Nyra was not his type.
Adrian told himself that for the fifth time that morning.
She was loud in the wrong ways. Defiant where obedience made things efficient. Smelled faintly of smoke even after showers that cost more than most people's rent. She didn't soften her voice when she spoke, didn't bend her posture to make men comfortable.
Red flags. Every single one.
Adrian preferred women who understood structure. Women who fit seamlessly into rooms full of power without disrupting the flow. Clean lines. Predictable reactions. Control.
Nyra was chaos dressed in discipline.
He watched her from across the conference room, jaw tight, fingers clasped behind his back. She stood near the window, sunlight cutting across her skin, locs loose today, falling like intention instead of accident. She listened more than she spoke, eyes sharp, absorbing everything.
Too sharp.
She caught inconsistencies faster than his senior analysts. Pushed back when things didn't make sense. Didn't apologize for it.
That alone should've irritated him.
Instead, it pulled at something low and unpleasant in his chest.
Adrian hated that.
You're reacting because she's rebellious, he told himself. Because she challenges authority.
He had dealt with that before.
But this felt different.
This wasn't irritation. It wasn't curiosity.
It was attraction and it infuriated him.
Nyra laughed softly at something Elias said, head tilting back just slightly. Adrian's focus snapped to her without permission. The curve of her mouth. The way confidence lived in her body like it had every right to be there.
Perfectly beautiful.
Annoyingly so.
He clenched his jaw.
Men had weaknesses. He knew that. Acknowledged it. Controlled it.
And yet, with Nyra, control felt… delayed.
"She's a liability," he muttered under his breath.
Or maybe that was the lie he needed.
He watched her again, this time with a colder lens. Rebellious. Undisciplined. Resistant to authority. Exactly the kind of person who needed structure imposed on them.
A leash.
The thought settled uncomfortably and then stayed.
This is professional, he reassured himself. She needs boundaries. Direction. Standards.
It had nothing to do with the way her presence filled a room.
Nothing to do with the way she met his gaze without blinking.
Nothing to do with how his body reacted before his mind could intervene.
He straightened his cuffs, restoring order where he could.
"This is temporary," he told himself. "A challenge. Nothing more."
Across the room, Nyra glanced up.
Their eyes met.
She didn't look away.
Something twisted in Adrian's chest sharp, unfamiliar.
He broke eye contact first.
And hated himself for it.