The office was nearly empty by the time Elena gathered her things. Most of the staff had gone home hours ago, leaving only the faint hum of lights and the echo of her own footsteps. She was about to shut down her computer when a voice cut through the silence.
"Miss Carter."
She turned. Alexander stood in the doorway of his office, tie loosened, hair slightly mussed—as if even he had grown weary of maintaining perfection.
"Yes, Mr. Frost?"
"Come inside."
She followed, unsure what to expect. He didn't sit at his desk. Instead, he moved to the floor-to-ceiling window, city lights spilling around him like shards of glass. For a long time, he said nothing.
Elena waited, hands clasped in front of her. She knew better than to fill silence when Alexander Frost had created it.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was lower than usual, rough around the edges. "Do you know what power is, Miss Carter?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "Influence? Control?"
"Control." He echoed the word softly, almost to himself. "Control is everything. Without it… you're vulnerable. Weak. At the mercy of people who will tear you apart."
He turned then, and for the first time since she had met him, his eyes looked… human. Not icy. Not cold. Just tired.
Elena's breath caught. "Is that what Sophia wants? To tear you apart?"
His jaw tightened. "I told you not to concern yourself with things that don't involve you."
"I'm your assistant," she said carefully. "If it affects you, it affects me."
Something flickered across his face, gone before she could name it.
"You're… different." The words slipped out as though he hadn't meant to say them.
Her heart thudded painfully. "Different?"
"You don't flinch. You don't gossip. You don't try to… take." His gaze bore into hers, sharp and searching. "Everyone wants something. But you… I can't figure out what you want."
Heat rose in her cheeks. She opened her mouth, then closed it, because what could she say? That she wanted to understand him? That she wanted to see past the ice?
"I should go," she whispered, breaking the moment before it swallowed her whole.
He didn't stop her. But as she reached the door, his voice followed softly, almost reluctantly.
"Goodnight, Elena."
Not Miss Carter.
Elena's heart tripped over itself.
And when she walked out into the night, she knew something fundamental had shifted. The ice was cracking.