding me, but beneath it, there’s something else. Something protective.

“I was just finishing my slides for tomorrow,” I mumble.

He glances at my laptop bag, then back at me. “Dedication is admirable. Just try not to die for it.”

I manage a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

He turns to leave, then pauses at the doorway, eyes flicking over me briefly, not lingering, but enough to make my breath catch.

“Goodnight, Miss Dane.”

“Goodnight, Mr Bells.”

When the door closes behind him, I press a hand to my chest. My heart is still racing, but not from fear anymore.

And I can’t decide which is worse.