When they pulled up to the office building, Arianna Stone reached for the door handle, her movements hurried.

Maxwell King caught her wrist, his grip firm but careful. "Wait. There’s something I need to say."

"What is it?"

He didn't speak immediately. In the front seat, the driver cleared his throat—a man who had survived years in the service of the powerful, he knew exactly when to become invisible. "Mr. King, I’m just going to pop into the shop for some water. Is there anything you or Mrs. King would like?"

Maxwell’s gaze shifted to Arianna. "Arianna, what do you want?"

The transition in his tone was seamless, shifting from the formal "Mrs. King" to her first name with a casual, intimate ease that made her chest tighten.

"Nothing for me, thank you," Arianna said with a polite, stiff smile.

The driver nodded toward the rearview mirror. "And you, Mr. King?"

"I’m fine. Just buy yourself something. And take your time."

The driver, seasoned and sharp, understood the subtext immediately. He knew he wouldn't be returning to the car until he received a direct order, even if he had to wander the aisles for an hour.

Once the door clicked shut, the sound of the city vanished. The internal partition rose with a soft, mechanical hum, sealing them into a private, pressurized bubble. The tinted windows ensured the outside world was just a blur of passing shadows.

Arianna held her breath, the space feeling suddenly, suffocatingly small. She forced a laugh, trying to project a confidence she didn't feel. "So? What did you want to talk about?"

Maxwell turned to her, his expression uncharacteristically earnest. "I want to formally apologize. For yesterday. I promise it won't happen again. I won't get that drunk again, and I certainly won't make you play nursemaid. I’m sorry for the trouble."

Arianna blinked, caught off guard by his return to the topic. "It’s… it’s fine, really. I didn't mind."

"Arianna." He used her name, low and deliberate.

"Yes?"

A glint of something dangerous flickered in his eyes, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "Have you thought about... taking us to the next step?"

She faltered. "The next step?"

"Yes. Like what happened last night. The kiss."

Arianna felt her face catch fire. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs like a trapped bird.

"We... we already did that," she stammered, the words tumbling out before she could check them.

*Oh god, why did I say that?*

Maxwell’s smile deepened, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "I meant for the future. When you’re sober."

The audacity of it made her want to crawl into the floorboards. She looked toward the window, closing her eyes for a brief, desperate moment. "I... I need to think about it."

"Take your time," Maxwell said, his voice maddeningly gentle. "There’s no rush. Just let me know when you've reached a decision."

"Right. I’m going to be late."

She didn't wait for him to reply. She pushed open the door and practically fled toward the office entrance, her heels clicking a frantic rhythm on the pavement. She kept her eyes fixed forward, refusing to look back, though she could feel the heat radiating from her own burning ears.

Maxwell watched her go, a quiet, possessive spark in his gaze. To him, she was like a solitary bloom in the dead of winter—the only thing worth looking at.

***

During the morning meeting, Miranda Green announced that the company would be sending a team to another city to audit their suppliers. They needed to review new projects, inspect the supply chain, ensure standards were met, and determine if the collaboration was still worth their investment.

As the team lead, Miranda held the list of names in her hand. "I’ve uploaded the list to the office Slack. Everyone, take a look."

Arianna stared at her screen, scrolling past the department heads and senior veterans, assuming she wouldn't see her own name. Then, she stopped. There it was: *Arianna Stone.*

Before she could process it, Diana James bumped her shoulder, whispering in a frantic, excited hum. "Arianna! Look! Your name is there! Oh my god!"

Miranda cast a single, icy glance toward them. Diana immediately turned into a statue, shrinking into her chair. When the manager’s attention finally shifted, Diana leaned back in, her voice barely a breath. "Girl, you’re a legend. You’re the only junior staffer in our department to make the cut. You’re absolutely killing it!"

Arianna offered a modest smile, still struggling to believe it. "I’m honestly surprised."

"Don't be," Diana said. "I’ve seen how much overtime you put in. I could never do that. I’m more of a 'live, laugh, love' kind of girl—life is too short to work myself into an early grave."

Arianna laughed, the tension in her chest easing.

Miranda sat in her office chair, watching the scene with a sharp, calculating gaze. She cleared her throat, her voice cutting through the room with surgical precision. "If there are no objections to the list, we’ll move forward. For those selected, I’ll arrange coverage for your current tasks. Tell your families, and be ready to travel."

Miranda stood up, her posture rigid, her presence commanding enough to drain the air from the room. She turned and swept out in her heels.

Arianna spent the rest of the morning in a daze, though it was a pleasant one. The chance to work alongside the senior partners was an opportunity she couldn't afford to pass up.

That afternoon, she headed to Miranda’s office with a stack of files. As she approached the door, she heard voices drifting through the crack.

"Miranda, why exactly did you put Arianna on the list?"