Chapter 5
378 Words
The Line She Should Not Cross
Bea began arriving earlier than necessary.
The quiet before office hours used to calm her. Now it only gave her more time to think.
And thinking was dangerous.
Because every memory lately had his voice in it.
“Miss Bea.”
She hated how her heart reacted before her mind could stop it.
That morning, the intercom clicked.
But he did not ask for coffee.
He said her name.
Just her name.
She stood and entered his office.
Ace was by the window, city skyline stretched behind him, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He looked like a man who belonged to power the way others belonged to air.
“Close the door,” he said.
The soft click echoed in her chest.
“Do you plan to stay here long?” he asked without turning.
“I go where work is needed,” she replied.
“That is not what I asked.”
Silence filled the space.
He turned slowly, eyes studying her like she was something unfamiliar.
“You don’t look like someone who belongs outside doors,” he said. “You look like you used to sit at the table.”
Her breath faltered.
“My situation changed,” she said carefully.
His gaze sharpened. “You lost everything.”
Not a question.
She nodded once. “Yes.”
He stepped closer.
Slower than before. Not trapping. Not cornering.
“Does it make you angry?” he asked.
The question surprised her.
“Yes,” she admitted softly.
“Good,” he murmured. “Anger is useful.”
His hand lifted.
Not to grab.
Not to control.
Just to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face.
Gentle.
Careful.
The softest thing he had ever done.
Her breath trembled.
This was the line.
Cruelty was easier to survive than kindness.
Kindness created hope.
And hope destroyed people like her.
She stepped back first.
“I should return to work, sir.”
His expression closed instantly, walls rising back into place.
“Yes,” he said coldly. “You should.”
She walked out.
But something had shifted.
Because for one dangerous second…
She had wanted him to touch her again.
And that was the beginning of the fall.
- Writer
