The Billionaire Asset

6:Ava

The rain began as a soft patter against the reinforced glass of the office windows, but by 9:00 PM, it had turned into a torrential downpour, blurring the lights of New York into a smudged, neon mess. I was alone in the archives room—a windowless, climate-controlled vault in the center of the building where the physical contracts from the eighties were kept.

I was standing on a rolling library ladder, reaching for a dusty box on the top shelf, when the lights flickered and then died.

The darkness was absolute. I gasped, my fingers slipping from the edge of the shelf. The ladder wobbled beneath me. For a terrifying second, I felt the gravity of the fall, my stomach dropping into my throat.

"I’ve got you."

Strong, steady hands caught me by the waist before my feet even left the rungs. I was hauled backward and downward in one fluid motion, my back hitting a solid, warm chest.

Lucas.

He didn't let go once my feet hit the floor. He kept his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The friction of my skirt against his trousers, the heat of his palms soaking through the silk of my blouse—it was too much. My heart was thumping so hard against my ribs I thought it might actually break through.

"The backup generators will kick in in ten seconds," he murmured. His voice was right at my ear, his hot breath ghosting over my skin.

In the pitch black, my other senses became hyper-active. I could smell the rain on his coat, the expensive leather of his watch strap, and the raw, heavy scent of a man who had been working as hard as I had. I could feel the hard planes of his stomach pressing into my back, and the way his thighs braced against mine to keep us steady.

The red emergency lights hummed to life, casting the small room in a deep, crimson glow. It was shadows and fire.

Lucas slowly turned me around in his arms. He didn't release me; he just shifted his grip so his hands moved to my hips. I looked up at him, my breath coming in short, shallow hitches. In this red light, he looked like a devil. His eyes were dark, hooded, and focused entirely on my mouth.

"You're shaking," he whispered.

"I... I wasn't expecting the lights to go out," I managed to say. My hands were flat against his chest, feeling the heavy, powerful rhythm of his heart. It was racing as fast as mine.

"I wasn't expecting a lot of things," he replied.

He stepped closer, crowding me back against the cold metal of the shelves. The contrast was agonizing—the freezing steel at my back and the furnace-like heat of his body in front of me. He leaned down, his face inches from mine.

I should have moved. I should have made a joke, or asked about the merger, or pushed him away. But I was paralyzed by the sheer magnetism of him. My body was acting on its own, my back arching slightly, my head tilting back to give him better access.

"Ava," he groaned, the sound vibrating through my chest.

His hand moved from my hip, his fingers sliding up my side, tracing the curve of my ribs before cupping the side of my neck. His thumb stroked my jawline, a slow, deliberate movement that made my eyes flutter shut. I felt a liquid heat pool between my legs, a heavy, demanding ache that I had never felt before.

He leaned in closer. I could feel the warmth of his lips just a fraction of an inch from mine. I could taste the air he exhaled. My heart was a drum, my skin was on fire, and I was leaning in, my lips parting in silent invitation.

The tension was a physical weight, a wire pulled so tight it was about to snap. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to ruin me right here against the dusty boxes of a forgotten decade.

Clang.

The heavy security door at the end of the hall swung open, the sound echoing through the archives like a gunshot.

"Mr. Reed? Are you in here? The facility manager needs a word about the power surge."

It was his head of security.

The spell shattered. Lucas stiffened, his eyes snapping toward the door. He didn't move immediately, his forehead resting against mine for one agonizing second, a jagged breath escaping him. The frustration coming off him was palpable, a dark energy that made the air feel thick.

He pulled back, his hands dropping to his sides. I felt suddenly, devastatingly cold. I turned away, pretending to fix my hair, my fingers trembling so badly I could barely tuck the strands into place.

"I'm here, Miller," Lucas called out, his voice miraculously steady, though it was an octave deeper than usual. "We're finished here."

He looked back at me one last time before he walked toward the door. The look in his eyes wasn't professional. It wasn't even friendly. It was a promise. A promise that next time, there wouldn't be a door, a security guard, or a light switch to save me.

I stood in the red-lit silence of the archives, my lips still tingling and my body still humming with a desperate, unfinished hunger. I had come to Reed Industries to fix a merger. Instead, I was falling into a fire I had no hope of extinguishing.