Elena POV 

I barely sleep.

Every time I close my eyes, I see the bar, I see julian's face.

The way he stood at my table like he owned the ground beneath us, the way he said my name, low and demanding, the way I turned him down.

My heart jumps every time I remember it, a mix of pride and fear.

Because I something in my mind tells me Julian Stone isn't the type of man who forgets things easily.

Especially not defiance.

Especially not mine.

When my alarm rings, I sit on my bed for a long moment, my hands pressed to my face.

"Just survive today," I whisper to myself.

I get dressed, fix my hair, and go to work like I didn't challenge a man who could destroy me with a sentence.

At work, the lobby feels colder this morning.

Maybe it's me.

Maybe it's the dread crawling up my spine.

When I take the elevator to the last floor, my palms are already sweating.

I reach my desk and sit down carefully, placing my bag beside me.

His office door is closed.

Good.

Maybe he's not in yet.

I turn on my computer and try to breathe normally, but the memory of last night sits heavy on my chest like a weight. I can still see the way he looked at me when I told him no, like no one had ever said it to him before..

I take a deep breath and start checking emails, burying myself in work.

Minutes pass.

Then an hour.

His door stays closed.

He haven't call for me, he haven't send an email, he haven't even step out.

It should make me relieved. Instead, it twists my stomach into knots.

The silence feels sharp, punishing and intentional.

Every time the elevator dings, I look up, thinking it's him.

Every time it isn't, I sink a little deeper into my chair.

By 10 a.m., everyone in the office is in full work mode, typing, chatting, moving around with coffee cups.

Julian's office stays quiet.

But I know he's in there.

I get up to refill my water bottle, and Mila from yesterday spots me and came to stand beside me.

"Hey, Elena," she greeted, smiling "Rough morning?"

"You have no idea," I murmur.

"Boss trouble already?" she laughs lightly.

I force a smile, but it probably looks strained, if only she knew.

When I return to my desk, I try to focus again but focus is impossible, my mind keeps replaying the moment I refused him last night.

God.

Why did I say that?, why did I challenge him?, why do I feel guilty?

I shake my head, pressing my fingers to my temples.

At noon, the phone on my desk rings, I freeze, then I picked it up and answered 

"Elena." His voice came through the phone, low and calm.

My stomach drops.

"Yes?" I answered, my voice barely steady.

"Come to my office."

My throat goes dry immediately.

"Now."

I stand on legs that feel like they belong to someone else.

The walk to his office is maybe four steps, but it feels like a mile.

I knock once when I get to the door

"Come in."

I push the door open.

He's standing by the window, hands in his pockets, shoulders straight, suit perfect.

"Close the door."

I do, the click echoes loudly.

He doesn't turn around at first.

He stands there, looking out over the city, silent.

So silent I can hear my own heartbeat.

Then he speaks.

"You were bold last night."

Bold.

He says it like it's a warning, not a compliment.

I swallow. "I was having a conversation with my friends."

He turns.

And when his eyes meet mine, I forget how to breathe.

They're calm.

Too calm.

A mask he's chosen to wear today.

"You told me no," he says simply.

"Yes," I whisper.

He studies me like he's reading every reaction, every breath.

Then he looks down at his desk, picks up a folder, and hands it to me.

"We're leaving in twenty minutes."

I blink. "Leaving?" I asked, confused

"For a client meeting."

"But I wasn't scheduled to...."

"I changed the schedule." he said cutting me short, the tone he used means it final, no room to refuse.

My heart thumps painfully.

"Understood?" he asks.

I nod.

He steps around me, reaching for his jacket, as he passes, the faint smell of his cologne hits me.

My chest tightens.

He opens the door for himself but pauses.

Without looking at me he says:

"And Elena?"

"Yes?"

His jaw clenches slightly.

" Be at your best behavior" he say, 

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

"I will " I whisper.

He walks out and I stand there, shaking.

On the way to the meeting, we sit quietly in the backseat of his car.

He sit next to me scrolling through his phone like I'm not even there, his expression unreadable.

I stare out the window, pretending to be just as composed, but my fingers twitch against my skirt.  

