The moment I opened the door, the tension hit me like a physical wall. The office was dark, shadows stretching across the floor like warnings. I could feel Adrian before I saw him, every muscle in his body taut, every instinct alert. The silence between us wasn’t comfortable; it was a battle waiting to erupt.
“You’re late,” he said, voice low, controlled, but sharp enough to cut through the thick air.
“I had complications,” I replied, heart pounding, though I forced my voice to stay steady. My fingers itched to reach for the folder in my bag, the one I had promised myself I wouldn’t touch until now.
Adrian didn’t move, didn’t blink. His grey eyes were fixed on me, calculating, dangerous. I could feel him measuring my every step, weighing my intentions, predicting my next move. The heat
