Untamed secret

The distance

📖 Untamed Secrets

Chapter 6 – The Distance That Doesn’t Stay Distant

Some distances are illusions. Some burns can’t be smothered.

⸻

Three days.

That’s how long it had been since Serena walked out of Jeremy Hale’s office with her pride intact but her heart in pieces.

Three days of silence.

No calls.

No texts.

No lingering glances in the elevator.

Just… cold professionalism.

Jeremy passed her in the halls like she was furniture. In meetings, he looked through her, not at her. At one point, she’d dropped a stack of files right outside his door, papers scattering everywhere. He had walked past, eyes on his phone, without slowing down.

The sting of it burned worse than his rejection.

And still, she hated that it hurt.

⸻

Serena sat in the conference room now, tablet balanced on her lap as she typed the minutes of the weekly executive meeting. Her face was calm, her posture professional, her fingers steady on the screen.

But inside, every nerve screamed.

Because across the table sat Jeremy.

His voice was smooth and controlled as he spoke about international expansion, his gaze fixed on the legal team. But she could feel him. The way his presence filled the room. The way the deep baritone of his voice slid under her skin no matter how much she tried to block it out.

It was maddening, pretending not to hear him. Pretending she didn’t remember that same voice whispering filth into her neck, murmuring her name like it meant something.

She refused to look at him. She had promised herself she wouldn’t.

But she felt him looking at her.

Every time her fingers brushed the edge of the table.

Every time she shifted in her chair.

Every time she exhaled just a little too hard.

His gaze — hot, burning, forbidden — followed.

And she hated that it made her want to tremble.

⸻

The meeting ended with polite nods and shuffling papers. Executives filed out, the clatter of footsteps fading down the hall.

Everyone left.

Everyone… except him.

Serena gathered her tablet and stylus quickly, trying not to let her hands shake. She slung her blazer over one arm and reached for the door.

“Serena,” Jeremy said.

His voice was low. Rougher than usual.

She froze.

Slowly, she turned.

He stood at the far end of the table, sleeves rolled to his forearms, tie loosened just enough to reveal the tense line of his throat. His expression was unreadable — but his stance betrayed him. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid.

Something was coming.

“I’m assigning you to work with Simon from now on,” he said.

Serena blinked. “What?”

“Simon will handle my schedule and correspondence. You’ll be reassigned to the international department.”

It wasn’t a request. It was exile.

Her throat tightened. “You’re removing me?”

Jeremy’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m protecting you.”

The words snapped something inside her.

Serena slammed her tablet shut with a sharp crack.

“No, Jeremy,” she said, voice shaking with fury. “You’re protecting yourself.”

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he walked slowly around the table until he was standing directly in front of her. Close enough to smell her perfume — soft vanilla layered with tension. Close enough that the heat of his body teased her skin.

“I warned you I wasn’t safe,” he murmured.

“And I proved I wasn’t weak.”

His hand twitched — a tiny movement, but she caught it. The urge to reach for her. To grab. To hold. To claim.

But he didn’t.

He clenched it into a fist instead.

Her heart pounded so hard she thought he’d hear it. “Don’t do this.”

“I already did.”

For a heartbeat, neither moved. The clock ticked faintly in the silence.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

And then Serena turned sharply, heels clicking against the marble floor as she walked out. Her chest was tight, her eyes stung — but she refused to let him see her break.

The door closed behind her.

Or almost closed.

Neither of them noticed it hadn’t fully latched. And someone else had been watching.

⸻

✧

That night, Serena found herself at a rooftop lounge, the city glittering like spilled jewels beneath her. A warm breeze lifted her hair as she sipped from a glass of red wine, trying to drown out the echo of his voice.

She wasn’t alone.

Beside her sat Eli Hartwell, one of the new international associates. Tall, charming, and unmistakably British, Eli had been shamelessly eyeing her all week in the office. Where Jeremy was storm and steel, Eli was all teasing grins and effortless charm.

And tonight, Serena let him.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Eli asked, leaning back in his chair, tie loosened, whiskey glass in hand.

“See what?” Serena replied, her lips brushing the rim of her wineglass before she took a slow sip.

“How he looks at you,” Eli said easily, like it was obvious. “Like he wants to devour you and run from you at the same time.”

Serena froze.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.

“Jeremy Hale doesn’t look at me at all,” she lied smoothly.

Eli chuckled, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I may be new to the company, but I’m not blind. The man’s a storm every time you’re in the room. I’d bet money on it.”

Serena forced a laugh, but it came out thinner than she meant. “You’d lose that bet.”

Eli leaned closer, his shoulder brushing hers. “Then let me win another one.”

Her pulse jumped.

And that’s when she felt it.

The change in the air.

The hairs on her arms lifted. A shiver ran down her spine.

She looked up—

Jeremy.

Standing at the edge of the rooftop like a storm in a tailored suit. The city lights caught his profile, sharp and dangerous. His eyes locked on her. On Eli. On the way Eli leaned just a little too close.

He said nothing.

But his gaze burned hotter than fire, sharper than knives.

Deadly.

Possessive.

And very, very clear.

Eli noticed too. His smirk widened. “Ah. Speak of the devil.”

Serena’s throat went dry.

Her body leaned instinctively toward Jeremy, like a compass finding north. But then she stopped herself.

She turned slightly toward Eli instead.

And smiled.

Let him burn.