AFTER HOURS
1407 Words
Rain fell relentlessly over Manhattan by the time Vivian finally left the office.
The city shimmered beneath blurred streetlights and streaks of headlights reflecting against wet pavement, alive in the way New York only seemed to become after dark — restless, loud, unforgiving.
Vivian pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped out of Blackwood & Vale, exhaustion settling deep into her shoulders.
It was nearly ten.
Again.
She should’ve expected it.
Working for Damien Blackwood meant normal hours stopped existing a long time ago.
Her phone buzzed in her bag as she reached the sidewalk.
Chloe.
Vivian answered immediately.
“Please tell me you’re no longer at the office,” Chloe said dramatically.
“I just left.”
“That man is going to work you into an early grave.”
Vivian smiled faintly while stepping beneath the awning outside the building.
“I survived.”
“Barely. Anyway, a few of us are at the Verity Lounge. Come have one drink before you turn into a corporate robot permanently.”
“I’m tired.”
“That’s exactly why you need alcohol.”
Vivian hesitated.
Truthfully, she wanted silence more than company tonight.
But another night alone in her apartment with legal documents didn’t sound much better.
“One drink,” she agreed.
Chloe gasped victoriously.
“Miracles exist.”
The call ended as Vivian flagged down a cab.
Twenty minutes later, warmth and low music wrapped around her the second she entered Verity Lounge.
The rooftop bar overlooked the city skyline through massive glass panels, dim golden lighting reflecting against polished black marble and velvet seating. Lawyers, executives, and wealthy strangers filled the room with expensive laughter and carefully hidden exhaustion.
Vivian spotted Chloe immediately near the back lounge section.
“You came!” Chloe said dramatically as Vivian approached.
“Clearly.”
“You look offensive in that dress, by the way.”
Vivian glanced down at herself.
“It’s literally a black work dress.”
“Yes, but somehow you wear exhaustion like luxury.”
Vivian laughed softly despite herself and slid into the empty seat beside her.
For the first time all day, her body relaxed slightly.
No court filings.
No conference calls.
No Damien Blackwood staring at her like he could read thoughts she hadn’t even processed herself yet.
Just quiet.
Or at least it was quiet for exactly forty-three seconds.
Because Chloe suddenly froze mid-sip.
“Oh no.”
Vivian frowned. “What?”
Chloe looked toward the entrance.
Vivian followed her gaze.
And immediately understood the problem.
Roman Ellis had just walked in.
He looked unfairly composed for a man who technically spent the entire day at war with her law firm. Dark coat. Tailored suit. Calm confidence. The kind of presence that naturally drew attention without asking for it.
Several people in the lounge recognized him instantly.
Roman acknowledged them casually before his eyes swept across the room.
Then stopped on Vivian.
Directly.
Like he’d been expecting her.
“That,” Chloe whispered beside her, “is not the look of a man seeing someone accidentally.”
Vivian ignored the sudden warmth climbing into her face.
“He’s probably meeting someone.”
“Mm-hm.”
Unfortunately, Roman immediately started walking toward them.
Wonderful.
Vivian straightened slightly as he approached the table with infuriating ease.
“Ms. Cole.”
“Mr. Ellis.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“You always say my full name like we’re negotiating a hostage exchange.”
“You’re opposing counsel.”
“Not currently.”
“Temporarily opposing counsel, then.”
Chloe looked between them like she was watching live entertainment.
Roman’s attention shifted briefly toward her.
“Roman Ellis.”
“Chloe Bennett,” she replied quickly. “Huge fan of your public interviews.”
Vivian blinked slowly.
“Chloe.”
“What? He’s famous in legal circles.”
Roman laughed softly before looking back toward Vivian.
“May I?”
He gestured toward the empty seat across from her.
Vivian should say no.
Professionally, she absolutely should.
But refusing would create a scene.
And somehow Roman looked fully aware of that.
“Briefly,” she said carefully.
Roman sat.
Dangerous decision.
The conversation started harmlessly enough.
Work.
