Chapter 5
1446 Words
Julian's Pov.
The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds of my penthouse office, striping the desk in harsh lines. I had been staring at the same report for nearly fifteen minutes, reading nothing. My mind wasn’t here. It hadn’t been for days.
Lena Hart.
That name had become both an ache and an anchor.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The faint pulse behind my eyes wouldn’t stop. I reached for my phone, scrolling to Marcus’s number,the only friend I actually had time for.
He picked up after the second ring.
“Julian. You’re supposed to be on your way here.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Yeah. About that.”
My voice came out lower than I intended. “Something came up. I won’t make it today.”
There was a pause, then a dry laugh. “Let me guess. Your secretary?”
I didn’t answer immediately. He knew me too well. “I’ll come by tomorrow instead,” I said.
“You’re playing with fire, you know that?”
Ethan’s tone softened. “Whatever it is you’re doing with her, or want to do, it’s going to cost you.”
I swallowed the irritation that rose in my throat. “I appreciate the warning. But I handle my own fires.”
Before he could say more, I ended the call.
The room fell silent again, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. My chest felt tight. My reflection in the window looked composed, crisp suit, still jaw, everything in control. Lies. I felt like I was slowly unraveling from the inside out.
Without thinking, I dialed another number. Hers.
“Mr. Cross?” Her voice came through soft, polite, unassuming.
I tried to sound casual.
“Lena. I need you to come into the office. There are a few things we need to go over before the board meeting.”
“Oh of course. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Good.”
I hung up, setting the phone down before I could replay the sound of her voice.
By the time she arrived, the late morning light had turned warm and golden, spilling across the polished floors. She knocked once before peeking in, wearing that fitted cream blouse that made my pulse betray me.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
I gestured to the chair across from me. “Come in.”
She sat down, notebook in hand, posture straight but her fingers fidgeting slightly with her pen. I noticed everything about her. Too much.
“We need to finalize the projections for the expansion plan,” I said, trying to sound indifferent.
“I want the revised version of the quarterly report on my desk tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” She looked down, scribbling notes quickly.
“Should I also prepare the client list for tomorrow’s meeting?”
I nodded, but my eyes stayed on her face longer than they should have. There was something about the curve of her lashes, the calm focus she wore like armor.
She sensed my gaze, glancing up for a heartbeat.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” I leaned forward slightly.
“Everything’s fine.”
Except it wasn’t. It never was when she was this close.
“You’ve been working hard lately,” I said after a moment, my tone softening without permission.
“I notice things like that.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Thank you, sir. I just… want to do a good job.”
“You do.” My voice dropped lower. “Too good, sometimes.”
Her pen froze mid-note. The air between us changed, denser somehow. I caught the faint scent of her perfume, something light and floral that didn’t belong in an office but clung to her skin all the same.
Before I could stop myself, I added,
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ when it’s just us.”
Her eyes flickered with surprise. “What should I call you then?”
“I told you before,Julian.”
The word sounded strange coming out of my mouth, intimate in a way that unsettled me.
She hesitated, then repeated softly,
“Julian.”
The sound of my name in her voice did something to me, something dangerous. I tried to breathe, but the air caught halfway.
It started as a faint tremor in my hand. I pressed my palm to the desk to steady it, forcing my features to stay neutral. Not now. Not here.
But the tremor grew. My heartbeat spiked. The room suddenly felt smaller, the walls inching closer. My breathing quickened, shallow and uneven.
“Mr. Cross?” Her voice sharpened with concern. “Are you alright?”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. The edges of my vision blurred. My body refused to listen. I could feel my muscles locking, the pulse in my throat hammering wildly.
“Julian!”
The next thing I knew, I wasn’t in my chair anymore. The cold floor pressed against my back, my body trembling uncontrollably. I couldn’t tell if I was breathing. I could barely hear her voice over the rush in my ears.
“Julian, talk to me! Please!”
I wanted to tell her I was fine, that it was nothing,but I couldn’t form the words. Panic surged like electricity through my veins. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
Then,softness. Her hands, warm against my face. Her voice, trembling but steadying itself for me.
“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Just breathe with me.”
I felt her shift closer. The faint rustle of her skirt, the scent of her shampoo,everything felt painfully real and distant at once. Then I realized she was lying on the floor beside me.
Her arm slid around me, tentative at first, then firmer when she felt me shaking. Her heart was beating fast against my chest, and somehow that sound pulled me back.
“Stay with me, Julian,” she whispered.
“Please.”
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, the powerful CEO of Cross Enterprises lying helpless on the office floor while his secretary held him like a broken thing. But I couldn’t. My throat burned, my chest still tight.
Minutes passed, maybe more. Slowly, my breathing steadied. The tremors dulled to faint twitches. When I finally opened my eyes, her face hovered inches above mine, eyes wide and wet.
“Lena.” My voice was hoarse.
“You…shouldn’t… worry.”
Her brow furrowed. “Don’t tell me not to worry. You scared me half to death.”
I managed a faint smile. “I’m fine now.”
“No, you’re not.” She sat up slightly, still holding onto my sleeve. “You passed out, Julian. That’s not fine.”
Her use of my name again hit me somewhere deep, raw.
“I’ve had… episodes,” I admitted quietly, the words heavier than they should’ve been. “They come and go. I usually manage it.”
“Manage it?” Her voice broke a little. “You were shaking and couldn’t breathe. That’s not something you just manage.”
I sighed, looking away. Vulnerability didn’t suit me. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
“I’m glad I did,” she said softly. “Now I know you’re human after all.”
Something in my chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t panic. It was her.
For a long moment, we just sat there on the floor. Her hand stayed near mine, close enough that if I moved even slightly, our fingers would touch. I wanted to. I didn’t.
Finally, I said, “You should go home, Lena.”
“I’m not leaving you like this.”
“You’re stubborn,” I murmured.
“And you’re impossible,” she countered.
That made me laugh, weakly, but genuinely. I hadn’t laughed in weeks.
She helped me sit up slowly, her hand steadying the back of my neck. Our faces were close again, too close. I could feel the warmth of her breath.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For not… walking away.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak. She just nodded, eyes soft and searching.
When she finally stood, she hesitated at the door.
“I’ll stay nearby, just in case.”
I watched her leave, the echo of her footsteps fading down the hall. For the first time in years, the silence that followed didn’t feel like control, it felt like fear.
Fear of how much she’d just seen.
Fear of how much I wanted her to stay.
- Writer
