Chapter 4
1442 Words
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The click of my heels echoed down the marble hallway like a countdown to something I couldn’t quite name. I had barely stepped into the office when Marcus, my boss, lifted his head and motioned for me to enter.
“Close the door,” he said, his eyes already scanning the folder on his desk.
Just three words and already, I had a headache.
His office always smelled the same—wood polish, strong espresso, and barely suppressed tension. I walked in, shutting the door gently behind me, and tried to ignore the way my name was paper-clipped to the thick folder sitting dead center on his desk.
I hadn’t even spoken, and already my stomach twisted.
“Take a seat,” he said without looking up. “You’ve been reassigned.”
“To what?” I asked cautiously, sitting straight in the leather chair across from him.
He finally looked at me. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, had the faintest hint of unease behind them.
“You’re being moved full-time onto the De Luca case.”
I blinked, sure I had misheard him. “I thought I was only brought in temporarily to consult.”
“You were,” he confirmed, then leaned back with a sigh. “But they specifically requested you. Said you were… thorough. Detail-oriented. Ash liked your delivery.”
Ash.
His name alone made the air in the room feel warmer, heavier. I could still hear his voice, laced with a kind of casual danger, like every word was both a joke and a threat.
“He requested me?” I asked slowly.
Marcus gave a noncommittal shrug. “Something about your no-nonsense attitude and legal accuracy. He seems to think you don’t bore easily.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Right.”
And then, like the universe hadn’t already handed me enough to juggle, Marcus added casually, “You won’t be working alone.”
I stiffened. “Who’s the partner?”
He flipped the folder toward me.
Eli Navarro.
I stared at the name. My breath caught.
My ex.
My first heartbreak.
The man who taught me exactly what betrayal tasted like.
“You’re joking,” I said flatly.
Marcus gave me one of those lawyer shrugs—part apology, part deal with it.
“Look, I know it’s not ideal, but Eli knows the De Luca family's contracts better than anyone on our team. You two balance each other out. You’re precision, he’s street-savvy. Think of it as strategy, not sentiment.”
Strategy. Right.
Like getting stabbed by someone you used to love was just another boardroom decision.
“I haven’t spoken to Eli in over a year,” I reminded him, my voice tight.
“And you won’t have to,” Marcus said, steepling his fingers. “Just do your job.”
I pushed back my chair and stood, holding back the retort burning at the back of my throat.
“This is going to be a nightmare.”
Marcus smiled faintly. “Then take aspirin. You start tomorrow.”
I left his office with heat crawling up the back of my neck, my thoughts a tangled mess. Ash and Eli. Mafia contracts. Me stuck in the middle of two men who had the power to unravel me, just in completely different ways.
My heels clicked across the floor like gunshots. The elevator dinged open, and there he was.
Eli.
Same familiar frame in a tailored black suit. Still taller than I remembered, still impossibly calm. That damn crooked tie knot, like he never learned to fix it right.
His eyes locked onto mine immediately.
“Celeste,” he said, and the way he said it made it sound like a memory.
I didn’t flinch. “Eli.”
I stepped into the elevator without another word. He followed, of course, like gravity never stopped pulling us into the same spaces. The doors shut, and we stood there—side by side—breathing the same heavy air.
Two floors passed before he finally spoke.
“So… looks like we’re working together.”
“Apparently,” I said coolly. “Try not to make it more painful than it already is.”
He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like a flick to the back of my skull.
“You’re still sharp,” he said. “I missed that.”
I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes locked on the elevator doors, silently counting the seconds.
The truth?
I missed who I used to be before him.
Before Ash.
Before all of this.
The elevator opened, and I stepped out without another word.
But even as I walked away, the throbbing behind my temples worsened.
This wasn't just business anymore.
It was history. Secrets. Unfinished wars.
And I was the only i***t holding the match.
---
I stood outside the conference room door, folder clutched so tightly in my hands the edges bent. Inside, I could already hear muffled voices—Ash’s low and smooth like expensive liquor, Eli’s more clipped, professional. Controlled.
I wasn’t ready.
Not for this room. Not for those eyes.
Not for him.
I pushed the door open anyway, schooling my expression into something blank and bored. That was my armor. That was how I survived these people.
“Navarro,” Ash said without looking up, flipping through pages of the contract spread across the table. He leaned back in his chair like he owned the building. Maybe he did. “Glad you could join us.”
His tone was casual, but when his eyes met mine, something flickered there—curiosity, mischief, maybe even something softer.
I ignored it.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said crisply, sliding into the seat beside Eli. I didn’t look at him either. My skin prickled with how close we were.
Eli leaned slightly toward me, voice low. “Thought you weren’t going to show.”
“I considered it,” I muttered.
Ash tilted his head. “Are we interrupting something personal?”
I turned to him, smile sharp. “Just talking business.”
He smirked like he didn’t believe a word of it.
I opened the folder and began flipping through legal points just to avoid eye contact. The room was warm—too warm—and the scent of Ash’s cologne drifted across the table. Subtle, clean, dangerous. Just like him.
“As I was saying,” Ash continued, “we need a reworked clause in Section 4B. If we don’t tighten the non-disclosure protections, this whole partnership could leak before it even launches.”
I cleared my throat, pushing down the nerves. “The clause already holds up under federal standards. You want language that guarantees silence even under duress.”
Ash’s gaze sharpened. “Exactly.”
Beside me, Eli tapped his pen. “That’s not entirely legal.”
Ash smiled faintly. “I didn’t ask if it was. I asked if it could be done.”
My jaw tightened. “There are workarounds. Strategic language. Gray areas.”
Ash leaned forward, his voice like a challenge. “You’re good at gray, aren’t you, Celeste?”
The room went silent. Eli stiffened beside me.
I didn’t blink. “I’m good at not getting my clients arrested.”
Ash grinned, clearly enjoying this. “Then we’ll get along fine.”
I swallowed hard. His eyes didn’t leave mine. Not once.
The meeting rolled on, contracts reviewed, terms debated, pressure mounting with every word. Eli and I played verbal tennis—efficient, cool, painfully aware of the tension neither of us acknowledged. But Ash? He watched me more than he read the papers. Like I was the most interesting part of the room.
When it ended, Ash stood first. “I’ll be seeing more of you, Celeste.”
I closed my folder slowly. “Professionally.”
“Of course,” he said. But the smile he gave me said otherwise.
I didn’t look back until I was halfway down the hallway. Only then did I let my breath out.
Eli caught up to me a moment later. “You handled that well.”
“That wasn’t a meeting,” I said, rubbing my temples. “That was psychological warfare.”
He shrugged. “Ash has that effect. You just didn’t flinch. He likes that.”
I stopped walking. “I’m not here for him to like me. I’m here to do my job.”
Eli looked at me for a moment, then said quietly, “Then be careful, Celeste. Because liking him back? That’s where it starts.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
---
- Writer
