Seraphina was halfway through her morning coffee when the email came in.
Subject: Business Trip – Immediate Preparation Required
From: Draven Crowe
Her heart skipped.
She read it twice.
Two-day trip to Chicago. You'll be accompanying me. Pack light. We leave tonight.
No explanation. No room for negotiation.
By the time she stepped into Draven's office an hour later, her pulse was already racing.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, already standing. "This trip is critical. I need someone I trust."
The word trust lingered between them.
"I'll make arrangements," she said carefully.
Draven studied her for a long moment. "This won't be easy. You'll be in my space. Constantly."
"I can handle it," she said.
"I'm not sure you understand what I mean," he replied quietly.
⸻
The private jet was quieter than she expected.
Leather seats. Soft lighting. The faint hum of engines beneath their feet.
Seraphina sat across from Draven, trying to focus on her tablet while being acutely aware of every movement he made.
At some point, turbulence hit.
The plane jolted, and instinctively, her hand grabbed the armrest.
Draven's hand covered hers without hesitation.
"I've got you," he said.
The contact sent heat racing through her veins.
Neither of them moved.
Then he released her slowly, as if reminding himself of something he'd almost forgotten.
⸻
The hotel was… an issue.
"There's been a mistake," the concierge said nervously. "We're fully booked due to the summit."
Draven's jaw tightened. "Explain."
"We only have one executive suite available."
"That won't work," Seraphina said quickly.
"It will," Draven replied calmly. "We'll manage."
⸻
The suite was breathtaking and far too intimate.
One bedroom.
One living space.
One undeniable tension.
Seraphina stood near the window, arms folded. "I can sleep on the couch."
Draven removed his jacket slowly. "No. You take the bed."
"And you?"
"I don't sleep much," he repeated, a familiar phrase now charged with meaning.
⸻
Later that night, Seraphina lay awake, the city lights glowing beyond the glass.
She heard footsteps.
Draven stopped in the doorway.
"You should be asleep," he said.
"So should you."
He didn't argue.
"I need you to understand something," he said quietly. "This arrangement, this proximity, it changes things."
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Does it scare you?"
His eyes darkened.
"Yes."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her heart pounding and one truth echoing in her mind
This trip would change everything.
The realization settled slowly, heavily, as Seraphina turned onto her side and stared at the faint reflection of city lights on the ceiling. She could still hear him moving in the living area, footsteps measured, restrained. The sound made sleep impossible.
She closed her eyes anyway.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The quiet was not peaceful. It was charged, stretched thin by everything neither of them dared to say.
Seraphina finally slept, but not deeply.