In the Shadows
737 Words
Ariana tried to convince herself that the merger wouldn’t touch her.
She told herself it was only business, the way Gregory described it. That she was just another employee—anonymous, unremarkable, safe.
But no matter how many times she repeated the words in her mind, they rang hollow.
She could feel the shift in the office, subtle as a change in air pressure. People lowered their voices when they passed her desk. The management team looked tense, their polite smiles stretched too thin.
Gregory stopped by late that afternoon, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead.
“You’re working too much,” he said gently.
“I like staying busy,” Ariana replied, arranging her pens so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.
“I know.” He paused, studying her the way an older brother might. “And I respect your privacy. But if you ever need help…you only have to ask.”
Her throat tightened. She didn’t deserve his kindness. Gregory and his wife had been nothing but good to her since the day she’d arrived. They’d given her a place to start over, a chance to remember who she’d been before she was Mrs. Williams.
And still, she couldn’t tell them everything.
Some truths were too dangerous to share.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded once. “You should go home. It’s late.”
“I will.”
But after he left, she sat motionless in her chair, staring at the glowing screen.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Williams Corp. About the empire she’d once belonged to by marriage—and how it felt to walk away from all of it with nothing but a suitcase.
---
Xavier watched the city lights from his penthouse window, one hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey.
The Vance acquisition was progressing faster than he’d anticipated. Gregory’s team had offered less resistance than he’d hoped.
A part of him almost wished they’d fought harder. That he could have earned the right to step into Ariana’s world again by force alone.
But no—he had never needed permission to take what he wanted.
And she was still his.
He turned away from the view, his gaze falling on the folder Warren had sent over that afternoon.
Another photograph.
This time, it was clear enough to steal his breath.
Ariana, crossing a rainy street, her dark hair loose around her face. She was thinner now. Paler. But she was still the woman who had once looked up at him as if he were her entire world.
He traced the edge of her image with his thumb, an ache spreading through his chest.
Three years.
Three years of pretending he didn’t care.
Three years of telling himself she’d been a mistake he could erase.
But the truth was simpler.
She had never been a mistake.
She had been the only real thing in his life.
And he was done pretending otherwise.
---
Ariana dreamed of him that night.
In the dream, she was back in their old bedroom—her hair damp from the shower, her skin warm under his hands.
He was watching her with that look he only wore when no one else was around—something fierce and possessive and almost tender.
Don’t leave, he whispered against her ear. You belong here.
Her body remembered every place he’d touched, every word he’d breathed against her skin.
She woke with her heart racing, her sheets tangled around her thighs, her face wet with tears she refused to name.
It was just a dream, she told herself.
But deep down, she knew better.
It was a warning.
---
Miles glanced up from the breakfast table when Ariana stumbled into the kitchen, her eyes shadowed.
“Bad night?” he asked, studying her carefully.
“The usual.”
Lena shot her husband a look and rose to pour Ariana a cup of coffee. “It’ll get better,” she promised.
Ariana wanted to believe her.
But some things never got better.
Some ghosts never stopped hunting you.
---
And in Manhattan, Xavier sat alone in his office, the city waking beneath him.
He wasn’t sure when he’d finally closed his eyes. He only knew that when he did, he dreamed of her mouth, her hands, her voice whispering his name.
The time for dreaming was over.
Soon, she’d be back where she belonged.
With him.
---
- Writer
