The whispers started the morning after the gala.
Nothing loud.
Nothing official.
Just subtle shifts in how people looked at Aria when she walked through the halls of Vale Industries.
Two assistants stopped talking when she passed.
A board member held her gaze a second too long.
Someone had seen something.
Or thought they had.
Dominic, however, was as composed as ever.
"Reschedule the Hawthorne call," he instructed smoothly, signing documents without looking up. "Push it to Monday."
"Yes, sir."
Sir.
She'd started saying it again.
Creating distance.
Because last night on that balcony had felt dangerously close to something else.
By late evening, the office had emptied.
Only the top floor lights remained on.
Aria gathered the final file from the printer, smoothing the stack against her palm.
"You can leave," Dominic said from inside his office.
She stepped in, placing the file on his desk. "You have the infrastructure review at eight tomorrow. I've prepped the notes."
His eyes lifted to hers.
Lingering.
"You're staying late."
"So are you."
Silence.
It felt heavier now. Charged.
She turned first. "Goodnight, Mr. Vale."
"Aria."
Her name sounded different in his voice.
Softer.
She paused but didn't turn around.
"Yes?"
A beat passed.
Then—
"Nothing. Goodnight."
She left before she could overthink it.
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime.
She stepped inside.
Pressed the lobby button.
Just as the doors began closing—
A hand stopped them.
Dominic entered.
The space immediately felt smaller.
Too small.
He didn't speak.
Neither did she.
The doors shut.
The descent began.
Forty floors of silence.
Thirty-nine.
Thirty-eight.
She could feel his presence behind her. Close, but not touching.
Thirty-seven—
The lights flickered.
She stiffened slightly.
Thirty-six—
The elevator jolted.
Then stopped.
Complete darkness.
Her breath caught.
A quiet mechanical hum echoed, then silence.
"Don't panic," Dominic said calmly.
"I'm not."
But her voice betrayed her just a little.
Emergency lights flickered on — dim, golden, intimate.
The space was suddenly bathed in low light.
He stepped closer to the panel, pressing the emergency button.
"No signal yet," he muttered.
The proximity was undeniable now.
She could feel the warmth of him behind her.
Too close.
She swallowed.
"It's probably just a temporary outage," she said gently.
"Probably."
He turned slightly.
Now they were facing each other.
Only inches apart.
The elevator was not large enough for this.
Not with the way his eyes darkened when they weren't in public.
Not with the way her pulse betrayed her.
"You were distant today," he said quietly.
"I was working."
"You were avoiding me."
She held his gaze. Soft. Not confrontational.
"I work for you."
"Yes."
His jaw tightened.
"And?"
"And it's better that way."
"For who?" he asked, stepping closer.
Her back met the cool metal wall.
"For you," she whispered.
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
Not touching her.
Just bracing beside her head against the wall.
Caging her in without actually doing it.
"You think I need protection?" His voice dropped.
"No," she said softly. "I think you have too much to lose."
His eyes searched her face.
The silence between them thickened.
"You assume I care about that."
"You should."
"And what do you think I care about?" he asked.
Her breath trembled slightly.
"Control."
A long pause.
Then he leaned in.
Not kissing.
Just close enough that his breath brushed her cheek.
"And you think I have that right now?"
Her hands were trembling now. She hated that he could probably see it.
"Step back," she murmured gently.
"Or?"
Her voice softened even more.
"Or I won't."
That did something to him.
She felt it.
His restraint thinning.
The elevator hummed suddenly.
Lights flickered brighter.
The system rebooting.
Reality returning.
He stepped back instantly.
Composed.
Cold again.
As if the moment hadn't existed.
The elevator resumed its descent.
When the doors finally opened into the lobby, he exited first.
Professional mask fully restored.
But just before walking away, he paused.
Without turning around, he said quietly—
"Don't assume you understand what I can lose."
Then he left.
Aria stood there for a long moment.
Heart racing.
Because she understood something now.
This wasn't just attraction.
It was a line.
And they were standing right on it.
One more push—
And it would snap.