Episode 5
1494 Words
Part 1
Protection No One Asked For
Rain had been falling since morning.
Slow. Persistent.
Drumming against the tall glass walls of King Corporation
like a warning that today would not be ordinary.
Amika sat in the private lounge.
Documents lined neatly in front of her.
But her focus was somewhere else entirely.
The door opened.
Nicholas walked in.
Calm expression.
The look of a man who believed everything was under control.
“I’ve handled it,” he said.
Steady. Final.
Her heart skipped—just slightly.
“Handled… what?” she asked.
“The press,” he replied.
“The competing company.
And the people who tried to get close to you.”
Tried to get close to you.
He said it like a threat that had already been eliminated.
Amika went still.
She knew he wasn’t lying.
And she knew he wasn’t doing this out of cruelty.
But the way he spoke—
deciding everything without asking,
leaving her no space to choose—
something heavy settled in her chest.
He called it protection.
To her,
it felt like decisions made in her place.
On her behalf.
Without permission.
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” she said at last.
Polite.
But firm.
Nicholas looked at her, brows tightening slightly.
“You’re in a position people watch closely,” he answered.
“I won’t let anyone use you as a weakness.”
Won’t let.
Her fingers curled into her palm.
“And what about me?” she asked.
Meeting his gaze head-on.
“Do I get a choice in what kind of protection I receive?”
Silence spread.
Brief.
But heavy.
He didn’t answer right away.
As if the question itself was unfamiliar.
“I do what’s necessary,” he said finally.
Amika looked away.
Not because she lost—
but because she was beginning to understand something.
His logic
didn’t leave room for her feelings at all.
She didn’t doubt his strength.
She was starting to doubt
how much space that strength left
for her to exist as herself.
“If you’re going to handle everything for me,” she said slowly, clearly,
“then at the very least, you should ask me first.”
Nicholas studied her longer than usual.
There was no anger in his eyes.
Only conflict—
the kind he had never learned how to deal with.
“I’ve never asked anyone,” he said.
It sounded less like a statement.
More like a confession.
Amika nodded slightly.
“I know,” she replied.
“But I’m not just anyone.”
The words weren’t loud.
They weren’t sharp.
But they landed.
Nicholas didn’t argue.
Didn’t step closer.
He simply stood there—
like a man realizing for the first time
that protection
wasn’t always the answer.
Amika gathered her documents.
Stood up.
She didn’t thank him.
And she didn’t apologize.
Because today wasn’t about accepting
or rejecting anything.
It was the day she chose
to ask questions.
And that—
was the one thing she would never allow anyone
to decide for her.
Part 2
Feelings He Was Never Meant to Have
The conference room on the twenty-seventh floor
was wrapped in glass.
The city stretched beneath it.
Power. Distance. Control.
Amika sat at the table, listening to the report.
Focused. Calm.
Like someone who had started to understand
the rhythm of this world.
The door opened.
Nicholas walked in.
Slower than usual.
His sharp gaze swept across the room—
then stopped.
A man stood beside her.
Too close.
“I wasn’t aware we had a guest,” Nicholas said.
His tone even.
Cold.
The man smiled quickly.
Introduced himself.
Explained the project.
Everything professional. Everything proper.
Amika looked at Nicholas.
She saw it.
The tension in his jaw.
The fist he hadn’t realized he was clenching.
He said nothing more.
But the air shifted.
When the meeting ended,
the room emptied.
Only them.
“You close with him?” Nicholas asked.
Immediately.
Too fast.
Amika turned to him.
Not startled.
But displeased.
“No,” she replied.
“We discussed work.”
“He seemed—”
Nicholas stopped.
Chose his words carefully.
“Too interested in you.”
Too interested.
The phrase made her let out a soft laugh.
Not amused.
Just tired.
“And in what capacity are you asking?” she said.
“Boss?
Contract husband?
Or just a man who doesn’t like it?”
The question landed cleanly.
Nicholas went silent.
