Adrian stared at her empty chair.
For the first time, it wasn't just a desk without someone sitting there.
It felt like a missing limb.
The office buzzed around him keyboards clacking, printers whining, interns whispering but all of it blurred. Every line of code, every project status report, every spreadsheet felt like static noise without her presence to anchor the chaos.
He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. No suit could iron this crease out. No meeting could distract him. No one else's competence came close.
Elias had stepped in, polite, capable, and… utterly incapable of filling her shoes. Adrian noticed immediately. Everything she touched seemed lighter, sharper, cleaner. Everyone else left a residue of hesitation. Nyra left clarity.
He walked the floor slowly, stopping at her desk again. Fingers hovered over the edge of her keyboard. The screen was asleep. The silence of it roared in his ears.
"Where the hell are you, Nyra?" he muttered under his breath, teeth gritted.
A colleague approached with a question about one of her assignments. He waved them off without listening, distracted. The words didn't matter. None of it mattered.
Adrian clenched his fists and spun to the window. City lights stretched across the skyline, indifferent. It felt like every one of them was mocking him reminding him she was out of reach. Out of sight. Out of control.
Control. Adrian lived by it. And yet, Nyra had always… slipped past it. She challenged him without trying. Now, with her gone, he realized: he didn't just want control. He needed it back.
He paced. Half the office whispered. He didn't notice. He ran through her code in his mind, memorized the patterns, traced every project she owned, trying to anticipate what she would do next.
And for the first time, he admitted it silently:
He was powerless.
Powerless. And it made him furious.
By lunch, he was visibly restless. The team noticed. He barked at a printer, slammed a folder closed, muttered under his breath.
Someone asked if he wanted to call her. He shook his head violently. Couldn't. Shouldn't. Yet the pull in his chest was relentless.
She wasn't just smart, not just beautiful. Not just a threat to his ego. She was unpredictable, and he was beginning to understand that for him, unpredictability wasn't frustrating it was dangerous.
Because it wasn't her leaving that rattled him.
It was realizing how much he needed her.
And Adrian Vale didn't need anyone.
Until now.