MICHAEL

It is said that every experience has its first occurrence.

First love.

First heartbreak.

The moment you understand your body has forsaken several years of meticulous discipline by reacting to a woman you've known for precisely seventeen minutes.

I woke up at three a.m. in a frenzied state, not due to a nightmare - but due to something more terrifying. I experienced an erection.

Not only the morning variety. No. This was... intentional."" Emotional. A breathing slap to all the years living like a monk.

All I could see was her face.

Aliana Blake.

By nine a.m., I found myself in my doctor's office, much like a man anticipating his verdict.

Dr. Ethan Cole - a lifelong companion, Harvard alumnus, devilish in a white coat - reclined in his chair, staring at me.

"Let me clarify this," he spoke deliberately, holding back a smile. "You arrived here due to having an erection?"

I frowned. "Don't say it that way."

He leaned his head. "How am I supposed to say it, then?" "'Congratulations, your reproductive system has restarted after sleeping for a decade?'"

"I'm not joking, Ethan."

"Oh, I am aware you are not." "That's what makes this so enjoyable." He laughed softly as he opened my file. "Michael Hamilton, thirty-three years old, CEO, suffers from chronic insomnia, emotionally repressed, and now... biologically awakened." "Explain to me once more why this is an issue?"

"Since it's illogical," I retorted. "I've never responded to anyone in that manner."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And this 'anyone' refers to-?"

I paused. "A woman who submitted a job application yesterday."

He let out a soft whistle. "Wow, Mike." You've finally developed feelings - or at least increased blood flow - for an employee?"That's an emotional remark, even coming from you."

"It's not emotions," I whispered. "It's a disruption in chemicals." "I want the tests run on me."

Ethan's eyes fluttered. "Tests."

"Yes. Hormonal substances. Lab tests. "Brain scans if needed."

He inclined forward, placing his elbows on the table. "You believe a woman gave you... what, a hormonal illness?"

"I'm serious, Ethan."

He looked at me for a second - then suddenly started laughing. "Oh my gosh, you really mean it!"

I stared fiercely. "You're supposed to be a healthcare expert."

"I am. That's why I'm diagnosing you with your initial case of being human.

"Stop being foolish."

"Michael," he remarked, drying his tears, "you've claimed for years that you were asexual. You turned down every date, evaded every headline, and frightened every woman within a hundred-mile area. Now a beautiful stranger enters, and your-" he motioned subtly toward my waist "-system reactivates, and your immediate reaction is to request a CAT scan?"

"Yes."

He chuckled while shaking his head. "You're hilarious."

I folded my arms. "Are you conducting the tests or not?"

"Oh, I'm conducting them." "I'm also preserving this tale for your biography."

An hour later, I found myself on the exam table as a nurse collected samples as if I were trying out for a medical mystery series. Ethan sang happily next to her.

"You know," he remarked, "your folks are going to enjoy this."

I became motionless. "Why are you discussing my parents?"

"They have been convinced for years that you have a chemical defect."

"I'm not defective. " "I am productive."

"They forwarded your hormone panels to me biannually," he reminded me. "They pleaded with me to discover a remedy for your 'disdain for love.'" "Last spring, your mom even sent a specialist in fertility to my office."

"I terminated his employment."

"I know." You also prohibited him from all hospitals within a fifty-mile radius.

"He violated confidentiality."

"He inquired whether you possessed any soft furnishings." "You made a threat to take legal action against him."

"Precisely," I replied monotonously. "Improper behaviour."

Ethan smiled. "The point is - if your parents discover you've ultimately... replied, they'll celebrate with a parade."

"They aren't finding out about it."

"Come on, Mike, allow me to call them." Only a single call. I will inform them that their son, in fact, is not a robot."

"No."

"Could you please agree?"

"No."

He let out a theatrical sigh. "You're ruining the best day of my professional life."

"Do the damn tests."

Upon receiving the results, he gazed at the papers as if they were a script for a comedy show.

"Is there something wrong?" I insisted.

He glanced upward, beaming quite broadly. "You're in excellent health."

"I was aware of that."

"Testosterone levels within normal range, hormone equilibrium perfect, neurological reactions acute." "Michael, you aren't ill."

I breathed out. "Alright."

"Actually..." He grinned. "You're irritatingly well." "Such as, maximum masculinity intensity."

"Stop speaking."

