Chapter 4 Beneath The Surface

Layla stood in front of the elevator doors on the twenty-third floor of Ward Industries, her fingers cold against the tablet in her hand. Her reflection in the polished chrome revealed a woman who looked composed. Confident. But the twist in her stomach told another story.

It was her first official day under Dominic Ward's contract.

The previous evening had been sleepless. She'd replayed every word of his offer, every glance that had passed between them. The man had a way of stripping her down with a look-not physically, but emotionally. Intellectually. He saw things she hadn't revealed even to herself.

When the elevator dinged, she stepped in, already bracing herself. The top floor was Dominic's domain, a place only a few were invited. She'd be working there. Closely.

The air shifted as the doors opened to his office.

Simon, his assistant, gave her a polite nod from behind his desk. "Mr. Ward is expecting you."

Layla's heels clicked against the marble as she walked toward the dark glass doors of his inner office. Her palm pressed to the sensor, and the doors glided open.

Dominic sat behind his desk, reviewing something on a digital screen. He didn't look up immediately. The tension between them hadn't lessened since their first meeting-if anything, it had grown heavier, more layered.

"Miss Winters," he said without looking up. "You're five minutes early. I like that."

"I figured you'd appreciate precision."

His eyes lifted to meet hers. There it was again-that piercing gaze that made her feel both exposed and challenged.

"I appreciate loyalty more," he replied, gesturing for her to sit. "But punctuality is a good start."

She sat opposite him, crossing her legs slowly. Not seductively. Just enough to remind herself that she was still in control of her body, even if her mind felt like it was slowly unraveling in his presence.

He slid a file across the desk. "This is your first assignment. A full analysis of our renewable energy portfolio. I want flaws identified, loopholes closed, and every dollar justified."

"You want that in a day?"

"I want it in thirty-six hours. Sleep if you must."

The way he said it-as if sleep were a luxury she had to earn-made her lips twitch. "Understood."

"Good." He paused, then added, "You'll work in the adjoining office. Door stays open. Always."

There it was-a rule. Simple. Subtle. Controlling.

She nodded but didn't reply. She would pick her battles.

Hours passed in a blur. The adjoining office was modern, spacious, and far too quiet. Dominic had made it clear she could ask questions, but only when necessary.

By mid-afternoon, Layla's eyes burned from data. She stepped out to stretch, surprised to find Dominic not at his desk. His voice echoed softly from the conference room.

Curious, she edged closer, pretending to check her tablet. Inside, Dominic stood in front of a massive screen, speaking with unusual passion to a board of partners. His tone was firm, calculated-but there was something almost vulnerable in the way he spoke about legacy. About responsibility.

"If we don't pivot now, we risk irrelevance," he said, his jaw tight. "I won't allow that. Not under my name."

Layla felt something shift inside her. She hadn't expected to feel admiration. Not for a man who seemed so emotionally armored.

Later, when he returned, his gaze swept over her like he knew she'd heard.

"Eavesdropping, Miss Winters?"

She didn't flinch. "Just passing by. You sounded... real."

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his lips. "Careful. You might start thinking I have a soul."

"Do you?"

He stepped closer, not touching her, but near enough that she felt the heat of his body.

"I have secrets, Layla. Not all of them are ugly."

Her breath caught. He had never used her first name before. And now, it felt like an invitation-and a warning.

The moment fractured when Simon knocked, reminding them of reality.

Layla turned away, heart pounding.

This wasn't just business anymore.

She wasn't sure it ever had been.

Chapter Five: Lines and Longing

The morning after felt different.

Layla stepped into her shower, water cascading down her skin like a cold reminder that yesterday had been more than just work. Her dreams had been full of him-his voice, his presence, the slow burn in his eyes. It wasn't lust alone. It was something deeper. Intimidation. Challenge. Maybe even intrigue.

She hated that it excited her.

By the time she entered the office, Dominic was already at his desk. Of course, he was. The man didn't sleep. Or if he did, it was probably upright and in a suit.

He looked up as she entered, his eyes flickering briefly over her dark blouse and pencil skirt. His silence held weight-not disapproval, not desire. Just awareness.

"Morning," he said.

She nodded, brushing a curl from her cheek. "I brought your updates."

He motioned for her to sit, and she handed him the files. His fingers brushed hers. A barely-there touch. But enough.

"You found the inconsistencies in the procurement chain," he said, scanning quickly. "That was fast."

"I figured you'd appreciate efficiency."

He looked at her then-really looked. "What I appreciate is unpredictability paired with competence."

Layla smiled faintly. "So... me."

Dominic let out a low hum of approval. "You're beginning to understand."

Later that afternoon, she found herself in the archive room searching for older investment reports. The space was dimly lit and lined with glass cabinets. Silent.

Until Dominic appeared in the doorway.

She turned, startled. "I didn't hear you."

He stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the low light.

"You're not supposed to."

Layla arched a brow. "Are you always this dramatic?"

"Only when it gets results."

He took another step closer.

She held her ground.

"What is this, Dominic?" she asked, voice low. "This... tension. This proximity."

He studied her face. "It's not proximity that unsettles you. It's control. You like it more than you should."

She blinked, heat blooming under her skin. "You don't know me."

"Not yet. But I intend to."

He was close now. Not touching. Not kissing. Just... present. Dominant in a way that didn't need physical contact.

Layla swallowed hard. "And what if I push back?"

His smile was slow. Dangerous. "Then I'll know you're worth every risk I've taken."

Then, just as quickly, he turned and left-leaving her heart pounding and her mind in chaos.

That evening, she met Ava at a rooftop bar.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Ava said, sipping her wine.

Layla leaned back in her seat, eyes scanning the city lights. "Worse. I saw a man who doesn't play games."

Ava's brow lifted. "Dominic?"

She nodded. "He gets under my skin. But not in the usual way. It's like... he sees the parts I hide."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Yes. But not violently. Emotionally."

Ava's expression softened. "Maybe he's the kind of danger you need."

Layla didn't answer. Her thoughts were already back in that archive room, in that charged silence, wondering what line Dominic would cross next-and whether she'd let him.

Whatever this was, it was no longer just about business.

It never had been.