The air inside the car was thick with unspoken words. As the city lights blurred past the tinted windows, Isabella stared ahead, arms crossed over her chest, her thoughts tangled in the whirlwind of the night's events. Her pulse still hadn't settled since that almost-kiss—since Alexander had leaned in, then pulled away like fire had licked at his resolve.
He hadn't said a word since they stepped into the car.
And neither had she.
Her eyes flicked sideways. Alexander sat with one hand on his knee, the other pressed to his temple, like he was trying to reason with a part of himself that refused to obey. His jaw was tight, lips set in a line that gave away nothing, and yet… she could feel the tension radiating from him like a current. It buzzed between them, alive and loud despite the silence.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Why did you stop?" she asked, her voice a whisper against the hum of the engine.
He turned to her slowly, eyes dark and unreadable. "You know why."
"No," she said firmly, "I don't. If it was a mistake, you could've said so. But you didn't. You just left me—hanging."
Alexander let out a quiet breath. "Because if I'd gone any further," he said, voice low and steady, "there wouldn't have been a line left to cross. And I'm not sure I could stop myself next time."
Her heart jumped at his honesty. She hadn't expected that. Not from him.
"Then don't stop," she said before she could think better of it.
Silence again. Heavy. Weighted with want.
Alexander looked at her, long and hard. "Isabella, this isn't just some fleeting office romance. I'm your client. Your future depends on this partnership. We cross that line and things get… complicated."
She laughed bitterly, turning to the window. "Complicated? My whole life's complicated. So don't use that as an excuse. Be honest. What are you really afraid of?"
His jaw flexed again. "Of wanting you more than I should."
The words knocked the breath from her lungs. She turned to him sharply, heart pounding in her ears.
He leaned closer, closing the space between them. "Because I do, Isabella. I want you. But I've spent years building walls that I don't break for anyone. And yet, here you are… breaking them without even trying."
She searched his eyes, trying to find the cracks. And there they were—hidden beneath the surface. Fear. Desire. Restraint.
"I didn't ask for this either," she whispered. "But I'm not going to pretend it isn't there."
He didn't answer. Instead, he looked forward again, speaking quietly. "We're here."
She blinked, realizing the car had stopped in front of her apartment building. The driver stepped out, ready to open her door.
Isabella lingered. She didn't want the moment to end like this—torn between temptation and tension.
Alexander's hand reached across her lap suddenly, stopping her from opening the door.
"Wait."
She turned to him, heart lurching.
"I meant what I said," he murmured, gaze intense. "This… you… it's not a mistake. But I need time. Just a little. To figure out how to want you without losing everything I've worked for."
She swallowed, her voice soft. "And how long will that take?"
He looked at her with something close to regret. "Not long. But long enough for you to know I'm not playing games."
She nodded slowly, then opened the door and stepped into the night, his words echoing in her chest.
The following morning was cruel in its clarity.
Isabella sat at her desk, pretending to focus on the reports in front of her. But all she could think about was him—Alexander Knight. The man who had kissed her without kissing her. Who had touched her without laying a hand on her.
Her phone buzzed, cutting through the silence.
Meeting at 10. Don't be late. – A.K.
Short. Commanding. Classic Alexander.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. She had expected things to be awkward after last night—but he was still treating her like the fierce, capable partner she was. If anything, that made her respect him more.
But it didn't stop the ache in her chest.
When she walked into the boardroom ten minutes later, she was surprised to find not just Alexander but several other executives seated around the long table.
He didn't look at her when she entered. Didn't acknowledge her at all.
And somehow, that stung more than anything else.
As the meeting progressed, Alexander was sharp, focused, and unbothered like the man who had whispered those words to her in the car didn't exist. Isabella played along, pretending the night hadn't happened either. But when their eyes finally met across the table, something shifted. It was subtle just a flicker but it was there.
And she knew, then, this was only the beginning.