Rhea POV

I didn't plan to stop by Ethan's office today.

But when your boyfriend has been canceling dinners for "late meetings" three nights in a row, you start to wonder what's keeping him so damn busy.

So here I am. In a fitted black dress, heels clicking across the marble lobby, trying to look calm while my stomach twists.

The receptionist greets me with that fake bright smile. "Good morning, Ms. Bennett."

"Morning," I say, smiling back. "Is Ethan in?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Holt's in his office."

Of course he is.

I head straight for the elevator, checking my reflection in the glass doors. My makeup's perfect, lipstick still fresh, hair curled just right. No reason to look like the jealous girlfriend. Not yet.

The elevator dings open, and I walk out onto his floor. I know this place by heart, the glass walls, the quiet hum of printers, the smell of coffee and too much cologne.

But when I reach his office, I stop.

Because sitting at the little desk outside his door is someone I've never seen before.

She's young. Early twenties, maybe. Pretty in that clean, soft way that doesn't even try. Light makeup, glossy lips, and that nervous focus new employees have when they're trying too hard to be perfect.

I glance at the nameplate. Lina Hayes.

Cute name.

"Hi," I say, smiling. "You must be new."

She looks up, startled, and her eyes widen just a little. "Oh! Hi. Yes, I am."

Her voice is sweet. A little unsure.

I lean against the edge of her desk. "What's your position here?"

"I'm Mr. Holt's new Secretary," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Of course she is.

I keep my smile steady. "Secretary. That's nice. How's your first week going?"

"It's... good," she says, nodding quickly. "He's very professional. Keeps things organized."

I almost laugh. Professional, huh?

Ethan can be professional when he wants to be, but I know the man behind the title, the one who gets possessive, controlling, sharp. The one who doesn't like surprises, except when he's the one making them.

And right now, the idea of him spending all day with this new assistant? Yeah, that's a surprise I don't like.

"Well, I'm glad it's going smoothly," I say. "I'm Rhea, by the way."

Her face lights up like she recognizes the name. "Oh, you're... his girlfriend?"

I smile, but it feels tight. "That's me."

"Oh," she says softly. "It's nice to meet you, Rhea."

"Nice to meet you too, Lina."

We stare at each other for a second. She seems genuine. Sweet. Probably too sweet for this kind of office. The kind of girl who thinks hard work and good manners get you far. The kind who doesn't realize men like Ethan notice everything, especially the things you don't mean to show.

"So," I say lightly, "how are you liking working for Ethan?"

She straightens in her seat. "It's... challenging. But I'm learning a lot."

"Challenging," I repeat with a small laugh. "Yeah, that's one word for it."

Her brow furrows a little, like she's not sure what I mean. "He's a good boss."

I nod, leaning a little closer. "He can be. Just don't take it personally if he gets... intense. That's his thing."

"I've noticed," she says quietly, smiling nervously.

I study her for a second. There's something about her tone. Not just nerves. Something else. A flicker in her eyes, like she knows more about him than she should.

I file it away.

"Well," I say, straightening, "you'll do fine. Just remember...Ethan likes people who follow instructions."

She nods. "I'll keep that in mind."

I give her one last smile, then knock on his door without waiting for her to announce me.

"Come in," he calls out.

I open the door and walk in, and his face actually softens when he sees me. "Rhea."

"Hi, baby," I say, walking over. "Surprise."

He stands and kisses me on the cheek, polite, a little distant. "Didn't expect you."

"Yeah, I figured," I say, glancing over my shoulder toward the door. "Didn't know you hired someone new."

"Lina?" he says, like it's nothing. "Started this week."

"She's pretty," I say, still smiling.

He looks at me for a second, expression unreadable. "She's good at her job."

"Of course," I say, brushing a bit of lint off his jacket. "I just didn't expect you to hire someone so... young."

"She was the most qualified," he says, sitting back down like that ends the conversation.

I don't push it. Not yet.

I just sit on the edge of his desk, crossing my legs slowly. "So, are you free for lunch today? Or should I assume another 'meeting'?"

He gives me a small smile. "Lunch sounds good."

"Good," I say, letting my hand slide over his tie. "You can tell me all about your new hire."

He gives me that warning look. The one that says don't start.

I pull back, still smiling sweetly. "Relax, Ethan. I'm kidding."

But I'm not.

Because when I walk out of his office a few minutes later, Lina looks up from her desk again.

