From Dictator to lover

The Morning After

Nicholas’s POV

I’d barely slept.

Harper’s voice, her questions, her smile—they’d followed me home, lingering in my mind far longer than they should have. She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin like this. She wasn’t supposed to make me feel… anything.

When I walked into the office the next morning, I told myself I’d keep my distance. No more late-night conversations. No more coffee on her desk. I couldn’t afford to lose focus—not when the Sutton merger was on the line.

But then I saw her.

She was already at her desk, her hair swept into a loose bun, a cup of coffee in hand. She looked up when I passed, and for a moment, our eyes met.

Something unspoken passed between us—an acknowledgment of the previous night, of the shift in whatever this thing was between us.

“Good morning, Mr. Maxwell,” she said, her tone polite but softer than usual.

“Miss Harper,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral, though my chest tightened inexplicably.

Harper’s POV

I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.

He’d shown me a side of himself I didn’t think existed—a man beneath the polished surface, carrying a weight I couldn’t begin to understand. And now, sitting at my desk, I found myself watching him more than I should have, wondering if I’d imagined it all.

When he walked past me that morning, his usual commanding presence seemed slightly… off. His gaze lingered on me for a fraction too long, and I could’ve sworn there was something softer in his expression.

I told myself it didn’t matter. That whatever had happened at the bar was a fluke, a momentary lapse in the carefully maintained distance between us.

But as the day wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed.

By midday, Nicholas called me into his office for an update on the merger timeline. I expected him to be back to his usual self—cold, demanding, impossible. But there was something different in the way he spoke to me, a slight edge of hesitation I couldn’t place.

As I presented my work, I could feel his eyes on me—not critical, not impatient, but… searching.

“You’ve exceeded my expectations this time, Miss Harper,” he said when I finished.

I blinked, startled. “Did you just… compliment me?”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

But there was no bite in his words, no sharpness. For the first time, I felt like we were on equal footing.

And it terrified me.