Chapter 44
1204 Words
✨The Morning After.✨
Nasir Pov
Morning always arrived before permission.
Nasir stood at the glass wall, shirt half-buttoned, city stretching beneath him like a map he’d already conquered. The penthouse was quiet behind him—too quiet for what he’d allowed himself to forget.
Flora slept.
That alone was dangerous.
She lay tangled in the sheets, hair loose, face unguarded. Not performing. Not bracing. Just… there. Breathing softly, like the world had never taught her to flinch.
Nasir clenched his jaw.
This was the part he never kept.
The night had gone wrong in the worst way—gentle, unplanned, human. He’d watched her laugh into the pillow, watched her trust without bargaining for it, watched himself slow down.
A mistake. He had stopped himself.
Nasir wanted her.
Badly.
Last night had proven just how thin his control had become around her.
He had pulled her closer without thinking, instinct taking over the way it always did when something belonged to him. Her body had fit against his like it had been meant to be there, warm and soft in all the ways he had tried not to notice.
For a moment, the world had narrowed to nothing but the space between them.
Then he felt it—the shift.
Her breath caught.
Nasir lifted his gaze and watched her eyes widen when she felt him.
The awareness in them was immediate. Shocked. Unprepared for how quickly the moment had turned into something dangerous.
That was when he stopped.
God, it had nearly killed him.
Every instinct in him had screamed to keep going, to close the distance he had already crossed, to take what she was unknowingly offering just by standing there so close.
But he saw it in her face—that fragile second where she realized how intimate the moment had become.
So he stepped back.
Forced himself to put space between them before either of them did something they couldn’t take back.
Nasir Darven was not a man known for restraint.
Yet with her… he had walked away.
Now, standing under another freezing stream of water, he braced his hands against the tiled wall and let the cold run down his back.
It should have helped.
It didn’t.
He exhaled slowly, jaw tightening as her wide eyes flashed in his mind again.
Cold showers weren’t working anymore.
Because the problem wasn’t desire.
The problem was her.
And Nasir was starting to realize that wanting her might be the one thing in this world he couldn’t control.
Nasir stood by the window now.
The city stretched out beneath him, lights flickering against the darkness, but he barely saw any of it. His attention was somewhere else entirely.
On her.
His jaw tightened as the memory replayed in his mind with irritating clarity.
The way she had been standing so close to him.
The warmth of her body when he pulled her in without thinking.
The soft intake of her breath.
And then—
Her eyes widening.
He had seen the exact moment the realization hit her, when she became aware of just how close they were, how quickly the space between them had changed.
Even now, hours later, the tension still coiled inside him, tight and unrelenting.
He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, staring out into the morning glow.
Cold showers weren’t working anymore.
Because the problem wasn’t the heat of the moment.
The problem was that he could still see her face.
Still see those wide eyes looking up at him.
And the more he thought about it, the more dangerous one realization became.
He hadn’t stopped because he had to.
He stopped because it was her.
He reached for his phone.
One missed call.
Then another.
Then the message came through, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs.
Father: We need to talk. Immediately.
Nasir didn’t reply.
He knew better.
The knock came anyway.
Not at the door.
At the room.
Nasir turned just as the private elevator chimed—a sound that should not have been possible without his approval.
His security system was being overridden.
That meant only one thing.
“Stay here,” Nasir murmured, more to the room than to Flora. He pulled the door closed softly, locking it, then strode into the main living space as the elevator doors slid open.
Mr. Darven stepped out like he owned the air.
Tailored suit. Calm smile. Eyes that never wasted movement.
“You’re early,” Nasir said flatly.
Mr. Darven glanced around, taking in the glasses on the counter, the faint disorder, the scent of something domestic. His smile sharpened.
“You’re sloppy,” Mr. Darven replied. “That’s new.”
Nasir moved closer, voice low. “You bypassed my system.”
Mr. Darven shrugged. “You stopped answering. That’s worse.”
Silence thickened.
Mr. Darven’s gaze flicked—not accidentally—toward the bedroom door.
Nasir felt it like a trigger pulled.
“Careful,” Nasir warned.
Mr. Darven chuckled. “Relax. I’m not here for her.”
That was not reassuring.
“I’m here because you’ve delayed the transfer,” Mr. Darven continued. “Three offshore accounts are frozen, a meeting in Zurich was postponed, and you missed a call that explicitly stated do not miss this call.”
Nasir’s fists curled at his sides. “I handled it.”
“You didn’t,” Mr. Darven said calmly. “You disappeared.”
Another beat.
Mr. Darven stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You know what happens when you disappear, Nasir. People start wondering what you’re protecting.”
Nasir met his eyes, ice-cold. “Say what you came to say.”
Mr. Darven studied him for a long moment—then smiled like a man who’d found a crack in steel.
“There’s been an inquiry,” he said lightly. “Unofficial. Quiet. Someone’s asking questions about a girl who doesn’t exist on paper the way she should.”
The room narrowed.
Nasir didn’t move.
Mr. Darven continued, softer now. “Backgrounds like hers don’t survive scrutiny. Someone will notice the gaps. And when they do—”
“I’ll bury it,” Nasir snapped.
Mr.Darven raised a brow. “You could. Or you could do what you’ve always done.”
Nasir already knew the answer.
“End it,” Mr.Darven said. “Cleanly. Before sentiment becomes leverage.”
Behind the bedroom door, something shifted. A faint sound. A breath.
Nasir felt it immediately.
Mr Darven noticed too.
His smile returned—slow, knowing.
“You didn’t tell her who you are, did you?”
Nasir stepped forward, every inch of him lethal. “This conversation is over father.”
Mr.Darven straightened his cuffs. “No. It’s just beginning.”
He turned toward the elevator, pausing only once.
“Enjoy the morning,” Mr.Darven said. “It may be your last quiet one.”
The doors slid shut.
Silence crashed back into the penthouse.
Nasir stood there, chest tight, jaw locked.
Behind him, the bedroom door creaked open.
Flora’s voice—soft, unsure—cut through everything.
“Nasir…”
He turned to face her.
And for the first time in years, Nasir didn’t immediately know how to lie.
- Writer
