The night arrived without warning, the city lights stretching like a web beneath the penthouse. I was organizing his files when Adrian appeared in the doorway, silent and deliberate as always.
"You're still here," he noted, voice calm but edged with something I couldn't name.
"I wanted to finish before tomorrow," I replied, trying to steady my hands, feeling the familiar tightening in my chest whenever he was near.
He stepped closer, the space between us charged. "Long hours aren't enough," he murmured. "You need focus. Precision. Awareness. Every moment counts."
"Yes, sir," I whispered, though my mind raced with more than just work.
He moved around the desk, brushing past me with casual authority, and I felt a spark—small, electric—at the faint contact. My pulse surged.
"Do you ever stop?" I asked, testing a fragment of defiance.
He paused, gaze sharp. "Stop?"
"Yes. To breathe. To… think."
A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips. "I don't stop. And neither can you—not if you intend to survive here."
I nodded, aware that survival had become more than just executing tasks. It was navigating him, reading him, anticipating him—learning the rhythm of his presence and the weight of his expectations.
He leaned on the desk, closer now, and I felt the pull of proximity I couldn't resist. The rules whispered in my mind: answer, be honest, protect your heart. And yet, even as I clung to them, the line between compliance and desire blurred
"Remember," he said softly, voice low and deliberate, "this isn't personal. It's business. It's structure. It's survival."
"I understand," I whispered, though a small part of me wondered if I ever could truly separate the two.
He straightened, stepping back, leaving a lingering tension in the room. I realized then that the invisible tether between us had grown stronger—unseen, undeniable, and increasingly impossible to ignore.
Alone, I felt the pull of his presence even in his absence. Adrian Blackwood didn't just control his world—he controlled the space inside me, the rhythm of my thoughts, the beats of my heart.
And I was beginning to wonder if I even wanted to escape.