The office was unusually quiet by the time night fell.
Seraphina sat at her desk, the glow from her screen reflecting exhaustion in her eyes. She had planned to leave earlier, but a last-minute request from Draven had changed everything.
Stay. We need to review the contracts tonight.
That was all the message said.
No explanation. No apology.
Just expectation.
She heard footsteps behind her and straightened instinctively.
"You're still here."
Draven's voice was calm, but there was something beneath it; approval, perhaps.
"You asked me to stay," she replied, closing her laptop.
He nodded. "Good. Come in."
⸻
His office felt different at night.
The city lights painted the walls in gold and shadow, softening the sharp edges of power that usually defined the room. Draven loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves, and for the first time, he looked… human.
They sat across from each other at the conference table, documents spread between them.
"You've adapted faster than I anticipated," Draven said. "Most people don't survive this environment."
Seraphina met his gaze. "I don't plan on being most people."
A pause.
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
⸻
As the hours passed, the air grew heavier. Not with tension from work, but with everything left unsaid.
Their hands brushed while reaching for the same file.
Neither moved away immediately.
"Careful," Draven murmured. "This is how mistakes happen."
Her breath caught. "Then why don't you stop it?"
His jaw tightened. "Because control isn't as simple as it looks."
The honesty surprised them both.
⸻
The storm hit without warning.
Thunder cracked across the sky, followed by a sudden power outage. The room plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the city below.
Seraphina gasped softly.
"Stay where you are," Draven said instantly.
She felt his presence before she saw him, close, steady, grounding.
The emergency lights flickered on, bathing them in dim amber.
"You're shaking," he said.
"It startled me," she whispered.
His hand hovered near her arm. He hesitated… then lowered it.
"This," he said quietly, "is exactly why we need boundaries."
"But you keep crossing them," she replied.
Silence.
Then Draven spoke, his voice dangerously low.
"Because I trust you more than I should."
⸻
The power returned abruptly.
The moment shattered.
Draven stepped back, all walls snapping into place.
"You should go," he said firmly. "It's late."
Seraphina gathered her things, heart pounding.
At the door, she turned.
"Draven?"
He looked up.
"For what it's worth… I don't think this is a mistake."
She left before he could answer.
The office felt too large once she was gone.
Draven remained by the conference table, hands braced against the polished surface, listening to the quiet hum of electricity restored. The storm outside continued, rain streaking down the windows like restless thoughts he could not silence.
Some lines, once tested, demand to be crossed.
The truth of it settled heavily in his chest.
He exhaled slowly, straightened his tie, and forced himself back into control. Control had built everything he owned. Control had protected him. Control was not something he could afford to lose now, not over an employee, not over a woman who looked at him like she saw past the title and into the man beneath it.
He gathered the scattered documents, though his mind barely registered the words on the pages. Seraphina's presence still lingered in the room, quiet and stubborn, like a scent that refused to fade.