Sophie stepped out of the ladies room, her fingers lightly smoothing a new crease in her blouse as she walked back through the quiet hallway. The sharp click of her heels on the polished floor echoed softly, each step measured yet betraying the whirlwind inside her mind. The secret she'd overheard clung to her thoughts like a shadow—dangerous, unsettling, and entirely unexpected. She forced herself to focus, to push down the rising panic. She had to stay composed.
As she reached the building's front entrance, the sleek black car waited just where she'd left it. The afternoon sun glinted off its polished surface, but it was the man's shadow sitting behind the tinted window who caught her attention first. Alexander Wolf—his tall frame was looking massive inside the black car. Even though she couldn't see his facial expression clearly she already knew how he looked; his quiet intensity of someone perpetually calculating.
He glanced towards the window as she approached, his gaze locking onto hers with a flicker of something unreadable. No words were exchanged at first—just a subtle nod that spoke volumes. Sophie opened the door and slid into the plush leather seat beside him, the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with the faint city sounds filtering through the window.
Alex's eyes flicked to her, sharp and assessing, before he returned his gaze to the road ahead. "Ready?" His voice was steady, calm, but beneath the surface, Sophie could sense the tension tightening like a wire.
She took a slow breath, steadying herself. "Yes," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The door closed with a quiet click, and the engine's hum filled the space between them as the driver maneuvered the car out onto the busy road. Outside, the city buzzed with indifferent energy, but inside the car, time seemed to compress—the weight of the secret Sophie carried pressing down on her like an invisible force. She knew this moment was fragile, a brief calm before the inevitable storm.
The city blurred beyond the tinted windows, streaks of steel and glass softened by the looming clouds. Inside the car, the silence thickened, broken only by the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic beat of Sophie's heart pounding in her ears.
Alexander Wolf sat beside her, angled slightly toward the window, but his attention was anything but absent. His gaze, sharp and perceptive, kept drifting back to her with the quiet scrutiny of someone accustomed to reading people without effort. For a few minutes, he said nothing—yet the weight of his silence pressed heavily against her already taut nerves.
He finally spoke, his tone as calm and clipped as ever, though edged with something faintly sharper.
"Something on your mind, Ms. Carter."
Sophie's breath caught. The question—or was it an observation?—struck closer than she'd expected. She swallowed, her thoughts tumbling over the overheard secret, the whispered fears of Vanessa, and her own role caught dangerously between them.
"I'm just…thinking about the meeting," she managed, her voice carefully controlled.
Alex's gaze lingered on her profile. His expression barely shifted, but the faint crease near his brow deepened, as though weighing words he wouldn't yet speak.
"You walked back slower than you left," he said, voice almost casual. "Something happened?"
Sophie kept her eyes forward, hands folded tightly in her lap. The secret churned at the edge of her conscience, sharp as glass. Part of her longed to spill everything—to warn him, to prove she wasn't just another outsider. But another part recoiled at the risk. If she misstepped, the consequences could be catastrophic—for the firm, for herself, for him.
Her mind screamed to tell him. Her lips refused to move.
"I…" she began, faltering. The words felt heavy, stuck behind the veil of uncertainty. "It's nothing important."
Alex's gaze sharpened, a flicker of something colder passing through his dark eyes. At six feet two, his presence seemed to fill the backseat despite his calm posture. There was a quiet power in his restraint, in the silence that followed her half-answer.
"Sophie," he said using her first name for the first time and his tone a shade lower, "I expect honesty, especially from those who share a car with me after a negotiation like that."
She felt the flush rising in her cheeks, the war between fear and trust burning just beneath her skin.
"It really is nothing," she insisted, softer now, almost pleading.
For a long, tense moment, Alex simply studied her—his gaze lingering on the nervous twist of her fingers, the tightness in her shoulders, the shadow behind her careful words. Then he looked away, exhaling a breath that seemed more controlled than relaxed.
Outside, the city traffic surged and slowed again, cars weaving in measured chaos. Inside, the air seemed thicker, charged by what was left unsaid.
Sophie's mind ran in frantic circles. Should I tell him? Should I wait? The truth clawed at her tongue, but fear—fear of what it might trigger, of what it might cost—kept it buried.
Beside her, Alex's own thoughts were a fortress she couldn't enter. But his posture—rigid, one hand opening and closing repeatedly on his knee—betrayed that her silence hadn't gone unnoticed.
The car continued its steady course toward Wolf Industries headquarters. Between them, unspoken words hovered like smoke—neither dissipating nor catching flame. Sophie sat perfectly still, every muscle tense, the weight of the secret growing heavier with every passing block. She needed time to sort out her thoughts and what she had heard. She needed time to calculate the risk.
And Alex, for all his measured calm, kept a watchful eye on the woman beside him—knowing instinctively that something had shifted, and whatever it was, it wouldn't stay hidden forever.
The elevator doors slid open onto the top floor of Wolf Industries, and Sophie stepped out beside Alex. The hushed luxury of the executive corridor spread before them—dark wood, sleek glass, and quiet power humming beneath every detail.
Alex walked a step ahead, his posture rigid, the faint line between his brows never easing. He didn't say a word, merely nodded toward his office. Sophie followed, the soft thud of her heels swallowed by the thick carpet, her heart beating so hard she feared he might hear it.
Inside, the office felt colder than she remembered from her brief first glance: minimalist and modern, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline, a broad desk in rich dark wood, and shelves lined with books and precise, impersonal décor. Alex crossed the room, turning toward her at last.
"Well?" His voice was calm, but the sharpness in it cut through the quiet like glass. "I gave you the ride back, Ms. Carter. Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"
Sophie opened her mouth—then shut it again. The words hovered at the back of her throat, tangled with doubt and fear. What if telling him makes it worse? What if it isn't even true?
"I… can't," she said finally, her voice small but steady. "I need time," she finally admitted.
Alex's dark eyes narrowed, the faintest flash of frustration breaking through his controlled façade. "You're visibly shaken, and you need time?" His tone turned cold, clipped. After what felt like an eternity he finally said: "If you have nothing else to add, you're dismissed."
Sophie's chest tightened, shame and relief warring inside her. She turned, walked back across the polished floor, and stepped into the waiting elevator.