After Hours

Chapter 3

The city glittered beneath the skyline as Ella stepped out of the cab, heart fluttering like it had no intention of calming down. She smoothed the front of her dress — soft satin, deep green — something elegant but not too obvious. Still, every inch of her felt exposed. Vulnerable.

Nathan’s penthouse towered above the financial district, all clean lines and glass, like the man himself — sharp, unapproachable, powerful. And now, somehow... hers.

Just for tonight.

The private elevator whisked her up to the top floor. She barely had time to breathe before the doors opened to reveal him, standing barefoot in slacks and a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

Ella’s throat went dry.

“You came,” he said, a small, almost surprised smile playing on his lips.

“You said dinner.” She stepped forward, lifting her chin. “I’m here for the food.”

He chuckled and stepped aside. “Then I hope you’re hungry.”

The space was impossibly sleek — floor-to-ceiling windows, warm lighting, minimalist decor. But her eyes were drawn to him. Always him.

Nathan led her to a dining table near the window, already set. Wine poured. Candles flickered.

“You did all this?” she asked, settling into the chair across from him.

“I don’t invite people here often.” His voice dropped a note. “Actually, never.”

Their eyes locked.

Dinner passed in a blur of laughter, long glances, fingers brushing across the table. He surprised her — not just with how easy he was to talk to, but with how much he listened. She told him about growing up in a small town, her first internship, how hard it was to make rent when she moved to the city.

And Nathan opened up too.

“I didn’t inherit Lancaster Industries,” he said, swirling his wine. “I fought for it. My father ran it into the ground. I built it back.”

She stared at him. “Why did I always assume you were born into it?”

“Because I let people believe that. It’s easier than explaining the mess behind the curtain.”

Ella sat back, watching him in a new light. His armor had cracks — and she liked what peeked through.

As dessert came and went, so did the silence. Heavy. Charged.

He reached for her hand, thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “I’ve been thinking about you every hour since that night.”

Ella’s chest tightened. “Then why the silence?”

“I didn’t want to mess this up before it started.” His jaw flexed. “But that night wasn’t just s*x for me, Ella. It was... a beginning.”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what this is yet. But it’s not nothing.”

He stood, pulling her gently to her feet. “Then come here.”

She let him lead her into the open living room, where city lights spilled across polished floors. His arms circled her waist. Her hands slid up his chest. Their lips met — not rushed this time, but molten, slow-burning.

His hands found the zipper of her dress, dragging it down with deliberate precision. It slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet.

“God,” he murmured, his gaze raking over her. “You’re going to undo me.”

Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, revealing hard lines and heated skin. When they came together, it wasn’t frantic — it was hungry. Familiar and new all at once. She gasped as his mouth traced her collarbone, down her chest, his hands worshiping every curve like he’d memorized her.

He carried her to his bedroom — vast, shadowed, soft sheets waiting. Their bodies moved like they were made to fit, every kiss a question, every touch an answer. She arched beneath him, moaning his name, her nails digging into his back. He whispered hers like a promise.

And when they came undone, it wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper.

Afterward, he didn’t let her go.

They lay tangled beneath the sheets, her head on his chest, his hand in her hair.

“Stay,” he murmured.

She looked up at him, surprised.

His thumb stroked her cheek. “I want more than just tonight.”

Ella searched his face, saw nothing but truth there — and something like fear.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered.

And she meant it.

The next morning, reality crashed down fast.

Ella stepped off the private elevator into the lobby of Lancaster Industries, wearing the same heels as yesterday. Her hair was up now, her coat drawn tight, but the walk of shame was unmistakable — especially when Tanya from HR gave her a long, curious look near the espresso machine.

Dammit.

Back at her desk, she avoided eye contact with everyone, even Ava. Her stomach churned with dread, because if one person knew, the whole floor would know by noon.

Then her phone buzzed.

Nathan:

> Meeting at 10. Boardroom C. Please come.

Please?

She stared at the message. Short. Formal. Cold.

That was fast.

Her heart thudded, torn between two worlds — the man who held her like she meant everything and the CEO who’d just summoned her like every other employee.

Still, she went.

Boardroom C was empty when she arrived, but Nathan stepped in seconds later, shutting the door behind him. His face was unreadable.

“Ella,” he said quietly.

“You went back to calling me like I work under you,” she said, crossing her arms.

“You do work under me,” he replied, his tone low, but not cruel. “And someone’s already asking questions. Tanya saw you walk in this morning. Early.”

Ella’s stomach dropped. “And you’re worried it’ll get out.”

“I’m worried you’ll get hurt,” he snapped. Then he stepped closer, voice softening. “You think I care what they say about me? I’ve survived worse. But you… you don’t deserve to be dragged through that.”

“I don’t want to hide,” she said. “I can’t do this if you only want me behind closed doors.”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I meant what I said last night. But we need to be smart. We’re on a ledge right now. One wrong move…”

He reached for her hand, eyes searching hers. “Let me protect this — protect you.”

Ella hesitated. Her walls were up, but so were his. And still… her fingers curled around his.

“One month,” she said. “We figure this out. Then no more hiding.”

Nathan nodded. “Deal.”

The moment lingered, heavy with what neither of them said — that feelings were growing faster than either of them expected, and neither of them knew how to stop it.

As she left the room, she didn’t feel quite so sure.

This was more than attraction. More than a fling.

And that meant it could hurt a hell of a lot more