“I don’t like people looking at you like that,” he said at last.
Direct.
Unmasked.
Amika inhaled.
Steadying herself.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like I’m a woman—
not something that belongs to you?”
That stopped him.
He had never expected this feeling to be challenged.
Never imagined it would sound so wrong
when spoken aloud.
“That’s not what I mean,” he said.
But his voice had lost its certainty.
“But that’s what you feel,” Amika replied.
No anger.
No retreat.
Silence stretched between them.
Long.
Cold.
Nicholas took a step toward her—
then stopped himself.
As if he’d just realized
he was crossing a line.
“I just—”
He began.
Then broke off.
Because he didn’t know how to explain it
without sounding like possession.
Amika moved first.
Stepping back.
Creating space.
The distance wasn’t fear.
It was a boundary.
She wasn’t angry.
But she would not allow
jealousy
to be dressed up as concern.
“If we’re going to keep working together,” she said calmly,
“I need space.
Not surveillance.”
Nicholas nodded.
Slowly.
Like someone accepting a truth
he didn’t want to face.
“I’ll try,” he said.
And this time,
it wasn’t an order.
It was an admission.
Amika didn’t answer.
She picked up her file
and walked out of the room.
Leaving him alone
with the silence—
and with a new feeling he wasn’t trained to handle.
A feeling that didn’t come from power,
but from the realization
that he could no longer control everything.
And for the first time,
Nicholas King wasn’t sure
what it was he was losing control of.
Part 3
The Line He Was Never Meant to Cross
The rain came down harder than any other night.
It slammed against the mansion’s windows.
Loud enough to drown the silence—
not strong enough to break the tension.
Amika walked into the living room.
Removed her coat.
Placed her bag down carefully.
Nicholas stood by the window.
Back straight.
Hands in his pockets.
Too still.
“I didn’t like what happened today,” he said.
He didn’t turn around.
Amika stopped.
She knew instantly—
this wasn’t a conversation.
It was a warning.
“What exactly?” she asked.
Her voice calm.
Unarmed.
“You met him after hours,” Nicholas replied.
“Without informing me.”
Informing me.
The words landed in the center of the room.
Heavy.
Out of place.
Amika inhaled.
Slow.
Controlled.
“I discussed a project,” she said.
“And I didn’t violate any part of our contract.”
Nicholas turned.
His gaze sharp.
His restraint tight.
“I don’t want misunderstandings,” he said.
“And if something like this happens again—”
He stopped.
As if choosing his words.
Though the meaning was already clear.
Amika met his eyes.
Still.
Unmoving.
She recognized it immediately.
This wasn’t a contractual line.
This was a line of power.
“And what will you do?” she asked.
Her voice quiet.
Precise.
The question silenced him.
Because there was no answer
that didn’t sound like control.
“I just want clarity,” he said at last.
Low.
Tense.
Trying to make it reasonable.
Amika shook her head gently.
“Clarity like this,” she said,
“isn’t safety for me.”
She stepped back.
Not from fear.
From choice.
If she stayed where she was,
she would have to accept terms
she never helped set.
“We have a contract,” Amika said clearly.
“Not ownership over each other’s private lives.”
Nicholas frowned.
The confidence he once wore so easily
began to crack.
“You’re overinterpreting,” he replied.
But his voice—
wasn’t steady anymore.
Amika looked at him.
Her gaze calm.
Not angry.
Not defiant.
“No,” she said.
“I’m protecting myself.”
Protecting.
The word held him still.
Because he realized—
that role
didn’t belong to him alone.
Amika picked up her bag.
Turned away.
Walked out of the room.
She didn’t wait for permission.
She didn’t wait for answers.
The door closed behind her.
Soft.
Final.
Nicholas stood alone.
The rain kept falling.
The glass kept trembling.
And for the first time,
he understood—
The line he almost crossed
wasn’t about power.
It was the kind of line that,
once crossed,
would make him lose her—
without ever being allowed
to call it protection again.
- Writer