"I refuse." You've been lacking spirit for ten years, and now you're-" he clicked his fingers "-ready to go.

"Ethan."

"Allow me this, Mike." Are you aware of how many years I've had to deceive your parents about your 'mental abstinence'? "Your mother once inquired whether you were secretly a monk."

"She's theatrical."

"She wept on the phone last Christmas since you told her that relationships are unproductive."

"They are."

He gestured towards me with pretend blame. "Nevertheless, efficiency has just resigned due to a woman."

I massaged my temples. "You're unbearable."

He reclined, feeling pleased with himself. "Now, share with me your thoughts on her."

"Not at all."

"Come on now." "I am entitled to at least a name."

"You will get nothing."

"Alright," he replied, feigning a pout. "I'll simply conclude on it." You mentioned she applied for a position. Thus, she is intelligent. "Self-assured enough to endure an interview with you, which limits it to... three individuals globally."

I disregarded him.

He persisted, unshaken. "Does she have blonde hair?" Dark-haired? "Respiration?"

"Stop making assumptions."

"Is there a pulse present?"

"Ethan."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright." "Out of curiosity regarding the medical aspect - did this... incident occur right after you saw her, or was it afterwards?"

I stared harshly. "At once."

"Oh wow!" He smiled broadly. "It's visual, then." "That's an improvement."

"Ethan."

"Okay," he repeated, raising his hands. "I'll stop the teasing." "But, dude-" he laughed "-you're totally in trouble."

I scowled. "Watch your tongue, bro."

"I'm not implying anything disrespectful. Hear me out." He leaned in, smiling. "You've spent your entire life without experiencing attraction." Now it's struck you like a runaway train. "You're not prepared for this."

"I'm handling it."

"You're losing control."

"I'm handling things effectively."

"Mm-hmm." He folded his arms. "What's your strategy, then?" "Dismiss her before your biology starts to revolt?"

"I have already employed her."

He became immobile. "You did what?"

"I employed her."

"Mike!" He moaned. "You're beyond help." "You're essentially residing in a romantic comedy crafted by a tax inspector."

"I needed an accountant," I replied defensively.

"You needed therapy."

"Which I possess." You. Regrettably.

He made a snorting sound. "Glad to help."

Ethan was not mistaken.

I wasn't prepared for this.

When I exited his office, my mind felt like a war zone of reasoning and strange warmth. I had dedicated my life to mastering control - of my business, my reputation, and my instincts. Attraction was sound; I didn't engage with sound.

Up until her.

Aliana Blake entered my office yesterday, calm and collected, and somehow shattered all that I had created. It wasn't solely her beauty - although, undeniably, she was breathtaking. It was her calmness. Her gaze pierced me as if she could see beyond the shield that others revered.

It wasn't yearning precisely - it was intrigue tinged with risk.

And it seems my body chose to perceive that as fireworks.

I returned to the office, disregarding Ethan's messages.

ETHAN: Alright, I'll hold off for a week.

I silenced him.

Upon getting back to work, disregarding Ethan's constant messages:

ETHAN: Just verifying if you're still around or if she did you in with a spreadsheet.

ETHAN: Is it time to send a baby announcement to your parents?

ETHAN: Alright, I'll hold on for a week.

I silenced him.

Upon entering my office, my elderly assistant, Lydia, was organizing the mail. She halted when she noticed me. "Sir, you're... ahead of schedule."

"Was I required to seek approval?"

"N-no, I just- you typically come after ten."

"I was accompanied by Dr. Cole."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh. "Concerns about health?"

"Biological perplexity," I whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry about it." "Has Mrs. Blake arrived yet?"

Lydia glanced. "Mrs. Blake... your recent recruit?"

"Yes."

"She's located in Conference Room Two." "Examining account books."

I nodded and began to stroll, disregarding the light thump in my chest. It wasn't anxiety. It was an upset stomach, at least I hope so.

Upon arriving at the glass door, I hesitated. She sat there - hair tied back, attentive, elegant. She was drawing shapes on a tablet, her lips moving as she silently computed.

No cosmetics, no facade. Simply serene intellect.

For some reason, my heartbeat chose to practice for a marathon.

Wonderful.

She glanced up and saw me observing.

"Mr. Hamilton," she exclaimed, rising hurriedly. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I remarked, my tone completely even. "How is your experience on the first day going?"

