Rina & Zane's POV
The restaurant buzzed with the hum of evening chatter and clinking glasses. Rina leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief as Zane recounted a story from the office.
"You should see him," Zane said, grinning. "All ice on the outside, but trust me—there's a fire simmering beneath."
Rina laughed, swirling her wine. "Sounds like my kind of trouble."
Zane raised an eyebrow. "Careful what you wish for."
Their conversation drifted into comfortable silences, fingers brushing over the table. The air between them was charged with something new and electric.
Rina's voice dropped to a whisper. "So, what's the real story with you and the boss? You're the right hand, but you're no robot."
Zane's smirk softened into something almost vulnerable. "Let's just say I know when to hold the line—and when to break it."
Rina's smile widened. "I like that."
They clinked glasses, the sound ringing like a promise of things to come.
The dim glow of the candle flickered between them, casting soft shadows over Rina's face. She twirled her wine glass slowly, eyes locked on Zane's with a mixture of curiosity and challenge.
"So," she said, voice light but teasing, "you're really the boss's right hand, huh? I guess that means you get all the juicy secrets."
Zane chuckled, a low, warm sound that made her heart skip. "I hear things. I see things. Mostly, I make sure the boss doesn't lose his mind trying to keep everything together."
Rina leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Sounds exhausting."
"Maybe," he admitted. "But it's worth it—especially when there's a distraction like you around."
She blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. "Me?"
He nodded slowly, a playful smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you. The wild card."
There was a pause, a moment where the air between them thickened. Rina's cheeks warmed as she looked away, suddenly self-conscious.
Zane reached out again, this time brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
"See?" he murmured. "I'm already losing control."
Rina swallowed hard, her breath catching. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing."
---
Jason
Back in his office, Jason's mind refused to quiet. He replayed the way Catherine had looked when he'd spoken to her earlier—her cool composure, the slight hitch in her breath, the way her eyes had flickered with something unspoken.
He hated feeling like he was losing control. Hated it more that she was the cause.
But he pushed the thought down, shoved it deep where it couldn't infect his carefully guarded world.
She was a temptation. A risk. A game he planned to win on his own terms.
Nothing more.
---
Zane and Rina
The night stretched on, laughter turning softer, words becoming more intimate without being said.
Rina caught Zane's gaze over the rim of her glass and felt a thrill that had nothing to do with the wine.
"Promise me something," she said quietly.
Zane raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"That this—" she gestured between them "—stays just as fun as it is right now."
He smiled, a real smile that reached his eyes. "No promises."
And with that, the butterflies took flight — both caught in a moment they weren't quite ready to name but both knew was beginning.
Zane's fingers brushed hers again—this time intentionally—sending a spark up her arm that made her pulse quicken. He caught her surprised glance with a lazy smile, one that promised mischief and maybe something more.
"You know," he said low, "I've dealt with a lot of wild cards in my life. But you, Rina, might just be the best kind of chaos."
Rina laughed, a genuine, light sound that lifted the tension from her shoulders. "Is that a compliment or a warning?"
"Maybe a little of both," Zane replied, eyes twinkling. "But mostly a compliment. The kind you don't want to forget."
Her cheeks warmed, but she held his gaze without looking away. "I don't plan to."
There was a pause, thick with unspoken things. The kind of silence that isn't empty, but full — full of promises, possibilities, and the sweet, dizzying uncertainty of something new.
Zane's voice dropped to a near whisper. "So… what's next for us, Rina? More dinners? More wild nights? Or just… whatever this is?"
She smiled, a soft, shy curl of her lips that made his heart beat a little faster. "Whatever this is sounds pretty good to me."
He reached across the table, his hand covering hers fully this time. The warmth of his touch grounded her, even as butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
"Good," he said, voice husky. "Because I'm not great at playing it safe."
Rina's smile grew. "Neither am I."
For a moment, the rest of the world fell away. No offices, no company drama, no pressure. Just two people, caught in the thrill of something deliciously unpredictable.
And as their hands stayed entwined, the night stretched ahead, full of promise.
The waiter poured another round of wine, leaving the bottle on the table with a soft thud. The candlelight flickered between them, casting shadows that danced across Zane's sharp features.
Rina felt the warmth of the flame — and the way Zane's eyes seemed to catch the light, flickering with something unspoken.
"So," Zane said, leaning in just a fraction closer, "tell me something no one at the office knows about you."
Rina blinked, caught off guard. She studied him — that confident smirk, the way his gaze was both teasing and serious — and suddenly, the noise of the restaurant dimmed, as if the entire room had shrunk down to just this moment.
"Well," she started, her voice dropping to a softer, huskier tone, "I'm terrible at first dates. Always have been. Nervous laughter, awkward silences… I'm a walking cliché."
Zane chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm glad you're not nervous now."
"Maybe because this isn't a first date," she whispered, letting her eyes hold his a little longer than necessary.
He raised an eyebrow. "Is it a second, then?"
She bit her lip, heart fluttering, caught between daring and caution. "Could be."
Their fingers brushed again — light, teasing — and the electricity between them pulsed stronger. Zane's smile deepened, but there was a flicker of something guarded behind his eyes, a hint that he was playing his own careful game.
"Rina," he said softly, voice thick with feeling, "I don't do 'maybe.' I'm the kind of guy who takes chances. Full throttle. No brakes."
The corner of her mouth twitched into a shy grin. "That sounds terrifying."
"Only if you're afraid of falling."
Her breath caught.
For a heartbeat, their faces were inches apart — the scent of his cologne mingling with the warm glow of the candlelight, the steady rhythm of their breathing syncing in the quiet.
Then, with a teasing smirk, Zane finally pulled back just enough to give her a wink.
"But hey," he said, voice playful, "if you're up for it, I'm ready to see where this wild ride goes."
Rina's heart swelled, a giddy, fluttering ache that had nothing to do with the wine. She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest — the kind that makes you believe maybe, just maybe, taking a risk isn't so scary after all.
"Alright, Mr. Full Throttle," she said softly, "let's see what happens."