By 9 a.m., the line was drawn.
Adrian Vale didn't look at Nyra once during the morning briefing.
Not when she entered the room.
Not when she took her seat.
Not even when she corrected a data model that three senior analysts had missed.
Professional distance.
Intentional. Surgical.
Nyra noticed immediately.
She didn't react.
She never did.
"Nyra will now report directly to the Zurich technical lead," Adrian said, eyes fixed on the screen. "All deliverables will be routed through him."
A pause.
A few heads turned toward her.
Nyra leaned back slightly, lips neutral. So that's how he wants to play it.
Elias wasn't there. No buffer. No familiar energy. Just white walls, clean suits, and silence.
"Understood," Nyra said calmly.
Adrian flinched just barely.
The day stretched long and cold.
Emails instead of conversations.
Meeting invites without context.
Feedback delivered through third parties.
Every interaction measured. Distant. Controlled.
Nyra crushed her tasks anyway.
She coded fast. Cleaner. Sharper. Like she had something to prove not to him, but to herself.
You don't get to manage me by ignoring me, she thought.
By afternoon, the office buzzed quietly.
"She's being sidelined," someone whispered.
"No, he's protecting himself," another murmured.
"I heard she pissed him off."
Nyra heard everything.
She said nothing.
Rumors were currency. She didn't trade in them.
Across the floor, Adrian watched her through glass walls and reflections.
She didn't look bothered.
That unsettled him.
She moved with the same confidence. The same quiet power. Laughing once with a designer. Focused, unshaken.
Professional distance was supposed to help him breathe.
It didn't.
It only made the silence louder.
Late evening.
Nyra packed her bag, stood, and left without a glance in his direction.
The elevator doors closed between them.
Adrian stayed seated long after the office emptied, staring at the empty space she'd occupied.
Distance was the responsible move.
He knew that.
But as the city darkened and the lights flickered on, one truth settled heavy in his chest:
Distance didn't weaken the pull.
It sharpened it.