No Safe Harbor
1016 Words
Ariana knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into the office.
There was a hush in the air, a brittle anticipation that made her stomach twist. Even the receptionist barely looked up when she murmured her greeting.
She hadn’t slept. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, she dreamed of Xavier’s face—sometimes as it had been in their happiest moments, other times shadowed with that cold fury she’d never been able to forget.
The morning light through the tall windows felt too bright, too sharp, as if it were exposing every secret she’d fought to bury.
You’re overreacting, she tried to tell herself. It’s just business. He doesn’t care enough to chase you across the world.
But deep down, she knew it was a lie.
Gregory Vance was standing near her desk when she approached, his phone in one hand. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his expression composed—but the lines around his eyes were more pronounced today, a sure sign of strain.
“Ariana,” he said quietly. “I need a moment of your time.”
Her heart fluttered. “Of course.”
He gestured for her to follow him into his office. The moment the door closed, the fragile composure she’d built around herself began to crack.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, her voice too thin.
Gregory sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I won’t pretend this isn’t a complicated time. Williams Corp is accelerating negotiations. The lawyers are finalizing the contracts. If all goes according to plan, the transition will happen sooner than expected.”
Her mouth went dry. “How soon?”
“Possibly within the next month.”
Her vision blurred. She forced herself to focus on the brass clock ticking on the bookshelf.
“You should know,” he continued, softer now, “I’ll do everything I can to protect my staff through the process. Including you.”
Something inside her nearly collapsed at the kindness in his voice.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Gregory hesitated, studying her in that way he did sometimes, as if he could see straight through the walls she’d built.
“If there’s anything you want to tell me—anything at all—this would be the time.”
For one wild moment, she almost confessed everything: the marriage she’d never spoken of, the man she’d run from, the fear that had never stopped following her.
But the words refused to come.
Instead, she said the only thing she could: “I appreciate that. Truly.”
He nodded slowly. “Then let’s get through this together.”
---
By the time she returned to her desk, her limbs felt too heavy, her mind hollow.
She sank into her chair, staring blindly at the reports she was meant to review.
A month.
One month, and the life she’d pieced together would unravel.
---
Xavier didn’t bother hiding his impatience as he strode through the conference suite of the Williams Corp headquarters.
His assistant scrambled to keep up, tablet in hand.
“The Vance acquisition timeline has been updated, sir. We’ll need your signature on the amended agreement—”
“Later,” he cut in.
“Understood.”
They reached the glass-walled meeting room, where Warren was already waiting. He leaned back in his chair, watching Xavier with that inscrutable calm he reserved for the moments he disapproved but knew better than to say so.
“You look like you haven’t slept,” Warren observed.
Xavier didn’t answer.
Warren tapped the screen of his phone. “The due diligence is done. No surprises in the numbers. You’ve got a clean path to the buyout.”
“Good.”
“And her?”
Xavier’s gaze flickered. “She’s still there.”
Warren’s brows lifted a fraction. “And what happens when she realizes you’re behind this?”
“She will.” His tone was quiet but final. “That’s the point.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“I’m already burned.”
For a moment, neither man spoke. Then Xavier turned away, staring out at the skyline.
“Prepare the final paperwork,” he ordered.
“And after that?” Warren asked.
Xavier’s jaw clenched. “I don’t care how it looks. She’s coming home.”
---
That night, Ariana stood on her tiny balcony, the city stretched out below like a map she no longer recognized.
Her hands shook as she held her phone, the urge to call Lena nearly overwhelming. But what would she say? That the past she’d run from was coming for her? That she still woke in the dark, gasping, her heart trapped between fear and something she couldn’t name?
She forced herself to set the phone down.
She was done being that woman—the one who let him consume her.
You’re stronger now, she told herself.
But when she closed her eyes, she still felt the weight of his hands on her skin.
---
Xavier poured a measure of whiskey into a crystal glass, his movements precise.
He didn’t pretend this acquisition was rational anymore.
It wasn’t about profit.
It was about the single name in the company registry that mattered more than any asset:
Ariana Jones.
Three years had done nothing to dull the memory of her mouth, her scent, the way she’d looked at him before she’d learned to hate him.
He raised the glass to his lips, the burn a welcome distraction.
It wouldn’t be long now.
And when she looked at him again, she would remember what it meant to belong to him.
---
The next morning, Ariana woke before dawn, her heart already hammering.
She pulled on her clothes in silence, her movements automatic.
By the time she reached the office, she felt like a woman preparing for battle.
And as she settled into her chair, her gaze drifted to the clock above Gregory’s door.
Every tick of the second hand sounded like a countdown.
She just didn’t know what she was counting down to—her ruin, or her reckoning.
- Writer
