Lena

The first pale light of dawn barely touched the bed as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, careful not to wake him. He was still asleep with his chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm with his hair messy and his lips curved in that infuriating, impossible smirk.

God. That smirk. Calm down, Lena. Just go.

I slipped into my clothes and stepped into my heels. I didn’t bother to take a bath as I scribbled a note on the hotel stationery: Thank you for a wonderful night. Truly. I then folded a crisp $200 bill and left it neatly on the pillow. My fingers lingered too long over the space where he’d been.

The cab ride home was like a slow-motion movie. Every detail of last night kept replaying in my head: his fingers around my clit, his mouth clamped against my nipples , the way he’d taken control, the way my body had completely betrayed me and left me sore.

Three rounds? Four? I lost count. God, he’s dangerous and good in bed.

Finally home, I ran hot water and sank into the bath, letting the steam curl around me. My muscles relaxed, with my mind spinning between disbelief, satisfaction, and that ache that still throbbed between my legs.

After the bath, I dressed carefully. I picked a pencil skirt that hugged my hips and paired it with a crisp ivory blouse with a subtle silk sheen and nude heels. My hair was loosely pinned, with soft waves framing my face. I then reached to swipe a bit of red against my lips.

I looked at myself in the mirror, turning a total three sixty degrees and I looked good. I should not still thinking about last night… but okay, maybe I was, a little bit.

The office lobby buzzed with a great morning energy. I fidgeted with my bag strap, trying not to drift into reckless memory-land. But flashes of last night kept flickering in my head as I remembered him making me melt.

“Morning, Lena,” Susan’s voice cut through my spiral. My friend, co-worker, and the finance team wizard who was capable of saving budgets, preventing disasters, and occasionally saving me from myself. She leaned casually against the wall, her clipboard in hand.

“I have to ask…” she said, “Where’s your ring? It’s hard not to notice that you are not wearing that ridiculous shiny thing.”

I froze. “What?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your engagement ring. You’re not wearing it.”

Of course. My stomach twisted. “He cheated on me, Susan. I went to his apartment yesterday and he was having fun with another woman. I didn’t even bother to listen to his excuse. I walked away and now I’m just realizing why it’s never good to date a man who works in the same company as you.”

Susan’s eyes softened. “And he works in finance. You’re going to have to cope seeing him every day but I guess I’m the one who is going to see him everyday too.”

“I’ll cope,” I said, trying to sound calm. “I’m mailing him the ring today. Hopefully before I run into him. I’d rather dodge the drama completely or maybe he just gets the memo and realize that we are done.”

She smirked, leaning closer. “So full-on ghost him, emotionally and professionally?”

“Exactly. And even if we are going to speak to each other, every interaction will be work-only. Nothing personal at all.”

Susan laughed softly. “Good. Because otherwise, I’d have popcorn ready to watch you lose your mind.”

I rolled my eyes, smirking. “Thanks, Susan. You are always supportive.”

She leaned closer. “Also… tiny reminder. The new CEO is arriving today. Totally slipped your mind, huh?”

Oh God. My pulse hit my throat.

“I… yeah. Totally forgot,” I said, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from my skirt. “Thanks for the reminder. It’s so embarrassing that I’m his personal assistant and I totally forgot about him.”

Susan nudged me, her eyes sparkling. “You are going to be working with him and Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to melt if he’s ridiculously attractive.”

Ha. Funny. Very helpful.

I then reapplied my lipstick, pinned a stray wave of hair behind my ear, squared my shoulders as I followed Susan to the elevator hallways where a bunch of people were beginning to gather and form a tiny crowd.

I braced myself as the elevator doors slid open and bent my head.

He stepped out with the most tantalizing perfume that grazed my nostrils and I could see his shoes looked good and expensive.

I then lifted my head and forced a polite, professional smile.

“Good morning, sir,” I said, my voice steady, clipped, formal.