"Demanding," she acknowledged. "However... fine."

"Great."

Silence...

She looked at the folder she was holding. "The company's financial division is remarkable." I'm still outlining the business expenditures, but your documentation is-"

She stopped once she noticed I wasn't paying attention. I was too occupied gazing. Her voice was soft and distinct, and the type that made numbers resonate like poetry.

I coughed gently. Sure, that's the term."

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Okay," I nodded. "Alright- good."

She nodded, going back to her tasks, and I understood something frightening: I wished to continue listening to her discussion of costs.

I exited the room to avoid doing something foolish, such as smiling.

When I returned to my office, Lydia was offering a file. "Sir, Dr. Cole is on the line."

I sighed. "What does he want?"

"He stated - and I quote - 'Inform Michael that his tests confirm he's a completely capable adult male and his parents can stop submitting his baby pictures to science.'"

I shut my eyes. "I'm going to kill this idiot."

"There's additional information," she remarked, concealing a smile. "He further remarked, 'If he refuses to allow me to contact his parents, let him know I'll disclose his results to the media with the title: BILLIONAIRE UNCOVERS BLOOD FLOW.'"

I whispered a curse. Lydia attempted to suppress her laughter.

"Delete all messages from him," I instructed. "Block his number."

"Yes, sir."

"Also, send a legal notice to him."

"Have it already written."

I nearly smiled. "Excellent."

By lunchtime, Ethan had phoned six times. I eventually responded because I realized he would appear in person if I didn't.

"Please don't disconnect," he said right away. "I only need thirty seconds."

"You have ten."

"I simply wanted to inform you that your outcomes have been stored in your medical record with the designation 'Miracle of 2025.'"

"Remove it."

"Not ever."

"Ethan-"

"Additionally, your mother reached out to me."

I became motionless. "What did you say?"

"She was curious to find out if I had received any news from you." "I might have... suggested that there's positive information."

My heart rate surged. "You did not."

"She was in tears, Mike."I was unable to resist."

"Ethan!"

"She believes you've met someone!"

"I'm ending the call."

"Do not even think about it!" She is organizing a family meal.

"Goodbye."

"Mike-"

Press.

I flung my phone onto the desk, breathing out through gritted teeth.

This was going downhill.

That night, I caught myself walking back and forth in my penthouse, a half-full glass of scotch in my grip, revisiting every word Aliana spoke that morning.

Why on earth did those words seem to imply something deeper?

I looked at the mirror. My image appeared unchanged - pristine suit, calm expression, eyes overly perceptive. Yet within me something had shattered.

Perhaps Ethan was correct. Perhaps I wasn't broken merely.....experiencing lust.

However, attraction was not included in the plan. I didn't engage in chaos. I created structure, accuracy, and organization and she is chaos itself.

Still, for the very first time in my life, I desired chaos- the sort of chaos she brought.

My phone vibrated. A message from Ethan.

ETHAN: Just one more thing. If your "condition" deteriorates, contact me before you make any foolish decisions.

I responded: Clarify what you mean by stupid.

ETHAN: Anything related to emotions.

I grinned. Sure thing.

Yet, as I switched off the lights and looked at the skyline, I found it hard to forget Aliana's voice - peaceful, unwavering, completely distinct from everyone else's.

Throughout my entire existence, I had existed like a machine, impervious to longing or love. I had persuaded myself that I was unaffected.

Yet at that moment, a single meeting had shattered that illusion for one woman.

Perhaps Ethan would see it as improvement.

Perhaps my parents would refer to it as a miracle.

Perhaps I ought to reach out to a therapist.

Yet, beneath it all, I understood the reality:

I love this feeling, and I'd never let her go.

ALIANA

"Wow, I haven't seen you this vibrant in ages," Jenna states, lowering her sunglasses as she examines me as if I'm one of the figures in the shop window. "I swear by god Aliana, you shine." "Who is this person who has made you like this?"

I chuckled, fixing the silk top she'd persuaded me to wear. "There's no him, Jenna."

"Oh, there's always a guy," she replies with understanding. "You have been trapped in a marriage without love for seven years." One ordinary morning, you rise, discard the unseen widow's veil, and begin to smile once more? "Sweetheart, those aren't vitamins - that's a guy."