And I see it. That same flicker. The one that says she's trying too hard not to look at the door I just came from.

I pause. "You'll do fine here," I tell her softly. "Just remember where you stand."

She blinks. "Sorry?"

I smile again, that same practiced warmth. "I mean, it's easy to get lost in this place. Everyone's trying to make an impression."

"Oh," she says, confused but polite. "Right."

I start walking away, heels clicking down the hall.

But inside, I'm seething.

Because I know what I saw in her eyes, that mix of fear and something else. Something dangerous.

And I know Ethan.

If he hasn't crossed that line yet, he's already thinking about it.

LINA POV

The second Rhea walks out, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

My chest feels tight, like I've been pretending to breathe for the past ten minutes. I grab my pen, pretend to jot something down, but my hand won't stop shaking.

She's even prettier in real life.

Not just the "Instagram pretty" kind either. She's the type of woman that walks into a room and everyone looks. Confident, perfect hair, soft voice, that easy way she stands like she's never had to try too hard.

I knew who she was before she said her name.

When I found out my boss was Ethan Holt, I'd done what any sane woman would do...I Googled him. CEO. Billionaire. Gorgeous. And very much taken.

Her name popped up right under his: Rhea Bennett. Marketing executive. Girlfriend. Society's golden couple.

So, no, it wasn't exactly a surprise when she showed up today.

I just didn't expect her to look like that.

And seeing her in person? It's different. Real. Painfully real.

Because I know what it feels like to have Ethan's eyes on me. To feel that heat. To remember his voice when it wasn't cold or professional but low, rough, whispering my name.

And now... he's hers.

I press my lips together and focus on the computer screen, typing something useless just to look busy. But my brain is running wild.

She'd smiled at me like she meant it, but I could feel it. That tension under the surface. That quick little scan women do when they size each other up.

The way her eyes lingered on my face just a second too long.

She knows.

Or maybe she doesn't.

But she feels it. The weird, invisible thing between Ethan and me.

And honestly? I hate that she has every right to.

She's the girlfriend. The one who gets to walk into his office like she belongs there. The one he can touch, kiss, take home. The one who doesn't have to pretend that one night never happened.

I swallow hard and glance at his door. It's closed now, the frosted glass hiding everything behind it. I can still hear a faint hum of his voice from inside. Calm. Steady. Professional. Like nothing ever happened between us.

He's good at that.

Good at pretending.

I sit back in my chair and close my eyes for a second. God, what was I thinking taking this job?

It's not like I could've known, but now that I'm here, now that I see him every day...it's torture.

The way he walks. The way he smells. The way his sleeves are always rolled up just enough to show those veins that shouldn't be so distracting.

And now knowing there's her....the picture-perfect girlfriend...it feels stupid to even remember that night.

But I do.

Every damn detail.

The hotel room. The city lights bleeding through the curtains. His hands. His voice. The way he looked at me like he'd been starving and I was the only thing left in the world.

I open my eyes and exhale. "Stop it," I whisper under my breath.

This is my job now.

This is my life now.

And I'm not that girl who sleeps with her boss.

Not anymore.

A notification pings on my screen, pulling me back to reality. A calendar reminder for some meeting I don't even care about. I click it away and stare at my reflection in the black corner of my monitor.

I look fine. Normal. But inside? I feel small. Like a walking secret I can't tell anyone.

Rhea probably went back to her office, perfectly calm. She probably laughed on her drive, maybe even texted him something flirty. And me? I'm sitting here trying not to remember how his mouth felt against my neck.

It's pathetic.

But I can't help it.

Because part of me, no matter how much I hate it, still wants him to look at me the way he did that night. To lose control again. To make me forget this whole stupid world.

And another part of me wants to run far, far away before I ruin everything.

The elevator dings somewhere down the hall, and I straighten up, pretending to work again. For all I know, Rhea could come back. Ethan could walk out. HR could stroll by.

I need to look composed. Professional. The kind of woman who belongs here.

Not the kind who spent one night with her boss and still dreams about it every time she closes her eyes.

The door to his office stays closed, but I can almost feel him behind it.

I know he feels it too. That tension. That same pull.

And it scares me.

Because I can already tell...this job is going to break me.

Ethan POV

"Send her in," I say into the intercom, my voice steady even though my pulse isn't.

A few seconds later, the door opens.

Lina walks in, holding a small notebook against her chest. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Sir.

God help me, that word does something to me.