His gaze swept the room, lingering on me just long enough to make my pulse spike. That smirk, it was cocky and maddeningly familiar. It also made my knees weak.

Why does that look feel so familiar?

Susan leaned closer, whispering just enough for me to hear: “Snap out of it and smile.”

I nodded, holding my hands behind my back.

He paused, letting the silence stretch and then his voice came, it was so deep, smooth and magnetic:

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Lucas Reed, the new CEO.”

The room seemed to shrink around him, every eye magnetized to his presence. He paused, letting the weight of his entrance settle, letting the staff feel the gravity radiating from him. And then… he looked at me. Again.

My head tilted almost instinctively, his voice still ringing in my skull from last night. My hands shot to my mouth, clamping over it as if I could swallow the realization whole.

Oh God. It’s him.

I forced a polite smile onto my lips, heart hammering, cheeks burning, my pulse threatening to betray me. Nodding slowly, I tried to anchor myself—but my brain had completely checked out.

I had a one-night stand with the freaking CEO.

Lucas

My name is Lucas Reed and that’s exactly the name.

The name people obeyed, feared, or whispered behind closed doors. It was mine. A name that carried weight, power and, right now, a serious headache.

Because history has a way of sticking to you.

My stepbrother had been CEO before me. Brandon Reed. He was brilliant, charismatic… and just had to be utterly destroyed by his own demons. He was into drugs and fraud. He had scandals that still lingered in the corners of this building. He had left a mess bigger than most people realized. I had inherited not just the throne, but a kingdom of chaos.

And I was supposed to step into it gracefully.

I stepped off the elevator, expecting the ritual: the staff lined up, polite smiles, admiration dripping from every corner. Everything staged to remind them who ran this place.

And then I saw her when I stepped out of elevator

Her hair was pinned neatly, a few rebellious strands brushing her cheek and she looked up.

She casted a glance at me and my chest tightened.

Her face.

It looks so familiar. My mind tried to place it. I frowned. Who the hell is that?

Her eyes met mine, sharp, clear and unflinching. Then, as if she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me, she walked away.

Focus, Lucas. Fucking focus.

My eyes followed her down the hall, trying not to replay her facetoo many times. The tilt of her head, the way she carried herself with precision yet ease… everything else in the lobby blurred. I shook my head.

By the time I reached my office, the door clicked shut behind me. I removed my jacket and slumped on my chair Everything was in place except my brain, which refused to leave her behind.

I needed answers.

The staff list sat neatly on my desk. It had pictures, names, titles. emails. It was standard procedure for someone taking over Altura Group. Everything was in its place except the sinking feeling that I was already screwed.

I flipped through the photos, scanning casually and then I froze.

Her face was staring back at me.

Lena Hart. Personal Assistant to the CEO. My PA.

I dropped the list and then threw my head back and laughed. I recognized her. Even to me, it sounded a little insane. Of course. Of course this had to happen.

The woman I’d fucked with last night, the one who left $200 on the pillow for a reason that still amused me and the woman who was the best sex of my entire life, was now going to be part of my life, professionally.

I leaned forward, tracing her photo.

I ran a hand through my hair. Altura Group, fucking deadlines, decisions, my father’s expectations and Brandon’s mess. It was all meaningless compared to the problem standing one floor down in heels.

I laughed again, darker this time. I was fucked.

Flashes of last night hit me: the club, neon lights cutting through smoke, the bass rattling my chest. I had gone there to drink myself into oblivion, my mother’s death anniversary and, as usual, my family hadn’t remembered or cared.

And then I saw her.

She didn’t belong there. Not in a million years.Her outfit was all shades of wrong for a club, her hair pinned like she was heading to a meeting and heels that looked like they were designed to stab the floor rather than dance on it. Honestly, I wondered why the bouncer had let her in, maybe he had a death wish, or maybe the universe just had a really twisted sense of humor.

And yet… she caught my goddamn eyes.

