The silence between Amber and Alex after everything that had unfolded was heavier than any argument they had ever shared. It wasn't the kind of silence that brought peace—it was the kind that pressed into the chest, demanding acknowledgment.
Amber stood by the tall windows of her private office at Gareth Accessories, the city stretched beneath her like a living, breathing organism. Cars moved, lights blinked, people lived their lives unaware that inside this glass tower, control and desire were locked in a quiet war.
Her phone buzzed for the third time in five minutes. She didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was.
Alex Wilson didn't retreat easily.
She exhaled slowly and turned away from the window, finally picking up the phone.
"You're persistent," she said coolly.
"And you're avoiding me," Alex replied without hesitation. His voice was low, steady—too calm for someone who had been shut out repeatedly.
"I'm busy," Amber said.
"So am I," he countered. "Yet here we are."
There was a pause. The kind filled with everything unsaid.
"Meet me," Alex said finally. "Tonight."
Amber's grip tightened on the phone. "This isn't wise."
"Since when have you ever lived by what was wise?"
She almost smiled. Almost.
"Where?" she asked.
—
The restaurant was private, discreet, and carefully selected—no paparazzi, no investors, no whispers hiding behind champagne glasses. Just dim lighting, soft music, and a tension so thick it felt tangible.
Alex was already seated when Amber arrived. He stood when he saw her, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made her acutely aware of every step she took toward him.
"You look like trouble," he said.
"And you look like a mistake," Amber replied, taking her seat.
Alex chuckled. "Yet you came."
"Curiosity," she said. "Not weakness."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Their food arrived, but neither of them touched it immediately. The real hunger in the room wasn't for what sat on the table.
"You're pushing too hard," Amber said after a moment. "The merger, the press, me. You don't win wars by forcing battles."
Alex leaned back, studying her. "And you don't win them by pretending you don't care."
Her eyes sharpened. "Care is not the same as surrender."
"No," he agreed softly. "But it's the first step toward it."
Amber felt the familiar heat coil in her chest—annoyance mixed with something far more dangerous. "You think this is a game."
"I think," Alex said, leaning forward now, "that you're terrified of wanting something you can't fully control."
The words landed exactly where they were meant to.
Amber's expression didn't change, but inside, something shifted. "Be careful," she warned.
"Or what?"
"Or you'll learn that I don't break easily."
Alex's gaze darkened. "I'm not trying to break you."
"Then what are you trying to do?"
His answer came slower this time. Honest. Heavy.
"Stand beside you."
—
Across town, Camila sat in the Gareth mansion's study, documents spread before her, but her mind was elsewhere. She had seen the way Amber had been moving lately—more guarded, more restless.
This wasn't just business anymore.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
Be careful. Not everyone around you wants the Gareth sisters standing together.
Camila frowned. She typed back immediately.
Who is this?
The reply came almost instantly.
Someone who knows the cost of loyalty.
Camila's jaw tightened. She forwarded the message to Amber, her instincts screaming that the storm was far from over.
—
Back at the restaurant, the conversation had shifted—less guarded, more dangerous.
"You ever wonder," Alex said quietly, "what would happen if you stopped carrying everything alone?"
Amber's fingers traced the rim of her glass. "People disappoint."
"So do walls," he replied. "They keep threats out—but they also keep everything else away."
She looked at him then. Really looked. Not as a rival. Not as a CEO. But as a man who refused to be intimidated by her strength.
"That's the problem," she admitted softly. "I don't know how to want without losing."
Alex reached across the table, stopping just short of touching her hand. "Wanting isn't losing. It's risking."
"And risk," Amber said, her voice barely above a whisper, "is expensive."
He smiled—not smug, not victorious. Understanding.
"So are you."
—
The drive home was quiet. Amber sat alone in the back seat, city lights streaking past the tinted windows. Camila's forwarded message glowed on her phone screen.
Someone was watching.
Someone was waiting.
And somehow, in the middle of corporate warfare, family loyalty, and public scrutiny, her heart had decided to complicate everything.
When she finally reached the mansion, she didn't go straight to her room. She stood in the hallway for a long moment, heels in hand, thinking of Alex's voice. His certainty. His refusal to back down.
She didn't trust easily.
She didn't fall quickly.
But she could feel the ground shifting beneath her feet.
And for the first time in a long time, Amber Gareth wasn't sure whether she wanted to stop it.
