THE ROOM WHERE IT STARTED.
668 Words
Leona had always known how to walk through fire.
But walking beside Elias was something else entirely.
He didn’t touch her in the office. Not really.
But his eyes did.
Every time she passed him in the hallway. Every time they sat in the same boardroom.
His gaze trailed her like gravity.
It was like he had memorized the shape of her silence—and had decided to set it on fire.
That afternoon, the annual Moretti Strategic Partners Forum was held in the building’s private conference wing.
Investors. Journalists. Board members.
And Elias Moretti.
He stood at the podium, flawless in a tailored navy suit, his voice cutting through the room like a blade wrapped in silk.
“And as we move forward, Moretti Shipping will not just carry cargo,” he said, “but responsibility. Reputation. And yes, innovation.”
The room applauded. Cameras clicked.
Leona, seated near the rear of the room, barely blinked. She’d heard her share of powerful speeches.
But when his eyes found hers across the room, her pulse stuttered.
He wasn’t looking for applause.
He was looking for her.
During the networking hour, the whispers returned like shadows:
> “That’s her. The secretary.”
“Fifteen years older?”
“There’s no way she just works here.”
“You don’t get rehired at that level unless…”
She could feel their words like needles threading her skin.
But she didn’t flinch. She never did.
Until one voice got too close.
“He always had a thing for her, you know,” someone muttered just behind her. “Even when he was a teenager. They say he used to follow her around like a puppy.”
Leona froze.
That voice—too familiar.
Vivian Danvers.
Board member. Elegant. Ruthless. Elias’s father’s long-time ally—and rumored lover.
Leona turned slowly, her face blank. “You should be careful with old stories, Vivian. They tend to rot if they’re left in the open too long.”
Vivian gave a tight smile. “And you should be careful with new power. It doesn’t protect you the way his father’s name once did.”
Before Leona could respond, a voice cut through the tension like thunder.
“I’d watch your tone, Vivian.”
Elias.
He stood beside them now, calm but dangerous, his hand brushing Leona’s lower back in the most casual, most claiming way.
“She speaks on behalf of the company,” Elias said smoothly. “So disrespect toward her is disrespect toward me.”
Vivian’s smile vanished.
Leona blinked, stunned.
When Vivian stormed off, Elias turned to her.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she pulled him into the nearest private hallway and shut the door behind them.
“I told you not to draw attention,” she snapped, eyes wide. “You just defended me like we’re—”
“Like we are something,” he cut in.
Leona backed up until her shoulders hit the wall.
His hands braced the wall on either side of her head.
“I won’t pretend,” he whispered. “Not anymore.”
“You don’t understand what this could cost.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I’d rather lose the board,” he said, “than lose the one person who sees me outside this suit.”
Her chest rose and fell too fast.
“Say you don’t want me, and I’ll walk away.”
She didn’t.
He leaned closer.
“Say it, Leona.”
But she couldn’t.
So he kissed her again.
Slower this time. More desperate. More dangerous.
Her hands tangled in his lapels, pulling him closer until all she could feel was him—his breath, his mouth, his promise.
When they broke apart, she whispered, “You’re going to ruin me.”
He touched her cheek gently. “No. I’m going to love you. Even if it ruins me.”
And for the first time, Leona didn’t run.
- Writer