A knock came at the door, polite but insistent.

“Come in,” I responded.

A knock came at the door, polite but insistent.

“Come in,” I said, keeping my voice smooth, calm, and CEO-perfect.

The door opened.

And there she was, like a perfectly wrapped disaster I couldn’t look away from.

Lena Hart.

She stopped for a fraction of a second, eyes flicking down, then back up, perfectly composed, professional. Every instinct screamed at me to act like a CEO, but my brain sort of freaked out the moment I saw her.

Her lips were full and soft, flashed through my mind, pressed against mine just nine hours ago, daring me to throw every rule of decorum out the window.

Her chest, her breasts that I had studied far too thoroughly for someone with a supposedly functioning brain. For a heartbeat, I forgot she was my PA. I forgot everything except that she existed, and that she looked like a problem I very much wanted to solve in every possible way.

“Mr. Reed,” she said carefully but her hands twisted slightly in her lap, betraying the slightest tremor.

I gestured toward the chair. “Please… sit.”

She lowered herself gracefully, her knees together, and hands folding neatly on her lap and yet… a quiver in her fingers, the tiniest hitch in her breath, made my pulse spike. I may or may not have grinned like an idiot.

“Lena Hart sir. I’m your personal assistant,” she added, finally giving her full name.

I leaned back in my chair, letting the mask settle. There was no need to jump the gun or make her feel awkward.

“We’ll be working closely together,” I said, extending my hand. “I expect great things from you.”

Her hand met mine, it was warm, firm, slightly tense. I let it linger just long enough to make her notice the heat in my palm.

“We will,” she said softly.

I tilted my head, smirk tugging at my lips. “Good. I have no doubt.”

Her eyes flicked up at me, just for a second, hesitation swimming in them.

“You… seem familiar,” I said, letting my voice thread with amusement.

Her eyes widened and then bit the corner of her lip, a small, nervous gesture that made me want to lean across the desk and see if she’d really do it again.

“I—I don’t… I don’t think so, sir,” she stammered.

“No?” I said, letting my smirk deepen. “You look like someone I remember.”

“Sir, I don’t think I….”

“I’m kidding,” I quipped in,“I guess my sense of humor is bad.”

She didn’t dignify yhat witu a response so I continued.

“You’re unusually composed,” I said, pacing slowly behind the desk, letting the tension build. “Most people wouldn’t hold themselves together this well… not in front of me.”

Her gaze lifted. “I… I like to maintain professional boundaries,” she said.

I couldn’t help it, I smirked. “Good. That will serve you well. Especially with me.”

I leaned slightly closer, letting the tension hang between us. “We’re going to make a great team, Lena. You’ll see… sooner than you think.”

Her lips parted, a faint flush creeping up her neck, her eyes flickering with hesitation. “I—I… I’ll do my best, sir.”

I watched as she stood up to leave and bowed before turning around, I let my gaze drift, it wasn’t not crude, not obvious but deliberate down the curve of her back, the sway of her hips. Her ass was … completely, ridiculously, impossibly irresistible.

Last night’s memory hit me in full force, her fingers brushing mine, her hands tracing circles on my chest, the way she had moved, trembled. My chest tightened. My brain tried to remind me I was in control. But right now? I was hopelessly, gloriously, absurdly down bad for Lena Hart. And the best part?

I realized I wouldn’t be able to forget about that ass or her…for a single damn second.

Lena

Thank goodness he doesn’t know who I am.

I muttered it under my breath as I tried to focus on the stack of files in front of me. My hands gripped the papers a little too tightly, my pulse skipping every time the thought of Lucas Reed crossed my mind. God. Last night had been a complete disaster for my composure, and yet a complete disaster I couldn’t stop replaying.

Focus, Lena. Files. Numbers. Emails. Not him.

