Maya arrived at Cole Towers feeling a mixture of determination and apprehension. The previous days had left her exhausted, yet strangely exhilarated. She was learning to navigate Adrian Cole — his brilliance, his intensity, and the unpredictable storm of his personality.
She stepped into his office and froze for a split second. Adrian was standing by the window, arms folded, but this time, he didn't glance at the city. Instead, his eyes found hers immediately, sharp and assessing.
"Sit," he said, voice calm but carrying the weight of unspoken words.
Maya obeyed, perching on the edge of her chair. Her pulse raced. She had grown used to his proximity, but today it felt charged in a different way — tighter, more personal, and impossible to ignore.
"Morning," she said softly.
He didn't respond immediately. He leaned against the edge of his desk, watching her, studying her like a puzzle he hadn't yet solved.
"Your report last night," he began, breaking the silence. "Well done. You caught details most people overlook."
Maya felt a flicker of pride. "Thank you, sir."
He stepped closer, and the air between them seemed to shift. The faint scent of his cologne reached her again — warm, sharp, lingering. Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to remain calm.
"Tell me something," he said suddenly. "Why do you care so much? Most assistants would just do the work and leave. But you…" His eyes held a strange intensity. "…you seem invested. Almost personal."
Maya's throat tightened. She wanted to answer honestly, to say she had no choice, that she needed this job, that she didn't know why she felt drawn to him — but something about the way he was looking at her stopped her.
"I… want to do well," she said finally, keeping her voice steady.
He smirked faintly. "Good. I like honesty. But be careful. Honesty can make you vulnerable. And in my world…" He paused, letting the silence linger, "…vulnerability is dangerous."
Maya's stomach twisted. She wanted to argue, to say that she wasn't afraid, but the weight of his words grounded her. She simply nodded.
The rest of the morning passed in tense focus, each task carrying the weight of unspoken energy between them. When Adrian finally stepped away to take a phone call, Maya exhaled slowly, trying to calm the rapid thrum of her heartbeat.
But she didn't have long. Adrian returned, closing the door behind him, and leaned casually against her desk, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
"You're improving," he said quietly, almost conversationally. "Faster than I expected."
Maya blinked. "Thank you, sir."
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "But don't let that fool you. You're still… dangerously close to understanding me."
Maya's cheeks flushed. "Understanding… you?" she whispered, unsure if she wanted him to continue.
He smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth curling just enough to suggest amusement and warning at the same time. "Yes. And that… could be a problem. Or an advantage. Depending on how you handle it."
Her heart thumped so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She realized, with a startling clarity, that this wasn't just about survival anymore. Adrian Cole had become a presence she couldn't ignore — a storm she was both terrified of and drawn to.
When the workday ended, Maya left the office feeling exhausted, exhilarated, and more aware than ever of the pull between them. She couldn't shake the intensity of the morning, the heat of his proximity, the lingering weight of his words.
Outside, the city lights twinkled like tiny sparks. Maya hugged her bag to her chest and whispered, I can't stop thinking about him. I shouldn't. But I can't help it.
And somewhere, somewhere she couldn't explain, she knew that Adrian Cole was feeling it too.
Because storms, when they collide, don't just pass quietly. They leave sparks.