Sighing dramatically, I spin around in front of the mirror. The top hugs in all the right areas, smooth champagne satin on my skin, accentuating the gentle curve of my waist. For a brief instant, I barely recognise myself. I have colour in my cheeks once more.

"Would you mind not saying 'loveless marriage' so loudly?" I murmur. "The walls are listening."And ears that love to gossip."

Jenna's laughter is so thunderous that heads swivel. "You believe I'm afraid of your husband?" He's fortunate I'm not the person he married. "I would have burnt him by the second year."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "You would have ended up in prison by the third year."

"True," she states. "However, in all seriousness, take a look at yourself." You're beautiful, Aliana. "The world is ready to witness you once more."

She raises her phone before I can object, taking picture after picture while I partially conceal myself behind a clothes rack.

"Jenna, stop!" I declare, making an attempt to take her phone. "I look like I'm modeling for a women's fragrance advertisement aimed at recalling their value."

"That's precisely what you are," she replies, scrolling through filters quicker than my mind can comprehend. "We're sharing this because it's outrageous that the world is unaware of what a strong beautiful woman you truly are." she says, swiping through filters quicker than my mind can keep up. "We are sharing this because it's outrageous that the world isn't aware of the fierce person you've turned into."

"Do not even think about-"

Tap. Post.

"It's too late," she remarks with a mischievous smile. "Welcome back to civilization after your debut." Hashtag: finally liberated, hashtag: glowupqueen, hashtag: DominicWho?

I moan. "You're a troublemaker."

She wraps her arm around me with affection. "I'm your avenger. You're too nice. Just get a divorce already."

We move through the aisles, laughter mingling with the soft background of the shop's music. Jenna is a powerhouse - captivating, compelling, all that I once was before I married her brother. Before, I centred my whole existence on trying to hold onto a man who didn't wish to be held.

"Give this a shot," she suggests, showcasing a red dress that ought to be banned. "Should Dominic catch sight of you in this, he'll gag on his lover's fragrance."

"Which one is it?" I inquire in a flat tone.

"Oh, look alive darling, you'd love the person you'll see in the mirror." She replies, straight-faced, and we both burst into laughter.

As I enter the fitting room, I feel a mix of anxiety and curiosity. The dress clings to me as if it has spent its entire existence eager to make a statement. The neckline plunges boldly, and the backless design seems nearly rebellious.

Jenna lets out a whistle as I walk outside. "Oh. Mine. Deity. That's all. That's the one. "Aliana, you look like the offspring of vengeance and redemption."

I can't suppress the grin that appears on my face. For a change, I understand what she means. I appear... strong. Similar to the woman I misplaced amid concession and sorrow.

"Okay," I reply gently. "I will accept it."

Jenna inhales sharply. "She said that she would accept it!" "Somebody notify the media!"

When we finish, the couch next to the cashier is filled with shopping bags. Gowns, pumps, and even undergarments - all thanks to Jenna's insistence.

"You can't go without lingerie," she'd stated. "Every uprising begins with lace."

I nod in disbelief, face flushed as the sales assistant wraps the final pair - black, lacy, outrageous.

"Jenna," I whisper. "That's absurd." "Who is this for?"

"Yourself," she replies right away. "Or the next individual fortunate enough to witness it." Regardless, it's not in vain.

Her words resonate more profoundly than I anticipated. Perhaps it was because for such a long time, all my actions were for Dominic - wearing modest attire since he liked it, smiling even when I felt like yelling, and quietly blending into the background while he stood out.

Not anymore.

I dig into my bag for my card, experiencing an unusual sense of pride. "Okay, let me settle my bill before you persuade me to purchase everything in the shop."

The cashier grabs my card but hesitates, appearing puzzled. "Um, ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"Your bill has been taken care of."

Jenna closes and opens her eyes. "What did you say?"

"Taken care of?" I reply, scowling. "By whom?"

The cashier verifies the system. "Michael Hamilton."

For a moment, I truly believe I misunderstood. "Excuse me - who?"

"Mr. Hamilton Michael, ma'am." He called previously and directed that your purchases be billed to his account. He stated, and I quote, 'Ensure she doesn't disagree.'"

Jenna's mouth hangs open. "Wow, I can't believe this."

"What on earth-how did he even-" I stutter.

Jenna nearly shrieks. "You indeed have a man!"

"I do not!" I exclaim, warmth rushing to my face. "I encountered him once for an interview!" "That's unbelievable!"

