Chapter 4- Power Games
585 Words
Aria told herself she would ignore him.
For exactly three hours.
That was how long it took for her assistant to rush into her office, eyes wide, tablet clutched to her chest like a shield.
“Aria… Vale Global just acquired the lease on this building.”
Aria froze.
“What?”
“And,” the assistant continued nervously, “they’ve requested a meeting. Immediately.”
The air felt thinner. Colder.
She didn’t need to ask who was behind it.
Sebastian Vale didn’t chase.
He rearranged the board until escape was impossible.
Minutes later, he walked into her office like he belonged there—which, infuriatingly, he now did. No suit jacket this time. Just a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled, the top button undone. Casual dominance. Intentional.
“You planned this,” Aria said, standing.
“Yes.”
Not even a hint of denial.
“You bought the building to get to me?”
“I bought the building because it was undervalued,” he replied smoothly. “You were a variable I found… worth keeping close.”
Her anger flared hot and sharp.
“You think this is impressive?”
“I think you’re still here.”
He dismissed her assistant with a glance. The door closed. Privacy sealed.
Sebastian stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“You could walk away right now. Break the contract. Find another investor.”
She folded her arms. “And you’d let me?”
“No,” he said honestly. “But I’d respect the attempt.”
The truth in his words unsettled her more than any lie could have.
“You’re playing games,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed. “The question is—why are you still playing back?”
Silence pulsed between them.
She hated that her body reacted before her mind—heat coiling low, breath shallow, awareness sharpened to every inch of him. The way his gaze dropped to her mouth. The way his jaw tightened when she noticed.
“You don’t get to control me,” she said quietly.
Sebastian stopped inches away.
“I don’t control what doesn’t want to be controlled,” he murmured. “I control what chooses to stay.”
His hand lifted—slow, deliberate—and stopped just short of touching her cheek. The restraint in the gesture was worse than contact.
“Tell me to stop,” he said.
Her lips parted.
Seconds stretched. The room held its breath.
“Stop,” she whispered.
His hand fell.
But his eyes burned.
“Good,” he said softly. “Because if you hadn’t…”
He stepped back, reclaiming his composure like armor sliding back into place.
“This is business,” he continued coolly. “You’ll keep your office. Your autonomy. Your project.”
“And the price?” she asked.
His gaze returned to her—unfiltered this time.
“You have dinner with me.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
She should say no.
She didn’t.
“One dinner,” she said. “No strings.”
Sebastian smiled slowly, the kind of smile that promised consequences.
“There are always strings, Aria,” he said. “You just haven’t felt them tighten yet.”
When he left, her office felt emptier. Charged. Changed.
Aria sank into her chair, pulse racing.
This wasn’t just desire anymore.
It was a war of will.
And she had the terrifying suspicion that Sebastian Vale intended to win.
- Writer
