Chapter Three: After Hours
969 Words
One office. One man. One woman. And the silence between them thick enough to taste.
Elena didn’t notice the time until her laptop dimmed to sleep mode.
10:47 PM. The entire floor was dark, except for the soft glow from the CEO’s office. She rubbed her eyes, massaging her aching temples. She hadn’t meant to stay this late, but the day had been chaotic, and she was determined to prove herself. She stood, stretched, and gathered her things. Then she paused. The light in Damien’s office was still on. Was he still working? She knocked softly.
“Come in.”
His voice was quiet, low, almost tired. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. He sat behind his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up again, tie loosened, top two buttons undone. His jacket was draped over a chair. A glass of scotch sat untouched at his side, ice long melted.
“You’re still here,” he said, not looking up from his screen.
“I could say the same to you.”
“Deadlines don’t care about bedtime.”
She chuckled softly, walking closer. “Neither do stubborn CEOs.”
That got a reaction. He looked up. Really looked. And for a second, the man behind the ruthless mask peeked through.
“You didn’t have to stay late,” he said.
“I wanted to finish the quarterly summaries.”
“Impressing me won’t be easy, Miss Hart.”
“I’m not trying to impress you,” she said, voice soft. “I’m trying to earn my place.”
He stood slowly. His movements were always measured, deliberate. Like a lion deciding whether to pounce.
“I don’t hire people easily,” he said, walking around the desk. “And I trust them even less.”
She tilted her chin up. “Then why did you hire me?”
His eyes met hers. A long pause.
“Because you didn’t flinch.”
Her breath caught. He stepped closer. The office suddenly felt too small. Too quiet.
“Most people are intimidated by me,” he continued. “They either want something from me... or fear me.”
“And me?”
He studied her.
“You confuse me.”
They were only inches apart now. She could feel the heat of him, the faint scent of scotch and expensive cologne. He reached out, slowly, and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was soft. Barely there. But it lit a fire under her skin.
“You should go home, Elena,” he said, her name a whisper between them.
“I was going to.”
“Then why haven’t you moved?”
Her lips parted.
“Because…” she said, barely audible, “I’m trying to decide if crossing this line will ruin everything.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“You want to cross it?” he asked.
She swallowed. “Do you?”
His jaw clenched. For a moment, something wild sparked in his eyes.
Then he stepped back.
“Yes,” he said. “But I won’t. Not yet.”
The words sent heat racing down her spine. He looked at her one last time, then walked back to his desk.
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“Go home. Before I forget how tempting you are.”
Elena’s body buzzed, but her feet stayed rooted to the floor. He’d stepped away. Told her to leave. But something in his eyes said he hadn’t really meant it. She gathered her things slowly, giving herself a moment to breathe, to steady the chaos thumping through her veins.
“I’m not trying to get something.” she said softly.
Damien looked up from his screen. “I know.”
“Then why do you look at me like I am?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Elena,” he said quietly. “That’s the problem.”
Her heart twisted. He didn’t want her to be perfect. He wanted her to give him a reason to push her away.
“You’re not what I expected,” he added.
She gave a sad smile. “Neither are you.”
The tension hovered thick between them. Then, without thinking, she stepped toward his desk and placed the neatly bound summaries in front of him.
“I finished these. You’ll need them for the investor briefing tomorrow.”
His fingers brushed hers as he reached for the file. The contact jolted them both. Elena sucked in a breath, and Damien exhaled, slow and heavy. His eyes dropped to her mouth. His knuckles brushed the inside of her wrist. It wasn’t innocent. It was deliberate.
“Damien,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He didn’t answer.
He stood again, close enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him.
His hand hovered near her waist, but didn’t touch. His breath ghosted her cheek. “You make me want to break my rules.”
“You already are,” she whispered.
His hand finally touched her hip. One touch. Firm. Possessive. But then... He dropped it. Swore under his breath and turned away like it burned him.
“Elena,” he said, voice hoarse, “you need to go. Now.”
She didn’t argue this time. She walked out of the office, heart thudding in her chest, hands shaking as she pressed the elevator button. The doors opened. But just before they closed, a voice stopped them.
“Elena.”
She turned. Damien sanding next to her. “Lock the door behind you." She blinked, stepping inside the elevator. “What?” His voice was lower this time. Rougher.
“I don’t want anyone else seeing you right now. I can't afford rumors going about, about me.”
The elevator doors slid shut before she could answer.
- Writer