The silence between Amber and Alex after everything that had unfolded was heavier than any argument they had ever shared. It wasn't the kind of silence that brought peace—it was the kind that pressed into the chest, demanding acknowledgment.
Amber stood by the tall windows of her private office at Gareth Accessories, the city stretched beneath her like a living, breathing organism. Cars moved, lights blinked, people lived their lives unaware that inside this glass tower, control and desire were locked in a quiet war.
Her phone buzzed for the third time in five minutes. She didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was.
Alex Wilson didn't retreat easily.
She exhaled slowly and turned away from the window, finally picking up the phone.
"You're persistent," she said coolly.
"And you're avoiding me," Alex replied without hesitation. His voice was low, steady—too calm for someone who had been shut out repeatedly.
"I'm busy," Amber said.
"So am I," he countered. "Yet here we are."
There was a pause. The kind filled with everything unsaid.
"Meet me," Alex said finally. "Tonight."
Amber's grip tightened on the phone. "This isn't wise."
"Since when have you ever lived by what was wise?"
She almost smiled. Almost.
"Where?" she asked.
—
The restaurant was private, discreet, and carefully selected—no paparazzi, no investors, no whispers hiding behind champagne glasses. Just dim lighting, soft music, and a tension so thick it felt tangible.
Alex was already seated when Amber arrived. He stood when he saw her, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made her acutely aware of every step she took toward him.
"You look like trouble," he said.
"And you look like a mistake," Amber replied, taking her seat.
Alex chuckled. "Yet you came."
"Curiosity," she said. "Not weakness."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Their food arrived, but neither of them touched it immediately. The real hunger in the room wasn't for what sat on the table.
"You're pushing too hard," Amber said after a moment. "The merger, the press, me. You don't win wars by forcing battles."
Alex leaned back, studying her. "And you don't win them by pretending you don't care."
Her eyes sharpened. "Care is not the same as surrender."
"No," he agreed softly. "But it's the first step toward it."
Amber felt the familiar heat coil in her chest—annoyance mixed with something far more dangerous. "You think this is a game."
"I think," Alex said, leaning forward now, "that you're terrified of wanting something you can't fully control."
The words landed exactly where they were meant to.
Amber's expression didn't change, but inside, something shifted. "Be careful," she warned.
"Or what?"
"Or you'll learn that I don't break easily."
Alex's gaze darkened. "I'm not trying to break you."
"Then what are you trying to do?"
His answer came slower this time. Honest. Heavy.
"Stand beside you."
—
Across town, Camila sat in the Gareth mansion's study, documents spread before her, but her mind was elsewhere. She had seen the way Amber had been moving lately—more guarded, more restless.
This wasn't just business anymore.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
Be careful. Not everyone around you wants the Gareth sisters standing together.
Camila frowned. She typed back immediately.
Who is this?
The reply came almost instantly.
Someone who knows the cost of loyalty.
Camila's jaw tightened. She forwarded the message to Amber, her instincts screaming that the storm was far from over.
—
Back at the restaurant, the conversation had shifted—less guarded, more dangerous.
"You ever wonder," Alex said quietly, "what would happen if you stopped carrying everything alone?"
Amber's fingers traced the rim of her glass. "People disappoint."
"So do walls," he replied. "They keep threats out—but they also keep everything else away."
She looked at him then. Really looked. Not as a rival. Not as a CEO. But as a man who refused to be intimidated by her strength.
"That's the problem," she admitted softly. "I don't know how to want without losing."
Alex reached across the table, stopping just short of touching her hand. "Wanting isn't losing. It's risking."
"And risk," Amber said, her voice barely above a whisper, "is expensive."
He smiled—not smug, not victorious. Understanding.
"So are you."
—
The drive home was quiet. Amber sat alone in the back seat, city lights streaking past the tinted windows. Camila's forwarded message glowed on her phone screen.
Someone was watching.
Someone was waiting.
And somehow, in the middle of corporate warfare, family loyalty, and public scrutiny, her heart had decided to complicate everything.
When she finally reached the mansion, she didn't go straight to her room. She stood in the hallway for a long moment, heels in hand, thinking of Alex's voice. His certainty. His refusal to back down.
She didn't trust easily.
She didn't fall quickly.
But she could feel the ground shifting beneath her feet.
And for the first time in a long time, Amber Gareth wasn't sure whether she wanted to stop it.