Lia stepped into the office that morning, expecting the familiar hum of productivity at work. Instead, she walked into a storm of stares: some curious, some amused, but one—one stood out. Leo Grant.
He sat at the far end of the boardroom table, expression neutral, posture perfect. His eyes, though, were anything but indifferent. Cold. Sharp. Observing. Calculating.
She felt her pulse quicken under his scrutiny. Every instinct screamed at her to retreat—but she didn't. She squared her shoulders, forcing her usual calm.
When the meeting finally started, Leo never once looked away. And though his face didn't betray anything, Lia could feel it: an undercurrent of tension, unspoken words, and something warmer than his ice-cold exterior.
Minutes ticked by. She presented the latest analytics on the internal sabotage investigation—her voice steady, her hands betraying none of her nerves. All the while, Leo's gaze lingered, tracking every movement.
Afterwards, he stayed seated after the others filed out and finally spoke. "Carter." His voice was lower than normal, more personal.
She approached cautiously. "Yes, sir?"
He gestured to the charts she'd left on the table. "You've done impressive work. More than anyone expected."
Her heart thudded. Praise from him was rare. And yet… it came with that same icy gaze that made her knees weak.
"But," he said, leaning back in his chair, "don't confuse my approval for a cakewalk. This investigation will be dangerous. And if you fail—
"I won't fail," she cut in, voice steady.
He looked at her, his eyes flashing with something silent, perhaps respect, perhaps warmth, perhaps both. Then, without another word, he turned back to his laptop.
Yet as she left the room, Lia could not shake off the strange warmth that lingered in her chest—longer than his cold glance.
It was dangerous. It was confusing. And it was the first time she realized Leo Grant was beginning to matter more than she should allow.