Chapter8
1261 Words
The next morning, Maya woke to the faint hum of the city far below, her body curled against the edge of the bed. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was, the sheets were too crisp, the air too quiet, the ceiling too high.
Then it hit her.
Lucas’s penthouse.
The storm.
And the kiss.
Her stomach tightened as if someone had dropped a stone into it. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Why did I lean in? Why didn’t I stop it sooner?
She pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead. “Stupid, stupid,” she whispered under her breath. It wasn’t just the kiss—it was how it made her feel. The way her heart had stumbled, how his touch had burned.
She sat up quickly, brushing her damp curls out of her face. No. She couldn’t let this happen. Lucas was her boss. And if people found out? Her career would be over before it even began.
Her eyes darted to the chair where her clothes from last night had dried. She slipped into them quietly, folding his white shirt neatly and placing it on the bed. Grabbing her bag she tiptoed to the door praying she could slip out unnoticed.
But as soon as she reached the living room the scent of coffee and something warm stopped her.
Lucas stood by the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled, moving with a calm precision as he plated scrambled eggs and toast. He looked up the second she appeared, his sharp gaze softening.
“You’re awake.”
Maya froze, guilty, like she’d been caught sneaking out of somewhere she didn’t belong. “I was just… I didn’t want to disturb you.”
His brow lifted slightly. “So you were going to disappear without breakfast?”
She shifted on her feet. “I didn’t want to trouble you—”
“You’re not trouble,” he interrupted smoothly, sliding a plate onto the table. “Sit. Eat before you leave.”
Her instinct screamed to refuse, but her legs carried her forward anyway. She sat across from him, the silence between them thick and fragile. She picked at her toast, avoiding his eyes.
The scrape of his fork against the plate was the only sound until Lucas finally spoke.
“About last night.”
Her heart jumped. She forced herself to keep chewing.
He leaned back in his chair, jaw tight, voice lower than usual. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was inappropriate, and I’m… I'm sorry.”
Maya’s grip on her fork tightened. The apology was unexpected. And part of her wanted to say she didn’t regret it, but the wiser part pushed those words down.
She lifted her eyes just enough to meet his, then quickly looked back at her plate. “It’s fine. Let’s… just forget it happened.”
Lucas studied her, as if trying to read what she wasn’t saying. But she gave him nothing more.
To escape the weight of his gaze, Maya pulled out her phone. The screen lit up with thirty-four missed messages from Leah.
Her stomach sank. She scrolled—
Where are you?
Maya, it’s 1 a.m., are you okay?
If you don’t answer me, I’m calling the police.
Damn it, Maya, answer me right now.
Maya sighed, pressing her fingers against her temple. “Leah’s probably about to murder me. She thinks I vanished into thin air.”
Lucas raised a brow. “Tell her you were safe. That’s all that matters.”
Maya typed quickly: I’ll explain when I get back. Promise. I’m fine.
Leah’s reply came instantly: Fine? Girl, you better have a good story.
Maya bit back a groan.
She stood after finishing the bare minimum of her meal. “Thank you for… breakfast.”
Lucas gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.
They left together, silence following them all the way down the elevator.
By the time they pulled up in front of Stravon Empire, Maya’s nerves were on the edge. She made sure to thank Lucas again for the ride before stepping out quickly, as though distance could erase the memory of the night before.
Inside the building, the usual buzz of the morning hit her….phones ringing, keyboards clattering, heels clicking across marble. Normally, the noise gave her cover. Today, every sound seemed magnified, every glance a little sharper.
“Maya!” one of the junior analysts waved as she passed. “Early start?”
She forced a smile. “Something like that.”
She hurried to her desk, dropping her bag and opening her laptop before anyone else could pull her into conversation. If she buried herself in work, maybe she wouldn’t have to think. About the kiss. About Lucas’s apology. About the storm that seemed to follow her wherever she went.
But avoiding Lucas in his own company was easier said than done. He arrived a few minutes later, commanding the room just by walking through it. Conversations dipped. Heads turned. Maya didn’t need to look up to feel his presence brush over her.
“Morning,” he said to the room at large, voice steady. His eyes flicked briefly toward Maya, then away just as quickly. Professional. Controlled.
Still, the heat climbed up her neck. She bent lower over her laptop.
“Rough night?” a voice murmured beside her.
She glanced up to find Jaden leaning on her desk, sharp-eyed as always. He was dressed impeccably, as if the storm had never happened.
“What do you mean?” she asked too quickly.
Jaden’s smirk tilted. “Relax. I only meant the storm. Roads were a mess.”
“Oh. Right.” She forced a small laugh, but his gaze lingered on her a second too long, like he could see straight through her.
“Well, don’t burn yourself out,” he said finally, pushing off her desk. “You look… tired.”
When he walked away, she exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The rest of the morning dragged on. She typed, filed, double-checked numbers anything to stay occupied. But distraction wasn’t enough to shake the feeling of eyes on her. Not Lucas’s this time. Someone else’s.
At first she thought she imagined it a whisper behind her in the hall, a shadow pausing too long at the copy machine. But then, while dropping a folder off at Records, she found a slip of paper tucked under the files with her name scrawled across it.
Her pulse spiked.
She unfolded it quickly, eyes darting to make sure no one was watching. The handwriting was jagged, rushed:
“Stay away from him. This is your last warning.”
Her hands trembled as she crumpled the note, shoving it deep into her pocket. She looked around the empty corridor—empty, but not safe.
Back at her desk, she tried to steady her breathing, fingers hovering above the keyboard. Lucas’s voice from breakfast echoed in her head: “If someone’s bothering you, you need to tell me.”
But what could she say? That someone hated her enough to stalk her? That Sophia, the ex everyone whispered about might actually be pulling strings behind the scenes? She could almost hear Leah’s voice already: You’ve gotten yourself into something dangerous, Maya.
The elevator doors slid open across the lobby.
And there she was.
Sophia.
Elegant. Unhurried. Smiling like she owned the place.
Maya’s stomach turned to stone.
Sophia’s gaze swept the floor, sharp as glass—then paused. Right on her.
The smile widened.
- Writer