"Unbelievably romantic," she amends, grasping her heart. "Billionaire enigmatic figure covers all expenses while you're on your journey of self-discovery?" "Darling, this feels like a Wattpad fantasy."

I shake my head, feeling overwhelmed, gazing at the neatly arranged bags that clearly aren't mine to pay for.

Michael Hamilton. The mysterious CEO who possessed half the city's skyline, the individual whose image appeared on Forbes covers, and never appears with any woman despite keeping his distance has been keeping tabs on me.

"You won't be going anywhere without more lingerie," she'd stated.

I shake my head, face flushed as the sales clerk wraps the final pair - black, intricate, daring.

"Jenna," I whisper urgently. "That's absurd." "To whom am I dressing like this for again?"

"Like I said, yourself," she replies right away.

Before I can formulate thoughts, a well-known deep voice cuts through the atmosphere.

"Well, isn't this unexpected."

I turn around, and my heartbeat falters. Dominic is at the doorway, with his arm wrapped around a tall brunette I don't recognize. She's chuckling at something he mentioned until she notices me - and stops in her tracks.

"Aliana," Dominic says nonchalantly, his gaze darting across the shopping bags. "Didn't think I would run into you here."

"I didn't think I'd find you sober," I remarked before I could hold my tongue.

Jenna lets out a snort.

The brunette moves uncomfortably, attempting to free her hand from his arm, but Dominic holds on tighter. "You're out shopping," he remarks, as if it's illegal. "Alongside my sister."

"I was invited by your sister," I state calmly. "You don't control my weekends."

His jaw clenches. "However, I'm still watchful of my funds."

I grab one of the bags and smile gently. "Actually, someone else cares.

He scowls. "What is that meant to imply?"

Jenna advances, as arrogant as always. "It signifies that someone truly values her enough to invest in her happiness." "Give it a shot one of these days, brother."

Dominic's nostrils expand. "Jenna-"

"Keep it," she retorts. "You had the opportunity to treat her well."You opted for the display of fragrance-laden pests instead."

The brown-haired girl lets out a slight indignant noise, but Jenna dismisses her.

I ought to be upset. Or sad or envious. However, I do not. I simply feel... fed up.

"Have fun with your shopping," I say as I turn away. "I have places to get to."

Dominic takes hold of my wrist, speaking softly. "Do you believe that leaving resolves anything?" "You are still my wife, Aliana."

I gaze directly into his eyes. "Only in name, remember?"

His expression wavers, if only for a moment - that familiar sense of control he once held over me vanished like vapour.

Then I break away and stroll off, the sound of Jenna's heels tapping victoriously next to me.

Outdoors, the refreshing wind feels like a cleansing ritual. Jenna interlocks her arm with mine, smiling widely.

"You managed that like royalty," she remarks. "I've fantasized about putting Dominic in his place for years, but you?"You accomplished it in heels."

I chuckle unsteadily. "I hadn't even thought it through, but I feel relieved ".

"That's your true self," she replies gently. "Not the silent shadow he attempted to portray you as."

I breathe out, gripping my bags. "I'm not sure what is going on anymore." "Michael covering all the costs, Dominic arriving... I simply hoped for a peaceful day of shopping."

Jenna pushes me softly. "Perhaps the universe determined it was the moment for your lead role and that love would find you again. I believe Michael Hamilton has a thing for you."

I look at her, part entertained, and unsure. "Do you honestly believe I'm prepared for that?"

She grins. "Oh, sweetheart. You were destined for it. "You simply overlooked it."

While we walk towards her car, I can't shake off my thoughts about Michael - the man who financed my defiance without a request. The guy I hardly know yet can't help but think about it endlessly.

For years, I pleaded with Dominic for bits of love, for evidence that I mattered more than just utility. And what now?

A stranger had done more for me in a single quiet gesture than my husband had in all seven years.

ALIANA

A year had passed.

An entire, incredible, heart-wrenching year has passed since I left Dominic's business, his vacant estate, and the persistent pain of feeling unseen next to a man who was indifferent to my existence.

I worked with Michael Hamilton - the allegedly "asexual" mysterious attorney who had startled the nation when he assumed control of Hamilton & Co. and managed it with chilling brilliance and exact precision.

And I? I served as his lead accountant.

Actually... in a sense.

