The office was quiet now, eerily quiet. Most of the staff had gone home hours ago, leaving only the faint hum of computers and the occasional clack of Ava's keyboard to break the silence. She told herself it was purely professional—a last push to finish her reports before leaving. But deep down, she knew the truth.
It was because he was here.
Adrian Black had lingered in the office long after the meeting ended. He had walked past her desk multiple times, each step deliberate, each glance loaded. Ava's heart had refused to settle since the morning. Every muscle in her body felt wound tight, like a bowstring about to snap.
She tried to focus. Numbers, charts, emails… anything to drown out the overwhelming pull he had over her. But as soon as she looked up, there he was—leaning against the glass wall of the conference room, arms crossed, watching her with a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"You've been avoiding me all day," he said, voice smooth, teasing, and impossibly irritating.
"I have deadlines," she replied, head bent over her papers. Her hands shook slightly, betraying her attempt at control.
He stepped closer, slow, calculated, his presence growing more oppressive with every inch. "Deadlines," he repeated, his voice dropping low, intimate. "Or maybe… avoiding confrontation."
Ava's heart skipped. She didn't look up, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from answering honestly—and honesty had a tendency to get her into trouble with Adrian.
"You're imagining things," she muttered, fingers tapping nervously against her desk.
"I'm imagining nothing," he said, leaning against the edge of her desk. His gray eyes captured hers, sharp, unrelenting, magnetic. "You think you've changed… that you can resist me now. But the moment you're alone with me, all of that pretension falls apart, doesn't it?"
Ava's pulse quickened. She tried to swallow the rising heat, but it refused to be contained. Her chest felt tight, her stomach a whirl of nerves and desire.
"I… I'm not that person anymore," she whispered.
"Are you sure?" His lips curved into a teasing, dangerous smile. "Because I remember exactly how that person reacts… when she's cornered."
Before she could respond, he was right there, close enough that she could feel the faint brush of his sleeve against her arm, the warmth radiating off him like an intoxicating force field. Her knees nearly buckled.
"Adrian—" she started, but her voice faltered.
"You still fight me," he murmured, lowering his voice, letting the words wrap around her like silk. "Still stubborn. Still furious. Still… impossibly tempting."
Her fingers clenched the edge of the desk. She wanted to shove him away, to scream, to escape. Yet every instinct in her body betrayed her. Every nerve ending screamed to lean in, to give in, to let the tension snap into something more.
He leaned closer, just enough that his lips brushed the edge of her jaw. Her breath caught sharply. He smelled like him—sharp, intoxicating, impossible to forget. The air between them thickened, charged with desire and unresolved history.
"You're infuriating," she hissed, trying to pull back.
"And you…" His voice dropped lower, slow, teasing, sensual. "…are exactly where I want you."
Ava's pulse raced, her hands shaking despite her attempt to remain professional. Her body was betraying her in ways she wasn't ready to admit. She could feel the heat pooling low in her stomach, a mixture of anticipation, frustration, and something deeper—something dangerous.
"Adrian…" she whispered, voice trembling.
"Yes?" His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, gray eyes locked on hers with a magnetic intensity that made everything else fade.
"I—I can't—"
He didn't give her a chance to finish. In one swift movement, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss. It was quick, testing, teasing—but fierce, igniting a fire that she hadn't felt in years. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her rational mind screamed to push him away. But another part of her—the part she had denied for so long—melted into the heat of the moment.
The kiss broke almost as soon as it started, leaving them both panting, faces inches apart. His gray eyes gleamed with triumph, amusement, and something darker—possessive, demanding, infuriatingly intimate.
"You see?" he murmured, voice low and thick with satisfaction. "You can't stay away from me."
Her cheeks burned, a mixture of embarrassment, frustration, and undeniable desire. She wanted to run. She wanted to yell. She wanted to… kiss him again.
But the moment was shattered by the harsh beep of a text alert. She seized her phone like a lifeline, using it as an excuse to break the proximity, to step back, to regain a fraction of her composure.
Adrian watched her, smirk widening, eyes glittering with victory. "You'll be back," he said softly, almost to himself.
Ava didn't reply. She didn't need to. She already knew the truth.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she fought, she was caught in his orbit. She was entangled in something far beyond professionalism, far beyond reason, and far beyond control.
And Adrian Black… had claimed her first crack.