Wilson didn't sleep that night. He tried. He lay on his couch, lights off, the city outside buzzing and flickering like it was laughing at him. But every time he closed his eyes, the voices crowded in.
Random thoughts. Regrets. Private hopes. Stray memories that weren't his. Women walking past his apartment below — fragments of secrets drifting through the walls like smoke.
By morning, his head felt like a radio stuck between a hundred stations. Still, when his alarm buzzed, he dragged himself up, showered in ice water, and forced his shoulders straight. If he looked broken, he was finished. The city didn't wait for broken men.
He stepped into the office just after seven, hoping for quiet. No one around meant no noise. He needed that silence more than coffee.
But the universe had other plans.
Mia was already there.
She sat alone in the glass conference room, hair up, black blazer sharp enough to cut glass. A folder lay open in front of her, highlighter tapping against the table. The moment he stepped into view, she didn't look up. But her mind snapped awake.
Of course he's early. He thinks showing up first makes up for slipping yesterday. Focus. Don't let him distract you.
Wilson almost smiled. Almost. He pushed the door open and stepped inside like he belonged there — like he didn't spend half the night wondering how much of her mind he could stand to hear before it killed him.
"Morning," he said.
Mia didn't look up. "Sit down. We have work to fix."
He dropped into the seat across from her, watching her eyes move across the page, line by line. Her pen traced circles on the margin, a small tell she probably didn't know she had.
She broke the silence first.
"What happened to you yesterday?"
Wilson forced a shrug. "Long day."
Her thoughts were louder than her tone.
Liar. Something's wrong. Just say it. I'd listen — maybe.
"Are you worried about me again?" he asked, testing her.
Her eyes flicked up, cold. "I'm worried about the account. Don't flatter yourself."
But in her head, she betrayed herself again.
If you fall apart now, I don't know if I'll forgive you.
Wilson leaned back, ignoring the stabbing behind his eyes. He could push her now. He knew it. He could ask. He could twist the truth out of her piece by piece.
Instead, he changed the subject.
"You heard about Luna?"
Mia's pen froze. Her voice didn't change. "What about her?"
Wilson tilted his head, letting himself hear just enough to get the edge he needed.
She's not done. She wants you cornered. Don't be stupid enough to think she won't come for you again.
He pushed it further. "I think she wants something more than my job performance."
Mia's eyes snapped to his. "Handle it."
Her mind cracked like glass under pressure.
If she touches you again, I swear
He couldn't help the low laugh that slipped out. "Are you jealous, Hamilton?"
Her pen dropped. She stood so fast her chair scraped back.
"Fix the account, Carter," she said. Her voice was flat, but her mind was fire.
Don't do this. Don't make me want to protect you.
Wilson stood too, closing the gap just enough to feel her breath catch.
"Mia," he said, voice softer now. "What are you so afraid of?"
She didn't move. She didn't step closer either. But her mind was raw and real and right there for him to steal.
You. I'm afraid of you. And what you make me want.
Then she pushed past him, heels sharp on the tile, leaving him alone with the truth he never should have heard.
The voices roared around him, but one thing was clear through the noise. The closer he got to Mia Hamilton, the more he wanted the chaos to drown out everything else except her.