Emotionally, I was the woman who sometimes still forgot to breathe whenever he spoke my name as if it were a sacred thing he shouldn't touch.

This evening was the annual gala of our company. The single occasion where everyone feigned enjoyment while covertly vying for whose outfit was pricier and whose companion appeared the most lavish.

Jenna, my sister-in-law - and now, my self-designated fairy godmother of vengeance and personal renewal - had pulled me to the Hamilton Hall's ballroom in a backless navy-blue dress she insisted would "make Michael Hamilton remember his masculinity."

She was correct. The man hardly blinked when he spotted me earlier that evening and then courteously inquired if I had eaten dinner. Yet the glimmer in his eyes revealed an alternative narrative.

"Can you remind me why I'm in a dress that hardly conceals my back?" I murmured while Jenna and I stood close to the glass barrier that overlooked the city skyline, enjoying champagne.

"Because," she remarked with a sly grin, "you're a divine being who forgot she had thunder in her soul." "Tonight, your foolish ex will be overwhelmed by regret, and hopefully, you chose someone, get laid, and just get a divorce."

I sighed. "You said we wouldn't discuss him."

She lifted her glass. " Not really - you said that. "I always disagreed."

I chuckled against my will. Jenna had that influence on others - the unique talent to turn wounds into inside jokes.

I took another gulp, attempting to calm my anxiety. Michael positioned himself across the room, encircled by board members and politicians. His tuxedo hugged him tightly, sharp enough to slice through the chatter. He remained calm and collected - but periodically, his gaze wandered in my direction. Elusive, momentary gazes that ignited like revelations.

And then, just as Jenna had foreseen - because the universe loves dramas - Dominic showed up.

Arm in arm with a model who seemed to be compensated for her smile.

This time, I didn't freeze. Didn't waver. I simply glanced at him, then turned my gaze elsewhere.

"Alright," Jenna murmured. "That's the way Queens Act."

"I'm no queen," I whispered.

"You are his estranged wife. Being out with another woman is nothing short of disrespect, so just divorce him already, and you are very much a queen boo, never forget that. I can't believe I'm even related to that twat."

I chuckled quietly upon hearing the recognizable voice behind me.

"Aliana."

The manner in which he pronounced my name still irritated me - not due to affection, but because of his boldness. Dominic always talked as if he possessed everything the sunlight reached, including me.

I turned, a calm smile in position. "Dominic."

"You seem... different," he remarked, his gaze sweeping across me in a manner that used to thrill me but now just made me crave sanitiser. "Working with Hamilton is a good fit for you."

I bent my head. "You're suggesting I work for someone who truly appreciates my talents?"

His jaw twitched. "Please don't start, Aliana." You left okay. "However, you are still my wife."

Jenna sputtered on her beverage next to me. "Wow, what the hell?"

I didn't even look at her. "You forfeited that privilege the instant you presented your secretary as your guest at our anniversary dinner."

"That was business."

"Right."My therapy expense was also business, yet you nagged about it for years."

He moved in closer, softening his tone. "Do you honestly believe Hamilton will be interested in a woman with issues like you?"

I grinned gently. "You're referring to a woman who didn't pass away hoping you would love her?" "Sure, I believe I'll take the chance."

He blinked, caught off guard.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when I understood I was truly free at last.

Rain started falling midway through the event - thunder sounding like cheers for my newly discovered strength. The glass ceiling of the hall gave the impression that stars were descending.

Once the speeches concluded, individuals began to exit. Jenna intertwined her arm with mine, humming softly. "I swear, Michael was moments away from hitting your husband tonight."

"He's no longer your brother," I remarked, wrapping my shawl around my shoulders.

"He is." Nevertheless, still a fool. "And talking about fools," she whispered, her eyes sparkling, "you do realize Hamilton views you as if you're some kind of tantalizing treat, don't you?"

I closed my eyes momentarily. "He does not."

She grinned slyly. "He certainly does." I heard from someone two offices away from the man. She said she noticed his behaviour when you're on your lunch break. "He's similar to a wandering machine that has forgotten what air feels like. Her words, not mine."

I sighed dramatically, turning red. "Jenna, stop." Michael doesn't go on dates at all. He's-

"-a Person," she cut in. "And darling, the way he looked at you this evening?" "Absolutely not asexual."

"Jenna!"

