Gabriel's POV
It's 6 PM when Gabriel tells Lily she needs to stay late.
He has a legitimate reason. The Brookfield analysis needs another set of eyes. The financial modeling is complex. They should finish the preliminary report tonight.
All of that is true.
But the real reason is he can't watch her leave.
Lily looks up from her desk, hesitant. "It's getting late. I don't want to take up your time."
"You're not taking my time," Gabriel says. "You're doing your job. And the job isn't finished."
She nods and goes back to her computer. Gabriel returns to his office but leaves the door open. He can see her from his desk. Chestnut hair tucked behind her ear. Gray eyes focused on the screen. Fingers moving across the keyboard with purpose.
When she's near, the basement memories fade.
It's like she mutes the screaming in his head. The panic doesn't build. The walls don't close in. He can breathe like a normal person instead of a man holding onto sanity by his fingernails.
Gabriel tells himself this is why he keeps her close. Clinical. Therapeutic. Like his therapist would approve if she knew he was using a junior intern as an emotional support system.
The truth is darker.
The truth is he's becoming addicted to her presence.
Around 7 PM, Lily brings him the preliminary analysis. They work side by side, comparing projections and risk assessments. Gabriel watches her challenge his assumptions.
"What about vacancy rates?" she asks, pointing to a section. "This property shows three percent annual vacancy. But the market average is eight percent. That seems unrealistic."
Gabriel considers this. Most people don't push back on his analysis. They nod and agree and make themselves small.
Lily doesn't make herself small.
"Good catch," he says. "The property manager is optimistic. We should adjust the model."
They spend the next two hours refining the numbers. Lily asks questions that make him think differently. Her insights are sharp. Her logic is sound. Gabriel finds himself explaining commercial real estate strategy in depth, something he's never bothered doing with other employees.
She matters.
That's the dangerous part. She matters in a way no one has mattered in sixteen years.
Around 8 PM, Lily's stomach growls.
Loudly.
She goes pale with embarrassment. Presses her hand against her stomach like she can stop her body from betraying her hunger.
Gabriel realizes she skipped lunch. Again. On her third day.
"When did you eat last?" he asks.
"Breakfast," Lily whispers.
Gabriel doesn't ask permission. He picks up his phone and calls downstairs. "I want dinner for two. The usual from Ming's Palace. Beef and broccoli, szechuan noodles, fried rice, spring rolls. Thirty minutes."
Lily's eyes widen. "You don't have to do that."
"You're working for me. You need to eat." He says it like it's simple. Like caring about her basic survival isn't crossing professional boundaries. "My office. Twenty minutes."
The food arrives in a cardboard box that smells incredible. Gabriel sets it up on the small table by the window. Lily hesitates like she's afraid to join him. Like eating dinner together is too intimate.
It probably is.
Gabriel doesn't care.
She sits across from him and they eat in silence for a moment. Just the sound of chopsticks and the city sprawling below them.
"Why do you skip lunch?" Gabriel asks.
Lily shrugs. "Intern salary doesn't stretch far. Cafeteria prices add up."
Gabriel's jaw clenches. She's hungry and he's been working her all day without making sure she was fed. That's a failure. That's him not taking care of what's his.
"That stops," he says quietly. "Tomorrow you eat lunch. I don't care what it costs. Understood?"
"Mr. Stone—"
"Gabriel," he interrupts. "When we're alone, it's Gabriel."
Lily sets down her chopsticks. "That's not appropriate."
"Nothing about this is appropriate," Gabriel says. He gestures between them. "You're an intern. I'm your CEO. We shouldn't be eating dinner alone in my office. We shouldn't be having conversations that aren't work-related. But here we are."
He takes a bite of noodles and waits.
Lily picks her chopsticks back up and they fall into an easier rhythm. She tells him about her foster care placements. About the family who actually tried to adopt her but lost custody in court. About working three jobs to afford community college.
Gabriel finds himself talking back. About building Stone Global from nothing after his family disowned him. About the company becoming his identity because he had nothing else. About controlling every aspect of his life because control was the only thing that kept him sane.
He doesn't mention the basement. Not directly. But Lily understands because she's lived in chaos too. She knows what it means to have no safety net. No one to catch you when you fall.
"You built an empire," Lily says softly. "Because you couldn't control being hurt, so you controlled everything else."
Gabriel stares at her.
"That's what I did too," she continues. "Made myself small. Made myself invisible. That way nothing bad could happen because no one noticed I existed."
"You're not invisible anymore," Gabriel says.
Their eyes meet across the table and something electric passes between them. Something that feels like recognition. Like two damaged people finally seeing each other.
Lily relaxes. Actually relaxes. Her shoulders drop. Her expression softens. She smiles and Gabriel feels it hit him like a physical force.
It's the first real smile he's seen from her. Not polite. Not guarded. Real.
And Gabriel realizes something that terrifies him.
He's starting to feel again.
For sixteen years, his chest has been numb. His emotions locked in a vault he threw away the key to. He trained himself not to want things. Not to need people. Not to feel because feeling makes you vulnerable.
But Lily's smile just broke something open inside him.
Something he thought was dead is waking up.
Around 11 PM, Lily stands to leave. Gabriel walks her to the elevator even though it's against his better judgment. Even though following her is a line he shouldn't cross.
The elevator doors open. She steps inside.
"Thank you for dinner," Lily says. "And for... staying late with me."
Gabriel doesn't respond. He watches the doors close and tells himself to go back to his office. To lock down this feeling before it consumes him.
Instead, his hand moves toward the elevator button.
He could follow her. He could tell himself he's making sure she gets home safe. He could make it sound reasonable. Protective. Not obsessive.
He could follow her home and watch her apartment until he knows she's locked inside with all the lights on. He could drive past tomorrow to make sure she made it through the night without something bad happening.
He could mark her as his and keep her close and make sure no one ever hurts her again.
Gabriel's hand drops.
Not yet.
But soon. When she trusts him more. When the boundaries are even thinner. When she looks at him like he's not a monster who fired people for breathing.
Soon he'll follow.
And Lily won't run.