The boardroom at Velmora Corp. was a lion's den that morning.
Twelve executives sat around the obsidian conference table like vultures in tailored suits. The walls pulsed with warded magic to block surveillance spells, and the floating chandelier overhead glimmered with silent menace.
Aurelia Voss sat at the head of the table... composed, poised, every inch the predator. Her blood-red blazer accentuated the arch of her spine as she leaned back, legs crossed, a single ring glinting on her middle finger like a warning.
Kael stood behind her chair, silent, steady, one hand resting against the backrest like a sentry. No one spoke directly to him. No one dared.
Except one.
Vincent Malreign, Chief Financial Overseer of Velmora, leaned forward with a smug grin. Early forties, all slicked-back hair, custom silk, and condescension.
"Miss Voss," he said, voice like oil. "Your assistant seems… unusually involved in strategic matters. Are you delegating corporate control now, or simply distracted?"
Aurelia didn't flinch.
Kael raised an eyebrow, just slightly.
"I don't recall you objecting when my 'distractions' increased quarterly profits by nineteen percent," Aurelia said coolly.
A few of the board members chuckled under their breath.
Vincent's smile tightened. "Of course. I merely meant..."
"I know exactly what you meant, Vincent," she interrupted. "And I would advise you to watch your tone. You're not indispensable."
Neither is your lapdog, his eyes said, flicking toward Kael.
But he didn't say it.
Not yet.
Kael remained still, but something inside him coiled. He could feel it... power plays brewing beneath polite words. Some of them had smelled the shift. They saw what happened in her gaze when she looked at him now.
And they would use it.
Later that afternoon, Kael slipped away from the office to check his phone... twelve missed calls from the healer, two from his mother.
When he finally got through, the healer's tone was urgent.
"She collapsed this morning," the woman said. "The rot has moved to her lungs."
Kael felt the floor tilt beneath him.
"How long?"
"Weeks. Maybe less. We need another purge. Tomorrow."
Kael nodded even though she couldn't see him. "I'll find the money."
She hesitated. "Kael, this isn't sustainable."
"Neither is dying."
He ended the call and leaned back against the alley wall, closing his eyes, heart pounding in his throat.
He needed Aurelia's paycheck. Her protection. Her favor.
But how much of himself would he have to give to keep it?
Aurelia stood in her private bathroom, washing her hands in cold water. Her reflection stared back... flawless, unreadable, untouchable. But she could feel it now.
The cracks,
The questions,
Rumors had already begun to circulate through the upper floors. Staff gossip spread like plague: she had finally taken a lover. She'd broken her own code.
She should have been furious.
Instead, she was… breathless.
Kael Drayven had become her addiction. His presence was a fire she kept returning to, knowing it could consume her. His gaze saw her, not just the empire she built. And for the first time in years, she didn't feel alone at the top of the world.
But emotions were liabilities.
And Aurelia Voss did not do weakness.
She would need to remind him of that.
That night, Kael returned to her penthouse office after everyone had left. The city shimmered beyond the windows. He knocked once and entered.
She stood by the window, arms crossed, face unreadable.
"You look like you're about to fire me," he said.
"I should."
He stepped closer. "But you won't."
She turned to him, eyes cold. "You're becoming a distraction."
"You like being distracted."
"That doesn't make it wise."
"No," he said quietly, "but it makes it human."
She didn't move as he closed the distance between them.
"I don't need human," she whispered. "I need control."
"Then why haven't you stopped me?"
Silence.
He reached for her hand and placed it on his chest... right over his racing heart.
"You can end this right now," he said. "Say the word, and I walk away."
She looked up into his eyes.
Then, without warning, she shoved him against the wall and kissed him like she was drowning.
Clothes hit the floor with urgency. Her nails scored down his chest. His mouth found the hollow of her throat, the curve of her hip. She arched beneath him on the desk, moaning his name like a curse and a prayer.
It wasn't sex, it was surrender disguised as war.
And when it was over, they lay tangled in silence, the city humming beyond the glass.
"Don't fall for me," she said into the dark.
He turned his head to look at her.
"I already have."
Her breath hitched.
But she said nothing.
Because deep down, she already had, too.