*******Aria*******
Aria had faced a lot of firsts—first job, first heartbreak, first time burning rice—but nothing quite prepared her for walking into the thirty-seventh floor of Virelli Industries as an employee.
The office was pristine, almost intimidatingly quiet. People moved like chess pieces—efficient, well-dressed, and slightly terrifying. She smoothed her skirt and reminded herself not to fidget.
She had every right to be here.
Even if the CEO—the enigmatic, unreadable, dangerously attractive Kael Virelli—had hired her after barely a five-minute conversation.
The same man she'd randomly bumped into in the rain.
The same man who hadn't smiled once since that first encounter.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the same tight-bunned assistant from yesterday, whose name—she'd learned—was Eva.
"Ms. Hart," Eva said, gesturing to a sleek desk just outside Kael's office. "This is your station. You'll manage Mr. Virelli's schedule, sort correspondence, and screen calls. Do not disturb him unless it's urgent."
"What counts as urgent?"
Eva's lips twitched. "You'll know. Or you won't, and he'll tell you."
Aria swallowed. "Got it."
The day began with emails and scheduling updates, nothing too intense. But the awareness of him—just behind the heavy office doors—never quite left her mind.
Around noon, the doors finally opened.
Kael stepped out, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled, a file in one hand, phone in the other. His eyes landed on her instantly.
She stood quickly. "Do you need—?"
"No," he said. But he didn't look away. His eyes swept over her with a flicker of something—confusion, maybe. Frustration. Or worse… curiosity.
He passed without another word.
But her heart didn't stop hammering until he disappeared around the corner.
---
Later that afternoon
Kael returned from a meeting, tension clinging to him like a second skin. Aria looked up just as he walked by—and their eyes met.
It was like everything in the room quieted.
He looked tired. Not physically, but something deeper—like he was holding back the sea.
"You don't belong here," he said suddenly, softly.
Aria blinked. "Excuse me?"
He looked away, jaw clenched. "You're overqualified. You shouldn't waste your time chasing shadows."
"Well," she said carefully, "maybe I like shadows."
He froze at that. Then turned sharply and disappeared into his office.
Aria sat back, exhaling slowly. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
One thing was becoming clear: Kael Virelli was more than just a mysterious CEO.
And she was in far deeper than she'd expected—professionally, emotionally, whatever this was.
---
Time moved differently at Virelli Industries. Not slower—just… heavier. Like every moment had weight. Maybe it was the marble floors, the glass walls, the silence that hovered like smoke. Or maybe it was Kael.
They hadn't spoken much beyond work. Just clipped exchanges, calendar updates, and the occasional dry quip from her that earned the ghost of a smirk from him.
But still—something was shifting.
It was in the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't watching. How his eyes would linger for a second too long, like he was trying to solve her like a riddle he'd never meant to read.
She never called him out on it.
Mostly because she didn't want him to stop.
---
Two weeks later
They were the last ones in the office, the city lights painting soft lines across the floor. Aria was sorting files at her desk when she heard him clear his throat behind her.
"You're still here," he said.
She glanced over her shoulder. "So are you."
He hesitated, then stepped closer. "You shouldn't work this late."
"Says the man who owns the building."
"I don't sleep."
She arched a brow. "That's not healthy."
"I've been told," he said, so dry she laughed before she could stop herself.
He looked at her for a long beat, as if her laugh unsettled something in him. Then: "Come on. I'll walk you out."
The elevator ride down was silent, but not awkward. Tension buzzed in the quiet, not sharp—but almost… familiar now. Aria found herself sneaking glances at him, curious about the man behind the immaculate control.
Kael, for once, didn't catch her looking.
Because he was doing the same.
---
Another day
He caught her humming along to music in her earbuds. She didn't notice him standing in the doorway until she turned—and flushed.
"Sorry, didn't hear you—"
"What song?"
She blinked. "Uh. 'Crave' by MUNA."
He nodded like he'd log that away. "You sing off-key."
"I do not."
His lips twitched. "You do."
She threw a paperclip at him.
He didn't dodge.
But he did smile.
---
Another week
Aria brought coffee without asking one morning, placing the cup beside his tablet with a sticky note:
"You looked like death. Figured you wouldn't mind."
He said nothing at first.
But the next morning, there were two cups waiting at her desk. No note.
Just black coffee—exactly how she liked it.
---
The shift was subtle.
No confessions. No touches.
But everything felt different.
Like the air around them bent slightly. Like something was reaching between them, trying to close the distance they both pretended wasn't there.
And neither of them could ignore that, not forever.