The atmosphere around the Volkov executive office had shifted — subtly, but noticeably.
Xander had been unusually quiet all morning. He was present, yes, but not there. His responses were shorter, his footsteps heavier, his eyes distant, like his thoughts were still lingering in the echo of what happened the night before. Cassian noticed it almost immediately. The way Xander stared out the window too long. The way his fingers drummed slower than usual. Something had changed — and Cassian had known Xander long enough to know it had to do with her.
Erin.
During the debrief, when one of the agents reported back with updates, Xander only nodded. No questions. No sharp interjections. No usual cold assessments. He just sat there, jaw tight, eyes distant.
When the others left the room, Cassian lingered behind. "You good?"
Xander didn't answer immediately. He glanced at the file in his hand, but he hadn't turned a page in the last five minutes.
Cassian studied him, then smirked faintly. "Must be serious. Whatever it is."
Xander finally looked up. "Focus on your job, Cassian."
That was the end of it.
But Cassian left the room muttering something about how "quiet Xander is worse than angry Xander."
But Xander didn't say a word.
⸻
Upstairs in her room, Erin was having her own battle with silence.
She sat at the edge of her bed, a towel wrapped around her head, fingers curled around a steaming cup of tea she hadn't even touched. Her eyes were distant, haunted by a hundred questions she didn't know how to answer.
Why am I panicking?
She'd kissed him. Or maybe… he had kissed her. Again. But again, she hadn't pulled away. Not immediately. In fact, she'd responded with everything she had, like she was caught in a current too strong to fight.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
She took a sip of the now-lukewarm tea, and it did nothing to stop the flurry in her chest.
Maybe she was just overwhelmed. The presentation. The sabotage. The kiss. The way he had looked at her — not like a boss, not like someone she was using. Like she mattered.
She hated how it made her feel.
"I need to focus," she murmured to herself, pressing the cup tighter against her lips. "He is obviously focused. He's still at the office at this hour. And he'll probably be in his study when he comes back. I need to do same. Focus."
Focus on the reason she was here. On the Volkovs. On what they had done to her family. On what she had promised to uncover.
Not on a man with dark eyes and a complicated past.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
This was why she needed the 10-day deal. She couldn't afford to slip. Not emotionally. Not strategically.
Because if she let her guard down now… she wouldn't be able to walk away when it counted.
⸻
Downstairs, Cassian walked up to Xander with a quiet stare.
"It's past office time."
"It's always office time when there's work to do."
"You've been out of it all day," he muttered.
"I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
Cassian wasn't buying it, but he didn't press. Not now.
⸻
Erin left as soon as she prepared breakfast. She didn't linger in the halls. At work, she kept her distance too — polite but distant. Xander noticed every beat of it. Every avoidance. Every moment she walked the other way when their eyes almost met.
He didn't chase her.
Not yet.
But something in him stirred — a need to understand why she was so afraid to look at him now… when just yesterday, she had clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.
⸻
That night, Erin lay in bed, watching the ceiling instead of sleeping. The kiss replayed over and over again in her mind like a cruel loop.
The sound of her heart pounding. The heat of his hands. The feeling of being wanted — really wanted — and not just for manipulation or power or revenge.
"I'm not falling for him," she whispered to the dark.
Because if she admitted that she was…
Then she'd have to admit how hard it'll be to fulfill her mission. And that wasn't an option.
The next day passed in an uncomfortable silence — until Xander cornered her again.
It was near the library. She had gone in looking for one of his files, thinking he wouldn't be around. But as she turned to leave, he was already at the door, leaning against the frame.
"Still running?" he asked, tone light.
She folded her arms. "I'm not running."
"Could've fooled me. Why are you here anyways?"
He walked closer, slowly, and Erin stiffened. Not in fear — in anticipation.
"You've been avoiding me since that… incident," he said.
"You're the one who made that ridiculous 10-day deal," she retorted. "I'm just… respecting the boundaries."
"Respecting the boundaries," he repeated with a dry chuckle. "Is that what you call it?"
She narrowed her eyes. "What would you call it?"
"Cowardice."
Her lips parted. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." He stepped closer, invading her space without shame. "You agreed to 10 days. That wasn't a rule to stay away. It was a test of whether we could handle this. But instead of acting normal, you're hiding."
"Oh, so now it's my fault?"
"You're the one who panicked after kissing me."
She opened her mouth, but he didn't let her interrupt.
"I said we wouldn't be intimate until the 10 days were up — not that we should pretend like it didn't happen. Not that you should act like I'm the plague."
Her fists clenched at her sides. "You think I'm scared of you?"
"I think," he said, lowering his voice, "that you're scared of how much you want this."
She refused to show how accurate that was. "That's funny, coming from you. You're the one who's always so composed. Cold. Detached."
"Exactly," he said. "And somehow, you cracked that."
She blinked.
He leaned in, his breath grazing her cheek. "So here's a new deal," he murmured. "If you're really not afraid of me, then for these 10 days — don't stay away."
The words hit her harder than she expected. Her breath caught.
"Think you can handle that?" he asked.
She stared at him for a long moment, trying to read him. Trying to see if this was a trap. A manipulation. But all she saw in his eyes was honesty.
Challenge.
And something else she couldn't name.
"Fine," she said. "Let's see who cracks first."