Chapter 10
474 Words
Ace
Ace Monteverde did not believe in instincts.
He believed in data. Control. Observation.
But something in his chest had been unsettled since morning, and no number on any report could explain it.
He stepped out of his office under the excuse of needing another file.
The real reason stood a few feet away from him.
Bea.
She was at her desk, posture straight, expression calm — but something about her felt… distant.
Like she had moved somewhere he could not reach.
His eyes caught the faint glow of her phone screen before it went dark in her hand.
She looked up at him.
Too quickly.
That was when he felt it.
Not suspicion.
Not curiosity.
Possession.
Who was she talking to?
The thought came uninvited.
Unreasonable.
And yet it stayed.
He returned to his office, closing the door harder than necessary.
This is ridiculous.
She is an employee.
Nothing more.
But the words felt like lies.
Because if she were only an employee, the thought of another man speaking to her would not bother him.
Another man noticing her would not irritate him.
Another man making her smile—
He stopped that thought before it formed completely.
He walked to the window, city stretching below him, but for the first time, the view did not steady him.
He remembered Adrian Vale.
The calm voice. The steady eyes. The way he spoke to Bea like she was someone worth speaking to.
Something dark tightened in his chest.
He did not like that.
He did not like men who looked comfortable in his territory.
And he especially did not like that she looked comfortable in their presence.
He pressed the intercom button.
“Miss Bea. Inside.”
She entered moments later, professional as always.
“Yes, sir?”
Her voice was the same.
But he watched more carefully now.
Searching.
“Did you finish the procurement review?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send it.”
She nodded, turning to leave.
“Wait.”
She paused.
His gaze moved over her face, trying to read what she was thinking.
“Are you satisfied here?” he asked suddenly.
The question surprised both of them.
She blinked. “I do my job.”
“That was not the question.”
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides.
“I don’t expect satisfaction from work,” she said.
The answer unsettled him.
Because he realized something he did not want to admit.
He did.
Not from the job.
From her.
“Good,” he said coldly. “You shouldn’t.”
She left.
And Ace stood there, jaw tight.
Because for the first time, control did not feel like enough.
Something else was forming.
Something he had always kept locked away.
And the thought of losing something he had never claimed…
Was starting to feel like a threat.
- Writer
