The city never really slept. From the top floor of Ling Enterprises, the world below looked like a sea of shifting lights, restless cars, and glittering windows. Yet inside the CEO's office, silence reigned.
Adrian Ling sat behind a desk carved from black marble, the faint glow of the skyline spilling across his sharp features. His jacket lay draped across the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. For the first time since morning, he allowed himself to lean back, exhaling slowly, though the weariness in his eyes was something far older than the workday.
Lucien leaned against the wall nearby, tie undone, arms crossed. He'd been watching Adrian all day, waiting for the right moment to push.
"She's different," Lucien said finally, breaking the silence.
Adrian's gaze didn't move from the glass wall. "She's efficient."
Lucien smirked. "Efficient? That's what you call the way you couldn't stop looking at her?"
A muscle flickered in Adrian's jaw, but he remained still. "She is… curious. Nothing more."
Lucien tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Curious enough that you called her to your office at nine in the evening?"
Adrian's lips curved faintly, though it wasn't quite a smile. "I have work for her. That's all."
The elevator chimed softly, and moments later, Seraphina stepped inside the vast office. She had removed her jacket, the white blouse beneath neatly tucked into her skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a low knot, a few strands falling across her face. She carried a tablet and a stack of neatly arranged documents.
She hesitated when she saw Lucien. "Oh. I didn't realize—"
Lucien gave her a polite, almost mocking bow. "Don't mind me. Just the wall decor."
Adrian's gaze flicked toward him, sharp and dismissive. "Lucien, go."
Lucien straightened, his smirk deepening. "Of course, Your Highness." He slipped out, leaving the room heavy with silence again.
Seraphina glanced between them, frowning. "Highness?"
Adrian's expression didn't change. "An inside joke. Sit."
She lowered herself into the chair opposite his desk, carefully placing the documents before him. "You wanted these reports by tonight."
He didn't reach for them. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on her, dark and unreadable. The weight of his stare made her shift in her seat.
"Tell me," he said at last, voice low, measured. "Why did you take this job?"
Seraphina blinked, caught off guard. "Because I needed one."
"That's not an answer."
Her brows furrowed. "Isn't it?"
His mouth curved, just slightly. "Most people are afraid of me. They last a week, maybe two, before they run. You didn't even flinch. Why?"
She forced a smile, though her pulse quickened. "Maybe I don't scare as easily."
"Or maybe," Adrian leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, "you've seen worse."
The words struck deeper than she expected, sending a strange shiver down her spine. She looked away quickly, fumbling with the tablet. "You should review the financial summary for quarter two—"
"Later." His voice was firm, brooking no argument. "I am quite certain I asked you a question."
Her lips parted, but she couldn't form the excuse she wanted. Instead, her gaze lifted back to his, almost against her will. For a moment, the office seemed to shrink, the city outside dimming until there was only the dark weight of his presence.
Adrian studied her as though peeling back every layer, as though he could see something even she didn't know about herself. And then, abruptly, he leaned back.
"You intrigue me," he said simply.
Seraphina's heart thudded uncomfortably. She forced a laugh. "Intrigue? That's… not exactly something you say to an employee."
"I'm not most employers."
"You don't say." She shook her head, trying to mask her nerves with humor. "Is this part of the job description? Survive cryptic conversations with the boss?"
For the first time, a genuine spark of amusement flickered in his eyes. "If it isn't, I'll add it."
The tension eased for a heartbeat, replaced by something almost playful. Seraphina found herself staring too long, wondering how a man could look both cold as marble and devastatingly alive all at once. She pulled her gaze away, clearing her throat.
"Anyway," she muttered, sliding the tablet toward him. "The reports are there. I should get going."
She rose quickly, but Adrian's voice stopped her.
"Seraphina."
She froze. The way he said her name—slow, deliberate—sent heat curling low in her stomach. She turned, clutching the strap of her bag tightly.
"Most people wear masks," he said quietly. "You… you're different. Don't let them break you."
Her breath caught. She didn't know what to say, so she nodded awkwardly and fled toward the elevator.
When the doors closed, Adrian remained seated in silence, fingers drumming lightly against the marble desk. He could still hear her heartbeat echoing in his mind—quick, steady, undeniably human, yet tinged with something… else. Something that didn't belong.
Lucien slipped back in, hands in his pockets, grin annoyingly smug. "So? Did you manage to scare her off yet?"
Adrian's gaze remained on the city. "No. She'll stay."
Lucien arched a brow. "Confident, aren't we?"
Adrian's voice was soft, but there was a certainty in it that chilled even Lucien.
"She doesn't know it yet," he murmured, "but she belongs here… with me."