But every now and then, I see his reflection in the window.

Looking at me.  

And each time, he glances away the second our eyes almost meet.  

The meeting itself is long and painfully formal.

Julian sits tall, composed, speaking in his smooth, controlled voice.

He signs papers, shakes hands, gives direct instructions, acting like I wasn't there.

Like we didn't spend one night together.

But I see it.

Small signs.

The way his fingers drum when someone sits too close to me.

The way his jaw tightens when I lean forward to pass him a document.

The way his eyes flick to me every time someone addresses me.

He can pretend all he wants, he didn't forget, he can't forget.

When the meeting ends, we step into the hallway and take the elevator down.

As the doors slide shut, my lungs tighten.

He stands in front of me, his hands back in his pockets, his shoulders tense.

The air in the elevator feels thick.

He looks straight ahead, then finally looks at me.

"What you did last night" he says quietly, "cannot happen again."

My fingers curl at my side.

"It won't," I say softly.

His eyes hold mine, too long and too intense

"You told me to forget you," I whisper, unable to stop myself.

A small, sharp breath escapes him, almost like I hit something sensitive.

"I didn't say I would forget you," he replies.

My heart stutters.

Then the elevator dings.

He steps out first but I stay frozen inside the elevator, feeling everything inside me twist at once.

Back at the office, the rest of the day passes in a blur.

Julian doesn't speak to me again, or call for me.

At 5 p.m., Mila stops by my desk.

"You okay?" she asks gently.

I nod, even though I'm not.

She gives a supportive smile before heading out.

I pack my things slowly.

When I finally stand, the door to his office opens.

My heart jumps as he steps out. For a moment, we're alone.

He looks at me.

His green eyes don't match the calm expression on his face.

They're darker, warmer, almost conflict

ed.

"Good night, Elena," he says quietly.

My breath hitches.

"Good night, Mr. Stone."

He walks away, disappearing into the elevator.

The doors slide close.

And I'm left standing there, every nerve in my body buzzing, every emotion tangled.

He wants distance, he wants control, he wants me to forget.

But he can't stay away.

And I don't know how much longer I can pretend that I can.

Elena POV

By the time I step out of the bus, my legs feel like they're made of sand.

The cold evening air bites at my cheeks, and every part of me aches from the long, messy day. I miss having a car, I miss the quiet, private space it gave me but that was before Ethan. Before everything fell apart.

I climb the stairs to my apartment, digging through my bag for my keys as I go, I finally find the key when I got to my door and slide it into the lock and freeze.

The door... it is already unlocked.

My heart lurches, my fingers tighten around the key, someone broke into my apartment.

For a split second, my instincts scream call the police, but another part of me, tired, frustrated, angry at life wants to storm in and catch whoever dared to touch my space.

I push the door open slowly, my breath stuck in my throat.

Then I stop.

Shopping bags, everywhere, neatly placed on the floor of my living room.

"What the..."

I step inside cautiously, closing the door behind me, my eyes dart over the bags, they look new, fancy, definitely not burglar items.

My heart nearly jumps out of my chest, when I hear movement from the kitchen.

A figure steps out, holding a cup.

I swallow hard and take a step back, ready to scream but I stopped when I saw the figure

"Nora?!" I yelled

She flinches, nearly spilling her drink, then she smiles like she didn't just give me a heart attack.

"Oh! Hey, Elena." she greeted.

I blink at her, confused, tired, and stunned all at once.

"What are you doing in my house?!" I asked her

Nora sets her cup on the small table beside her and claps her hands together in excitement, way too excited for someone who just broke into my apartment.

"Okay, so don't freak out. I did a good thing."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, still frozen by the door.

She walks toward me, grabs both my shoulders, and move me to the couch and gently pushes me down.

I sit, still processing everything.

"Nora. How did you even get in here?"

"Oh," she says casually, as if this is completely normal. She reaches into her jean pocket and pulls out a key. My spare key. "You gave me this when you moved in, remember? For emergencies."

"This isn't an emergency."

"It absolutely is," she says seriously. "Your emotional life is a disaster, that counts."

I let out a tired, frustrated sigh and drop my face into my hands.

