12. Storm Aftermath

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• Guilty Pleasure #2   21. Tension Protocol

  It had been two weeks since Johnson Enterprises had settled into Elena like a second skin.She woke earlier now, dressed faster, and walked through the marble-floored lobby with more confidence than she’d expected. Her heels no longer echoed uncertainty. Her notes were cleaner, her voice steadier in meetings, and most surprisingly, people had started to listen when she spoke.Aisha had said it best during their last coffee run, “You don’t look like an intern anymore. You look like a threat.”Elena didn’t correct her. Because some days, she felt like a threat, not just to the other interns, but to herself. Because no matter how composed she stayed, no matter how clean her work was, how focused her eyes were on spreadsheets and creative pitches, her soul tilted in one direction only.Ryan.He had become a storm system in her otherwise methodical life. He kept his distance during office hours. There were no public glances, no suggestive remarks. But she felt him. Like heat across the ro

• Guilty Pleasure #2   20. Out of the Shadows

  Elena was halfway through her second cup of coffee when the office lights above her flickered to life. The clock on the wall read 8:52 a.m, still eight minutes early. The walls were decorated with clean, minimalist prints and motivational slogans, but the only one Elena truly believed in right now was, don’t look flustered, and don’t check the cameras.“Then I’ll have to punish you. And trust me, butterfly, you’ll like it.”Her legs crossed instinctively under the desk, thighs pressing tight. Yesterday had been a whirlwind of first impressions, nerves, and the raw electricity of seeing him in a completely different light. She had never felt like this. It was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. Ryan didn’t just crawl under her skin, he wrapped himself around her spine like a secret, pulsing in time with every heartbeat.“Hey, morning,” came Aisha’s voice as she entered their shared intern pod, balancing a matcha smoothie in one hand and a folder in the other.Elena blinked and fo

• Guilty Pleasure #2   19. Sweet Lies and Stolen Glances

  The café smelled like toasted almonds and vanilla syrup when Elena slid into the booth across from Avonlea. The café was an artsy little place with neon signs and too many vintage posters that made it feel like it was constantly stuck in 1995. It was late evening, just after six, and the warm glow of pendant lights made the space feel cozy, even with the chatter of tired office-goers buzzing in the background.Avonlea looked up from her matcha latte with a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.“Tell me everything,” she said, teasingly. “How’s corporate life treating you? Have you made anyone fire yet?”Elena let out a tired laugh. “Not yet. But I did have to pretend I knew what a KPI was.”“Oh god, was Ryan intense? Please tell me he did that thing where he stalks around the room like a CEO in a movie. I need visuals,” Avonlea grinned.Elena chuckled. “It was intense. Ryan was like a different person. Like, completely switched into boss mode. Cold. Focused. I don’t think he e

• Guilty Pleasure #2   18. The Rules of the Game

  The morning sun spilled through the blinds in gentle slats of gold, casting a warm glow over Elena’s room. The alarm buzzed at 6:15 AM sharp, but Elena was already awake.She’d tossed and turned all night, her mind replaying imaginary office scenarios ranging from impressively cool to catastrophically embarrassing. Today wasn’t just her first day as an intern at Johnson Enterprises. It was the day she entered Ryan’s world.Elena sat up slowly, her heart thudding against her ribs. A strange cocktail of emotions churned inside her — nerves, excitement, fear, longing. She’d dreamed of getting close to Ryan, but this? This was different.She rolled out of bed and into the shower, letting the scalding water ease the tension from her shoulders. By the time she stepped out, the mirror was fogged, her reflection blurred. She moved like she was tiptoeing through a dream as she slipped into the outfit she had prepared the night before.“Professional, not seductive,” she reminded herself, brushi

• Guilty Pleasure #2   17. The Line We Walk

  The moment Elena shut the door behind her, her heart sank. The house was quiet. Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she tiptoed into the hallway, clutching her clutch bag like it might shield her from what was coming. But she wasn’t that lucky.“Where the hell have you been, Elena?”Her father’s voice rang out from the living room, low and unmistakably serious.She froze, the air catching in her lungs. She turned toward him. Enric Carter stood there in his navy robe, arms folded, his expression unreadable. A half-empty glass of scotch sat untouched on the table beside him. His eyes were calm, but there was steel beneath that composure.“I…” Elena hesitated. “I was at prom.”“I also knew it ended three hours ago.” His jaw flexed. “I called you. Fourteen times. Your phone was off.”His tone didn’t rise, but it struck sharper than any yell would’ve.“I didn’t realize, the battery died.” She hated how unconvincing she sounded.Enric stepped forward slowly, like every step held b

• Guilty Pleasure #2   16. Yours to Keep

  The city’s skyline shimmered like a fallen galaxy outside the windows of Ryan’s penthouse, but Elena had no eyes for the view. The elevator chimed softly as the penthouse doors opened, revealing the quiet luxury of Ryan’s private world. It was exactly like him — powerful, restrained, decadent.Elena barely had time to take in the view before Ryan’s hands were on her, lifting her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her down the hall. Elena gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried her straight through the long hallway and into his bedroom.“Ryan…..”His room was the only place that felt soft in the entire penthouse — plush bed, sheer curtains rippling in the night breeze, an enormous window wall that looked out over the sparkling city. It was the first time Elena entered his bedroom, else she had been to his study only. He laid her down on the bed like she was something fragile, like the moment was something that had to be memoriz