I tried to force my eyes on the spreadsheets, reading and rereading line after line of marketing projections and client feedback, but the words blurred together. I should have been thinking about budgets, but instead I was thinking about the tilt of his head, the smirk that had made my knees weak, the way he had leaned close and spoken in that smooth voice and his fucking dick.

No. Stop it. He’s the CEO. I’m the PA. Keep it professional. Keep your head in the game.

Which was apparently impossible, because every time I shifted in my chair, every time a shadow passed the window, my heart jumped like he might be standing there, watching, waiting for me to slip up.

By the time lunch rolled around, I felt like I had survived a war since he didn’t come out of his office. My stomach growled, reminding me that survival required food, even if my brain was still a tangled mess of last night and Lucas Reed. I grabbed my bag and headed for the cafeteria, sitting at a quiet corner where I could eat in peace and maybe pretend no one existed outside the stack of files I had stuffed in my bag earlier.

And then I froze.

“Lena.”

My stomach sank. Of course. Ethan. My fiancé or should I say, ex, depending on how honest I wanted to be and the man who had somehow managed to waste three years of my life.

I paused, taking a breath I didn’t quite feel. He was smiling like everything was fine, like nothing had happened, like he didn’t owe me a single explanation.

“Lena, can we talk?” he asked, stepping closer as he sat down opposite me with that same self-satisfied expression plastered on his face.

“No,” I said firmly, planting my feet. “We cannot talk.”

He raised a brow, clearly expecting me to melt at his charm. “I called you last night. You didn’t answer.”

“That was it?” I asked, voice low but sharp. “One phone call and you think that fixes everything?”

“I… Lena, you don’t understand. I was…drunk. I—”

“Don’t.” I cut him off, louder this time. “I understand perfectly. You were drunk. Next time, try honesty while sober. Might work better than excuses.”

He opened his mouth again, and I shook my head. “Save it, Ethan. We are done. Whatever engagement, whatever future you thought you had with me, it’s over and to make it easy on you, I’ll even mail your ring back. You can pawn it off for all I care.”

His jaw tightened. “My mom… she’s expecting you this weekend. You can’t just—”

I laughed, bitterly. “Expecting me? That’s cute. Maybe the woman you slept with can fill that spot just fine. She’s probably more reliable than I ever was. Congratulations, Ethan. Truly.”

“Stop being childish,” he snapped, taking a step closer, voice dropping into that condescending tone he always used when he thought he was being reasonable. “We’ve been together for three years. Three. Do you have any idea how much time I invested in you? And you’re really going to throw it all away over one mistake?”

“Yes,” I said, calmly now. “Because you’re not worth my future. You never were. I just finally see it.”

His smile twitched, confidence cracking for half a second before he recovered. He always did. “You’re being emotional, Lena. That’s the problem. You never think things through. You were never really there for me. You were always busy, working late, running after your dreams, choosing everyone and everything else over us.”

I laughed. “Oh, this again.”

“You don’t have to get defensive,” he continued, warming to his speech. “I just needed more from you. Is that so wrong? A girlfriend should prioritize her relationship. You made me feel lonely, Lena. You pushed me into this.”

That did it.

“Oh, really?” I cut in, fire climbing straight up my spine. “So let me get this straight. I prioritize my career and my dreams. You work in the same company as me, climbing up the ladder and because you feel lonely, your solution was to cheat, then stand here and tell me it’s my fault?”

“I said mistake,” he corrected sharply. “Why do you keep exaggerating everything? Normal couples work through things like this.”

“No,” I said. “Selfish men expect women to swallow them.”

His face hardened. “You’re overreacting. This is exactly what I mean. You always make things dramatic.”

I picked up my water bottle from the table, my hand steady despite the shaking in my chest. “No,” I said quietly. “I’m finally reacting appropriately.”

Before he could speak, I tipped the bottle and poured it straight into his face.

Cold water drenched his hair, soaked his shirt, splashed onto the floor between us. He stumbled back, sputtering, his eyes wide with shock.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted.

