Clariss didn't move right away.
She stood where she was, perfectly still, long after Damian had disappeared down the hallway and long after Amara had returned to her desk with that infuriating smile on her face.
A smile Clariss hated.
Not the shy kind.
Not the polite kind.
But the soft, unguarded one—the kind that appeared only when someone felt safe. Cherished.
Chosen.
Clariss's nails dug into her palm as she watched Amara lower herself into her chair, carefully placing the paper bag on her desk as though it were something precious. Clariss didn't even need to see the logo to know what it was.
Damian's doing.
Her jaw tightened.
So that was it.
That was why Kael had been so distracted lately. Why his attention drifted. Why his eyes—once sharp and focused on everything around him—kept straying toward one direction.
Amara.
Again.
Always her.
Clariss turned away before her expression betrayed too much. She walked back toward her own department with measured steps, heels clicking softly against the floor, every movement controlled.
But inside—
She was boiling.
That woman again.
Clariss had never liked Amara.
Not because Amara was loud or arrogant or attention-seeking.
But because she wasn't.
Amara didn't try.
She didn't cling.
She didn't force her presence.
And yet—men gravitated toward her anyway.
Kael had always been clear with Clariss. Cold. Distant. Untouchable.
"Keep your hands to yourself," he had once said flatly when she'd tried to hook her arm around his.
"You're crossing a line."
But today?
Today, he let her cling to him.
Clariss smiled bitterly at the memory.
Only because he wanted to hurt Amara.
That realization should have satisfied her.
But it didn't.
Because instead of seeing Amara crumble—
She saw Amara laugh.
Smile.
Be comforted by another man.
By Damian.
Clariss entered the restroom and locked herself into a stall, pressing her back against the door as she exhaled sharply. Her reflection in the mirror outside was flawless—but her thoughts were anything but.
"So you think you've won," she whispered under her breath.
Her lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile.
"Not yet."
Amara tried to focus on her work.
She really did.
The spreadsheet in front of her was familiar. Easy. Something she had done a hundred times before.
But her fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard.
Her mind refused to settle.
She kept replaying Damian's smile.
His voice.
The way he said I missed you so casually—as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She shook her head lightly and took a sip of the drink he'd bought her.
Warmth spread through her chest.
Stop it, she scolded herself gently. Focus.
Just as she finally managed to ground herself, a shadow fell across her desk.
"Amara."
She looked up.
Clariss stood there.
Smiling.
The polite kind.
The kind that never quite reached her eyes.
"Oh," Amara said softly, surprised. "Clariss. Is there something you need?"
Clariss tilted her head, studying Amara like one might observe a puzzle.
"I just wanted to talk," she said lightly. "Do you have a moment?"
Amara hesitated.
Something about Clariss's tone made her uneasy. But refusing outright felt impolite—and unnecessary.
"Sure," she replied after a moment. "What is it?"
Clariss glanced around. "Not here. Maybe somewhere more… private?"
Amara's stomach tightened.
But she nodded.
They walked together toward the lounge area near the emergency stairs—a place quiet enough to speak without being overheard.
The moment they stopped, Clariss's smile shifted.
It sharpened.
"I saw what happened earlier," Clariss said casually. "In the hallway."
Amara stiffened.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
Clariss chuckled softly. "Oh, come on. You don't have to pretend with me."
Her eyes flicked pointedly toward Amara's desk—toward the empty paper bag.
"Damian seems very… attentive."
Amara swallowed.
"He's just a friend," she said carefully.
Clariss raised an eyebrow. "Is he?"
The question wasn't curious.
It was probing.
Amara straightened. "Why are you asking?"
Clariss crossed her arms. "Because I think it's interesting. That's all."
"Interesting how?" Amara asked quietly.
Clariss leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"Interesting how quickly you move on."
The words landed like a slap.
Amara's eyes widened. "I didn't—"
"Didn't what?" Clariss interrupted smoothly. "Didn't mean to let Kael see you laughing with another man? Didn't mean to fall into Damian's arms on the floor?"
