Then… nothing.
Had I started something?
Had he?
How did I end up here?
And what had we done?
I pressed my hands to my face.
I was finished.
My career—gone.
My dignity—gone.
But I still had one option.
Pretend.
Act like an adult. Like this could be handled.
So I walked back out.
Adrian was pouring coffee like he hadn’t just destroyed my entire sense of reality.
I swallowed hard.
“Sir… I think it would be best if we just… pretend nothing happened.”
My voice shook.
“I won’t make this a problem.”
For the first time, his expression changed.
He turned toward me fully.
And what I saw wasn’t relief.
It wasn’t indifference.
It was something sharper. Almost… hurt.
He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed my wrist, and said quietly:
“What do you mean, nothing happened?”
I froze.
He didn’t let go.
“After last night,” he continued, his voice low, “you’re just going to walk away from your responsibility to me?”
Responsibility.
I stared at him, stunned.
Because suddenly this didn’t feel like a mistake.
It felt like something more.
—
Everything that followed unraveled faster than I could process.
My room had been broken into.
Nothing stolen—just searched.
I hadn’t gone to his suite by accident.
I had gone because I was scared.