The Art Of Loosing Control
997 Words
Lena couldn’t move.
Nico’s door was shut, but the words echoed in her skull like a ricochet:
Now I’m losing.
She had come here to win a contract. Land a campaign. Prove herself.
Not… this.
Not him.
Not whatever it was that burned beneath the surface every time their eyes locked.
Lena forced herself into her room, breathing too fast. She tossed her phone on the bed like it burned and peeled off her blazer. Her hands were trembling.
She needed to focus. She needed control.
Instead, she opened her laptop and sat there staring at a blinking cursor while her heart thudded like a traitor in her chest.
A soft knock made her jump.
She half-expected it to be Nico.
But when she opened the door, Sophie stood there with two wine glasses and an unopened bottle of Swiss red.
“White flag?” Sophie offered.
Lena hesitated, then stepped aside.
“I thought you might need a break from my brother’s charming personality,” Sophie said, settling onto the couch as she opened the suite.
“Is this a trap?” Lena asked.
Sophie grinned. “Only if you’re scared.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Then drink.”
Lena poured.
A beat passed.
“So,” Sophie began, crossing her legs elegantly. “Tell me something honest.” No pitch. No polish.”
Lena arched her brow. “About what?”
“My brother,” Sophie said. “You and my brother.”
Lena nearly choked on her wine. “There is no ‘me and your brother.’”
Sophie tilted her head. “That’s not what it looked like before you followed him to the back of the plane.”
Lena went still.
“I’m not judging,” Sophie said softly. But I’ve known Nico my entire life. And he doesn’t look at people the way he looks at you.”
Lena took a slow sip of wine. “We’re working together. That’s all.”
“Sure,” Sophie said. “And I fly commercials.”
Lena couldn’t help but laugh.
Sophie leaned in, her tone more serious now. “Just be careful.” Nico didn’t let people close. When he does… It’s complicated.”
“I’m not trying to get close,” Lena said. “I’m trying to do my job.”
Sophie gave her a long, unreadable look. “Then do it better than anyone. Because if you fall, he won’t be the one picking you up.”
The words landed like a warning. Sharp. Real.
By the time Sophie left, Lena’s wine was half-finished, and her brain was spinning faster than ever.
She needed air.
Throwing on her coat, she slipped out of the suite. The Zurich night was crisp and clear, the city lights glittering across the Limmat River.
She texted Arlo:
“You were right. This campaign’s getting under my skin.”
He replied instantly:
“It’s not the campaign, babe. It’s the CEO.”
She sighed and tucked the phone away. Walked farther into the night, letting the wind slap some sense back into her.
But when she returned to the hotel nearly an hour later, something had shifted.
She was done pretending.
Back in the suite, the living room was dim, Nico’s door still shut.
She dropped her coat and opened her laptop again. Her fingers flew.
Strategy. Headlines. Slide deck. Metrics.
Control.
An hour passed.
Then: a soft knock.
This time it was Nico.
He didn’t speak right away; he just leaned against the door frame, his eyes shadowed.
“I saw your updated draft,” he said finally. “It’s… brilliant.”
Lena’s brows lifted. “Were you just giving me a compliment?”
He stepped inside. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Her lips curved, but she didn’t look away. “Why did you say it? Earlier. That you’re losing.”
His gaze darkened. “Because I meant it.”
She stood. Slowly. “You think letting yourself feel something is weakness.”
“I know it is.”
“Well,” she said, stepping closer, “then we’re both losing.”
Their eyes met.
No distance left.
And then
His mouth was on hers.
This time she didn’t hold back. Didn’t think. Just felt.
Heat. Hunger. Everything they’d tried to suppress was igniting all at once.
Her hands tangled in his shirt. His grip bruised her waist. They moved like a fuse had been lit, desperate and unrelenting.
But just as quickly, he pulled back. Breathing hard. Eyes wild.
“We can’t,” he muttered, stepping away like he’d touched fire.
She stared at him, throat raw. “Why not?”
“Because this,” he gestured between them, “changes everything.”
“You have already changed everything,” she whispered.
He didn’t reply. I just turned and left the room again.
Alone, Lena backed up slowly until her legs hit the couch. She sat hard, her chest still rising and falling.
Her phone buzzed.
Arlo again:
“Jason just posted something. You need to see this.”
Lena frowned and opened the link.
It was a screenshot of a press release.
Jason Wyatt.
Cole & Wyatt.
Announcing a new luxury brand partnership.
With the same campaign concept Lena had just pitched.
Her pitch.
Stolen.
Her name wasn’t mentioned once.
Beneath the post, comments were flooding in:
“Genius strategy!”
“Cole & Wyatt leading the industry again.”
“Jason Wyatt never misses.”
“Same vibes as that Wolfe preview… coincidence?”
Lena’s blood ran cold.
Jason hadn’t just followed her into this space. He’d copied her work. And he was doing it publicly, daring her to react.
Her hands curled into fists.
The room suddenly felt smaller. The walls are pressing in.
She stood up, heart pounding.
Nico had just trusted her with his company.
She had just risked everything with him.
And now?
Jason Wyatt was about to burn it all down.
- Writer