Amara's cheeks burned—not with embarrassment this time, but anger.
"That was an accident."
Clariss shrugged. "Accidents have a way of revealing truths."
Amara clenched her hands at her sides. "If you have something to say, please just say it."
Clariss studied her for a long moment.
Then she smiled again.
Slow.
Calculated.
"I just wanted to warn you," she said.
"Warn me about what?"
Clariss straightened, her voice sweetening.
"Kael doesn't like to lose."
Amara's expression hardened. "I'm not something to win or lose."
Clariss laughed quietly. "That's where you're wrong."
She leaned in once more, eyes glinting.
"You may think you're done with him. That you've moved on. But Kael Navarro doesn't let go of what he believes belongs to him."
Amara felt a chill crawl up her spine.
"And Damian?" Clariss continued softly. "Men like him don't get involved without knowing the consequences."
"What are you trying to say?" Amara asked, voice steady despite the tension.
Clariss stepped back.
"Oh, nothing," she said lightly. "Just… be careful."
She turned to leave, then paused.
"One more thing," she added over her shoulder. "If you really cared about Damian…"
She glanced back, smile sharp.
"You wouldn't drag him into something this messy."
And with that, Clariss walked away.
Leaving silence behind.
Amara stood frozen for several seconds.
Her heart pounded—not with fear, but with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Dragged him into something messy?
She took a deep breath.
No.
She wasn't going to let Clariss's words take root.
She had spent too long doubting herself. Too long shrinking to make others comfortable.
She wasn't doing that anymore.
When Amara finally returned to her desk, she kept her expression neutral, even though her chest still felt tight. She sat down, opened her computer, and stared at the screen without really seeing it.
"Hey."
The voice came from beside her.
Amara turned her head slightly and found AJ looking at her with concern. She had only joined their department recently, but somehow she already felt… familiar. Easy to talk to. Safe.
"You look like you just walked out of a battlefield," AJ said quietly, half-joking, half-serious. "You okay?"
Amara blinked, surprised by how close she was sitting. She hadn't even noticed her return to her desk.
"I'm fine," she replied automatically.
AJ didn't look convinced.
"Right," she said, leaning back in her chair. "And I'm secretly the CEO."
She let out a small breath of a laugh despite herself.
AJ smiled, relieved to see it. "Something happened, didn't it?"
Amara hesitated.
She wasn't sure why—but with AJ, it didn't feel dangerous to be honest. Maybe because she wasn't tangled in her past. She didn't look at her with expectations or assumptions.
"She talked to me," Amara said quietly.
AJ frowned. "Clariss?"
Amara nodded.
AJ let out a low whistle. "That explains the look."
"She didn't say anything outright threatening," Amara continued. "But it felt… heavy. Like she wanted to get inside my head."
AJ's expression hardened slightly. "People like that usually do."
Amara glanced at her. "You sound like you've met her type before."
AJ shrugged. "Office politics. Different faces, same tricks."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Just so you know—you didn't do anything wrong."
Amara looked at her, startled.
"I saw what happened earlier," AJ added carefully. "Not all of it. But enough to know you weren't the one causing a scene."
Her throat tightened.
"Sometimes," AJ continued, "people get mad not because you did something bad—but because you stopped letting them control the story."
Amara swallowed.
"That's… oddly comforting," she admitted.
AJ smiled lightly. "Good. Then my job here is done."
She straightened and picked up her mouse. "And hey—if she pulls anything weird, you don't have to deal with it alone. Even if I'm new, I'm not blind."
Amara felt something steady settle inside her.
Not butterflies.
Not chaos.
But reassurance.
Across the floor, behind partially closed blinds—
Kael watched.
He saw Amara return to her desk. Saw her talk to AJ. Saw the way her shoulders slowly relaxed as she listened. Saw the faint smile that curved her lips—not forced, not defensive.
And something twisted uncomfortably in his chest.