She's wearing a pale blouse and black slacks, nothing flashy, nothing inappropriate, but somehow, she still manages to make it impossible to look away. Her hair's pinned up, a few strands falling loose around her face, and for a second I just stare.

Then I remember who I am. Ethan Holt. CEO. In control. Always.

"Yes," I say finally, clearing my throat. "Sit down."

She takes the chair across from my desk, crossing one leg over the other. Her perfume drifts across the space, light, something sweet. And for a moment, my brain goes completely blank.

I focus on the papers in front of me like they matter. "Tomorrow I have a meeting with the Denver branch. Ten a.m. You'll need to organize the files and prepare the quarterly sheets."

She nods, jotting it down. "Got it."

Her voice is calm, soft, too soft.

"And I'll need a follow-up call with our London partners at seven. That's early, I know."

"No problem," she says quickly. "I'll make sure everything's ready."

I glance up again. Big mistake.

She's looking at me, eyes steady, lips slightly parted like she's about to say something else. And my chest tightens in that familiar, dangerous way.

I look away. "Good."

I should stop there. I should tell her she's dismissed, that I have things to do. But instead, I find myself talking just to keep her in the room.

"You're adjusting well," I say.

"I'm trying," she answers, smiling a little. "Still getting used to how fast everything moves here."

"That's Holt Enterprises," I reply, trying to sound amused, not affected. "We don't slow down."

"I've noticed."

Silence stretches for a beat too long. I can hear the clock ticking, the faint sound of traffic from twenty floors below.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and my eyes follow the movement without permission.

Stop.

I look down again, pretending to review a document I've already read twice. "You've done well so far. Keep it up."

"Thank you, sir," she says softly.

There it is again...sir.

Something about the way she says it, careful but not cold, makes my jaw tighten. I want her to stop saying it. And I want her to say it again.

"You can go," I say, forcing my tone back to normal.

She stands, gathering her notebook. "Of course."

But she hesitates for half a second before turning to leave, and in that moment I make the mistake of looking at her again.

Her expression is unreadable...some mix of nerves and something else. Curiosity. Heat. The same thing I feel but keep buried under a thousand layers of control.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asks quietly.

God, the question. The way she says it.

I can feel the words fighting their way up my throat... yes, you, always, but I swallow them down.

"No," I say flatly. "That'll be all."

She nods, turns, and walks to the door. Her heels click against the tile, steady and sharp. Each step feels like a test.

When the door closes behind her, I drop my pen and lean back in my chair.

My pulse is still running too fast. I rake a hand through my hair and exhale hard, trying to get my head straight.

This is exactly what I didn't want.

I hired her because she was the best candidate, not because of that night. Hell, I didn't even know it was her until she walked into that interview room. But the universe has a sick sense of humor.

I can still see her in that hotel room, messy hair, soft skin, the sound of her laugh right before everything blurred. That night had no rules, no boundaries, no names that mattered. Just two strangers forgetting the world for a few hours.

And now she's sitting across from me every day, calling me sir.

I shouldn't want her.

But I do.

I've built my entire life on control, running a company, leading people, making decisions that shape futures. But one look at Lina Hayes, and that control feels like glass, thin, fragile, ready to shatter.

I stand up and walk to the window, staring out at the city lights. The skyline stretches for miles, but it doesn't calm me the way it usually does.

Somewhere below, she's probably at her desk, typing up tomorrow's schedule. Professional. Focused. Pretending this is just a job.

And maybe it is...for her.

But for me?

It's turning into a damn problem.

I run a hand over my face and mutter under my breath, "Get it together, Holt."

There's a knock on the door, light, polite.

"Come in," I say.

It's my assistant from HR, dropping off a few papers. "Need your signature, sir."

"Leave them there," I tell him, nodding to the table.

He sets them down and leaves. The door closes again, and I'm alone.

I stare at the papers for a long time but don't touch them. My mind's still in that moment, her sitting across from me, that quiet confidence in her eyes, the sound of her voice when she said yes, sir.

I can't let this happen again. I can't let her do this to me.

She's my employee now.

And I don't sleep with employees.

Not anymore.

I grab my phone, type out a quick message to HR asking for a new Secretary to shadow her next week. Just in case.

Then I delete it before sending.

Because I already know I won't go through with it.

I drop the phone on my desk and let out a long breath, closing my eyes.

Control, Holt. You've always had it. You can have it now.

I open my eyes and glance at the door again.

And for the first time in a long time, I'm not so sure I believe myself.