Court schedules.
Legal media gossip.
But Roman had a way of speaking that made ordinary conversation feel strangely personal.
Like every sentence carried hidden meaning beneath it.
And worse?
He listened carefully.
Most powerful men listened only long enough to speak again.
Roman actually paid attention.
“So,” he said eventually, swirling the red liquid in his glass lightly, “how long have you worked for Blackwood?”
Vivian noticed it immediately.
Not Damien.
Blackwood.
Distance.
“Three years.”
“And you survived?”
“Barely.”
That earned another soft laugh from him.
“I almost feel sorry for you.”
“You say that as if you aren’t currently trying to destroy our firm.”
“I’m trying to win a case.”
“There’s a difference?”
“There’s always a difference.”
Something about the way he said it made her pause.
Roman leaned back slightly, studying her with quiet curiosity.
“You’re interesting, Vivian.”
Her guard instantly rose.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It probably is.”
Before she could respond, Chloe suddenly muttered under her breath:
“Oh God.”
Vivian turned.
And her stomach dropped slightly.
Damien Blackwood stood near the entrance.
Rain still darkened parts of his coat shoulders, his expression unreadable as his eyes moved slowly across the lounge before landing directly on their table.
On Roman.
Then Vivian.
Then Roman again.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Even from across the room, Damien carried intensity like a storm cloud.
Chloe whispered, “Why do I feel like someone’s about to die?”
Vivian ignored her completely.
Because Damien was walking toward them.
Every step is calm.
Controlled.
Which somehow felt worse.
Roman noticed too.
But unlike everyone else in existence, he didn’t appear remotely intimidated.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“Blackwood,” Roman greeted smoothly once Damien reached the table.
“Ellis.”
Cold.
Sharp.
Professional enough on the surface.
But underneath?
Not even close.
Vivian stood instinctively.
“Mr. Blackwood, I didn’t realize—”
“You’re off the clock,” Damien interrupted.
His eyes met hers briefly.
And something about his tone made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
Not anger.
Something darker.
Possession.
Roman noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“You should join us,” Roman offered casually.
Damien’s gaze shifted toward him slowly.
“I’d rather be cross-examined.”
Chloe nearly inhaled her drink.
Vivian closed her eyes briefly.
This was becoming catastrophic.
Roman leaned back comfortably.
“That can be arranged if you keep avoiding my document requests.”
Damien ignored him completely.
Instead, his attention returned to Vivian.
“You left the Harrington revisions unfinished.”
Vivian blinked.
“No, I emailed them before leaving.”
“I saw version one.”
Her brows pulled together.
“There were three versions.”
A pause.
Then Damien said flatly:
“Only two attached.”
Vivian’s stomach sank.
No.
No, no, no.
Those revisions were confidential.
And if the final file hadn’t attached—
“I need my laptop,” she said immediately.
Damien’s expression remained unreadable.
“In the office.”
Roman watched the entire exchange carefully, eyes narrowing slightly like he sensed something shifting beneath the surface.
Vivian grabbed her coat quickly.
“I have to go.”
Chloe looked alarmed. “Now?”
“Yes.”
Damien stepped aside silently for her to pass.
But as Vivian moved beside him, his voice lowered just enough for only her to hear.
“Come with me.”
Not:
Take a cab.
Not:
Meet me there.
Come with me.
The words shouldn’t affect her the way they did.
But they did.
And somehow, standing between Damien Blackwood’s controlled intensity and Roman Ellis’s watchful gaze, Vivian suddenly had the terrifying feeling that her life was beginning to move toward something irreversible.
Something dangerous.
Behind her, Roman’s calm voice cut through the tension softly.
“Goodnight, Vivian.”
She turned instinctively.
Roman held her gaze for half a second longer than necessary.
Then added quietly:
“Try not to let him work you to death.”
Damien’s jaw tightened.
And for the first time since meeting Roman Ellis, Vivian realized something unsettling.
This wasn’t just a professional rivalry anymore.
It was becoming personal.
- Writer