She chuckled. "I'm simply indicating, Aliana, don't undervalue your strength." "You've shone so brightly that the universe needed to increase its stakes in the choice of lovers for you. Just live a little more. You're just thirty two and he's thirty four, if he ever comes to you; don't turn him down."

Before I could respond, a loud thunderclap erupted outside, rattling the building.

"Alright, perhaps we should wait for the storm to pass before heading out," she remarked, glancing at the glass doors.

Michael came over at that moment, his tone unwavering amid the turmoil surrounding us. "Aliana."

I moved, attempting to appear composed. "Mr. Hamilton."

His eyebrow raised a bit - he had mentioned it to me multiple times to refer to him as Michael, yet it consistently seemed... personal hence I never did.

"It's raining heavily," he stated plainly. "Allow me to drive you home."

"Ah, it's alright." Jenna could-"

Jenna lifted her hands. "Not at all." My vehicle is blocked by four high-end sedans. Accompany him.

"Jenna."

She smiled broadly. "I'm pleading with you, please." "Grant me this little vicarious excitement before I die alone."

I exhaled sharply, feeling beaten. "Okay."

The rain was relentless outside - cascades of silver on the windshield, lightning intermittently cutting through the sky.

Michael drove silently, one hand on the steering wheel, the other supporting his chin. I aimed to concentrate on the city lights yet caught myself stealing looks at him - at the defined line of his jaw, the subtle stubble, the way his lashes grazed his cheek each time he blinked.

"Okay," I finally stated, attempting to end the awkward silence, "you didn't need to give me a ride." I might have taken a taxi.

He looked at me for a moment. "I wished to."

"Ah."

Again, silence.

He then cleared his throat. "You managed Dominic effectively this evening."

I let out a light laugh. "Thanks." "I've gotten used to disregarding him."

He smiled softly. "Good for you. I thought you were going to let him walk all over you."

I stared at him then cleared my throat "I was a fool when I loved him but that episode is closed now."

He nodded a single time. "You endured heartbreak and embarrassment, yet you continue to present yourself with poise." "That is admirable."

I was at a loss for words. His compliments weren't trivial; they held significance and purpose.

The downpour grew stronger, pounding on the car's roof.

He furrowed his brow a bit. "Flooding on the road." My home is a five-minute drive - yours takes twenty in these conditions. "You will get sick. Can we go to my place instead?"

I closed my eyes briefly. "Your place?"

He offered a slight, nearly youthful grin. "I assure you, I mean no harm."

I couldn't resist bursting into laughter. "That's what all the delightful gentlemen claim before the Netflix documentaries."

He chuckled - genuinely chuckled - and a change of feeling occurred within my chest.

"Okay," I replied at last. "Lead the way then.."

His penthouse was precisely what I anticipated: stylish, simple, and remarkably neat. A location that had the scent of cedar and dominance.

"Get comfortable," he remarked, taking off his coat. "There's wine, or tea, depending on your preference."

"Tea," I said, removing my heels. "Wine leads me to express thoughts I cannot take back."

He grinned. "Then it will be tea."

I rested on the couch, observing him glide - serene, deliberate, completely oblivious to his captivating presence.

"Why do I have the impression that you don't usually bring people here?" I inquired.

He did not turn. "I don't really like people in my personal space."

"That means yes, then."

"Of course," he said, setting two cups on the table.

For a while, we sipped quietly as the rain lightly tapped on the windows. It felt strangely homely - as if it were something that shouldn't be real, yet was.

"So," I remarked after some time, playfully, "Jenna believes you're into me."

He stopped for a brief moment, cup suspended in the air. "Does she?"

"Don't fret, I informed her she was mistaken."

He smiled subtly. "Do you really think so?"

My breath stopped immediately. " Are you?"

His gaze rose to meet mine - serene yet powerful, akin to the stillness preceding a storm. "I think you're the first person in ages who makes me forget I'm meant to be untouchable."

The room became quiet, with only the storm raging outside.

"Mike..."

He turned his gaze, letting out a slow breath. "Do not be concerned." I will not take action on it. "I'm not that guy."

"Yet you might be," I murmured before I could hold back.

His eyes returned to mine - startled, probing.

And for an instant, I believed he would kiss me.

Instead, he simply smiled - slightly, wistfully.

"Drink your tea, Aliana," he said softly. "I'd take you back home immediately when the rain stops."