Elina Lane never believed in fairy tales, but something about that night lingered in her bones like an unfinished song. The scent of cabernet, the low hum of Aidan's voice, the touch of his fingers on her jaw—it all played in her mind as she stepped out of her brownstone the next morning.
New York was overcast, the kind of gray that seeped into your mood. She wrapped her coat tighter around her, heels clicking along the pavement with every determined stride. Her mind was supposed to be focused on the presentation she had at 10 a.m. for a potential international investor.
Instead, it was still back at the restaurant—with him.
She shook her head. No. This was the danger she always warned herself about—letting someone in, letting feelings root. They grew like vines, wrapping around your focus, stealing the oxygen from your ambition. She wasn't going to fall into that.
Not again.
The building that housed Lane Innovations loomed ahead, sleek and modern, its mirrored exterior a perfect contrast to the storm cloud inside her. As she entered the elevator, she caught her reflection. Cool. Composed. Impeccable.
Liar, she thought to herself.
---
Her assistant, Nadine, met her at the office door, tablet in hand. "Investor team is early. They're in the boardroom already. And—" she hesitated, "Mr. Knight sent flowers."
Elina arched an eyebrow. "Flowers?"
Nadine nodded toward Elina's desk. A stunning bouquet of white orchids, nestled in a glass vase, sat there like a quiet declaration.
There was no card.
Of course not. Aidan wasn't the kind of man who needed to sign his gestures. They spoke for themselves.
"Send them to the lounge," Elina said coolly. "And tell catering to have espresso ready in the boardroom. We start in ten."
Nadine nodded and disappeared down the hall.
Elina let her fingers brush the petals once—soft, cold, beautiful.
Then she turned on her heel and walked into the boardroom, face carved from stone.
---
The meeting was a dance of numbers and persuasion. The French investors were polite but sharp, their questions cutting to the bone. Elina answered each with precision, voice calm, eyes bright with challenge. She was in her element—until the boardroom door opened mid-discussion.
Aidan.
He stepped in like he belonged there. Which, legally, he now did. His recent purchase of a significant share in Lane Innovations granted him board privileges. But he hadn't had to come.
And yet, here he was, in another devastatingly perfect suit, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
Elina didn't miss a beat. "Mr. Knight," she said smoothly. "Thank you for joining us."
The investors murmured among themselves, intrigued by his presence.
Aidan gave a respectful nod to the room. "I wouldn't miss watching brilliance in action."
A few of them chuckled. Elina didn't.
---
After the meeting, once the investors had left and the room was empty, Elina shut the door behind them and turned to him.
"What was that?" she asked, voice low but sharp.
He shrugged. "I came to support you."
"I don't need support."
"You don't want it," he corrected. "That's different."
She crossed her arms. "You can't keep showing up like this. My company isn't a playground."
Aidan stepped closer. "No, it's not. But I'm not playing. You said last night you weren't pretending anymore. Neither am I."
His voice was softer now, almost pleading. "You're brilliant, Elina. But you don't have to carry everything alone."
She stared at him, words tangled in her throat. He always knew how to walk that line—between support and intrusion, affection and control.
"I have a system," she said finally.
"I know. I'm not here to break it. Just… maybe stand beside it."
A beat of silence passed. Her phone buzzed in her hand. Saved by the bell.
"We're not finished," she said, turning to leave.
"I know," he replied, and the weight of his gaze stayed with her long after she'd gone.
The wind picked up as they walked farther, brushing Elina's hair across her face. She didn't bother fixing it—Aidan seemed to like her real, unguarded. That, in itself, was terrifying.
"Can I ask you something?" she said, keeping her eyes ahead.
"Anything."
"If I wasn't the CEO of Lane Corp, would you still be this interested?"
He paused for a beat. "Yes. But I wouldn't have met you."
That answer was honest. Too honest. It settled between them like a stone dropped into still water.
Elina stopped walking and faced him. "Do you ever get tired of all this?"
"All what?"
"The suits. The meetings. The power plays."
Aidan chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Every damn day."
"Then why keep doing it?"
"Because quitting would mean giving up everything I've built. And I'm not sure I know who I am without all this."
Her gaze softened. "You sound lost."
He stepped closer. "Only when I'm not near you."
She should've pulled back. Should've deflected. But the truth was, her own defenses were crumbling.
"Let's make a deal," she said.
"I'm listening."
"You stop pretending you're invincible, and I'll stop pretending I don't care."
Aidan's smile was slow and devastating. "That might be the most dangerous deal I've ever made."
"But worth it?"
He didn't hesitate. "Definitely."
Their eyes locked—heat crackling between them like electricity. And for a split second, Elina thought he might kiss her.
But he didn't.
He just touched her hand, a simple brush of fingers, and somehow that was more intimate than any kiss.
---
Later that night, back in her penthouse, Elina stood barefoot by her window, looking out at the city lights.
Aidan Knight was dangerous.
But not because he was powerful.
Because he saw her—not the CEO, not the empire, not the headlines. Just Elina.
And she didn't know if she was ready to be seen.
Her phone buzzed. A message.
Aidan: "Thank you for tonight. You were more than I hoped for."
She didn't reply.
Instead, she turned off the screen and stood in the silence of her apartment, trying to calm the storm he'd stirred inside her.