Nora ignores my dramatic suffering and starts digging into the shopping bags.

She pulls out a blouse, a silk one, then a fitted skirt, then heels, then more clothes.

She spreads them out on the couch like she's hosting a fashion show.

My eyes widen.

"Nora... what is all this?"

She beams proudly.

"I bought them for you, obviously."

"You what? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," she says, flipping her hair. "You wouldn't have let me. And because after what your boss did last night" she pauses, eyes bright with drama, "you need to show him exactly what he lost when he opened his stupid mouth."

I groan and place a hand over my eyes.

"Nora, Julian doesn't feel anything for me."

She stops unpacking for the first time, looks at me like I've grown two heads.

"Elena, sweetheart, honey, my sunshine who is dying inside."

She get up and kneels in front of me.

"That man stared at you like you were oxygen and he forgot how to breathe."

I shake my head, but she continues before I can speak.

"I'm serious. He wasn't looking at other people, or even me, rude, by the way. He was looking at you. Like you're the only person in the room."

My cheeks warm but I shake my head again.

"It doesn't matter. He told me to forget him. He made everything between us feel like, like it was nothing."

Nora's expression softens, but only for a moment, then a spark enters her gaze.

"Do you want him to regret it?" she asked

I look at her, really look at her.

At her determination, at how badly she wants me to stop hurting.

And against my will, I nod, slowly and shyly

Nora grins like she's been waiting for this exact moment.

She stand up and climbs onto the couch beside me and turns to face me, her eyes glowing with excitement and mischief.

"Okay," she says. "Here's the plan."

I straighten a little.

"You're going to dress sexy tomorrow," she begins, pointing at the clothes she bought. "Not trashy, not obvious, just enough to make him lose every brain cell he's pretending to have."

"Nora.."

"No. Listen." she cut me off

She grabs the silky blouse, holds it up to me, and nods approvingly. "This one, it looks innocent until you get close. Then boom, danger."

I laugh weakly.

She continues, serious again:

"Step one: Get him coffee in the morning."

"I don't know what he likes." I interrupted

"Black. He's a control freak, they all drink black coffee."

I can't help but smile at that.

She goes on.

"When you hand it to him, lean forward just a tiny bit. Subtle, Elena, don't flash the poor man. Just give him a little view, something that reminds him you're not forgettable."

I bury my face in my hands again.

"Nora, this is insane."

"It's not insane," she argues. "It's strategy. Cleopatra did stuff like this and she ran kingdoms."

I snort.

"That's not how history works."

"Whatever, same vibe."

She grabs my hands and pulls them away from my face.

"And when you give him the coffee, let your fingers touch his. Just lightly, like an accident. Men like him notice everything, he will definitely notice that."

My stomach flutters with nerves and something warm, something I don't want to name.

I swallow.

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Yes, you can. And you will."

Nora squeezes my hands.

"He hurt you. Make him feel it back."

I look at her, my chest tight.

My heart bruised.

Then I nod again.

She grins victoriously and hops up from the couch.

"Oh! Before I forget," she says, rushing to the kitchen counter. She grabs a takeout bag I didn't even notice.

She brings it over and opens it with a dramatic flourish.

"It's your favorite, chicken lo mein and dumplings from Golden Bowl."

My stomach growls loudly, betraying me.

"Oh my God," I say, half laughing. "I didn't even see that."

"That's because you were too busy staring at the door like a terrified raccoon," Nora says, handing me chopsticks.

I swat her arm weakly, but I'm smiling.

We settle on the couch, food spread between us.

The warm smell fills the apartment, comforting and familiar.

And for the first time all day

I don't feel like I'm falling apart.

Nora talks as she eats, planning outfits, practicing lines, telling me I need to "walk into that office like sin wrapped in silk," which makes me choke on my noodles.

She laughs until she's nearly crying.

I laugh too.

The apartment feels lighter, safer and warner

Warmer.

And even though tomorrow terrifies me, even though Julian Stone's stare is still burned into my skin.

Tonight, with Nora beside me and food in my hands...

I feel something I haven't felt in a long time.

Hope.