“Done,” I said, louder now, my voice echoing through the empty cafeteria. “I’m done shrinking myself so you can feel important. I’m done apologizing for having a life. I’m done enduring your sulking, your entitlement, your belief that loving you meant erasing myself.”

He stared at me like I’d committed a crime.

“You really think you’ll do better than me?” he scoffed, wiping his face. “After everything I put into you?”

I slung my bag over my shoulder and stood. “That right there? That’s why I already have.”

I met his eyes. “Goodbye, Ethan. It’s over. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t show up pretending you deserve access to me ever again.”

Then I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, wet, furious, and finally irrelevant. He was still here, clinging to the last scraps of his pride but I didn’t look back. I was done giving him even that.

By the time I reached my office, my hands had stopped shaking.

I closed the door, locked it, and leaned back against it for a brief second, just to let the finality of it settle in my chest.

Then I pulled out my phone.

I opened the food app, scrolled past the things I usually ordered for him and I, and chose what I wanted. Extra sides. A drink, dessert. I added it all without hesitation and hit order.

The confirmation popped up.

Good.

I walked to my desk, set my bag down, and sat in my chair, staring out the window as everything moved on like nothing monumental had just happened. My life didn’t pause. The world didn’t collapse.

And for the first time in a long while, neither did I.

I was free. And I was hungry.

After a few hours, I buried myself in work, forcing my mind to focus. I attacked it with the ferocity of someone who had just survived a personal apocalypse. Lucas Reed never stepped out, and for that, I was quietly grateful.

By the time the clock neared quitting time, I felt like I might actually survive the day. I zipped my bag, straightened my blouse, and headed for the exit, reminding myself to breathe, to keep control.

As I crossed into the underground parking lot, the sound of a horn cut through the air.

I froze mid-step.

Please don’t be…..

I turned.

Lucas Reed.

Of course it was him.

When did he even leave his office? He hadn’t moved an inch from his office the last time I saw him in the morning. Had he left while I went to grab coffee? Or when I went back for my bag? Had he been timing me?

My stomach dropped so hard I was pretty sure it hit the concrete.

He was already stepping out of his car, dressed in that sharp black suit like he’d personally declared war on my nervous system. He shut the door with an easy motion and leaned against the car, relaxed, entirely too attractive for a man who was currently ruining my peace.

“I can give you a ride home,” he said, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

My brain immediately shut down.

A ride. Home. Alone. In a car. With him.

Absolutely not.

I turned my head slowly, schooling my face into something calm, something adult, something. “That’s not necessary,” I said, my voice clipped.

He didn’t move. He merely smiled.

“It’s just a gesture,” he said. “Since… we’re working together.”

Oh God. The pause. The emphasis. The way his eyes flicked over my face like he was trying to read something written between the lines.

No. Nope. This was dangerous territory.

My heart started racing. My palms went damp around my bag strap. I could not let this become a conversation. I could not let him remember last night. Or worse….let me remember it.

My mouth moved before my brain could catch up.

“I’m—” I started, then stopped, then rushed it out in one breath, “I’m married.”

The word hung there. It was loud, heavy and a little unhinged.

His expression shifted, not dramatically, just enough. His brows lifted slightly, surprise flashing across his face before he masked it.

“Oh,” he said.

Just that. There are no follow up or an awkward response.

He straightened, nodded once like he’d just received new information in a meeting, and turned back toward his car.

“Oh,” he repeated, quieter this time.

He slid into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and the engine purred to life. Then he drove off, smooth and unbothered, disappearing up the ramp like he hadn’t just detonated my entire nervous system.

I stood there, rooted to the spot.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure someone could hear it. My legs felt weak, like they’d forgotten their job description. I tightened my grip on my bag, breathing out slowly, like it might float me back into reality.

I let out a breath that sounded more like a laugh and dragged a hand down my face.

“Oh shit,” I muttered. “What the hell did I just say?”