Chapter 5: Dangerous Proximity

Myra's POV

The car pulled up to the Thorn mansion just after dusk. I stepped out with my suitcase, the weight of the past day still sitting heavily on my shoulders. Sophia was already waiting at the door, her expression a mix of relief and concern.

“You’re staying the whole month,” she said firmly, pulling me into a hug. “No arguments. This is your home too.”

I held on a little longer than usual, breathing in the familiar comfort of her presence. “Thank you, Soph. Really.”

She helped me carry my things upstairs to the guest room I always used—the one down the hall from hers, with the wide window that looked out over the woods. I unpacked slowly, hanging clothes in the closet and arranging my books and laptop on the antique desk. For the first time since leaving my mother’s house, the sharp edge of guilt softened just enough for me to breathe more easily. Here, the air felt different. Quieter. Safer.

I changed into soft lounge clothes and went downstairs. The kitchen still carried the faint scent of dinner. I poured a glass of water and stood by the island for a moment, letting the quiet of the house settle around me. A full month. Space to study. Space to think. And, inevitably, proximity to the one person who unsettled me most.

That peace didn’t last long.

Voices drifted from the main living area—one deep and steady, the other lighter and more animated. I moved closer, staying in the shadows of the hallway.

David stood near the fireplace, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. Even at the end of a long day he carried the same quiet authority that always made the room feel smaller. Lila stood close beside him, laughing at something he had said. She wore a fitted blouse and tailored pants, her posture easy and confident. One hand rested lightly on his arm as she spoke.

“You always did know how to command a room,” she said, her tone warm and familiar. “The way you handled those northern Alphas last week was impressive. I’d like to sit in on more of your strategy sessions while I’m here. I might even have a few useful thoughts.”

David’s expression stayed professional, but he didn’t step away. “Your experience in the northern territories could be helpful,” he replied. “We’ll see.”

Something tight twisted in my chest. She stood there so easily, touching his arm, holding his attention without effort. In only a few days she had made herself comfortable in the space around him. Meanwhile I remained what I had always been—Sophia’s quiet friend, present but rarely truly seen.

I watched them for another moment, the jealousy settling heavily. Lila belonged in this world in a way I never quite had. She spoke with confidence. She moved with certainty. She did not hesitate.

Sophia appeared beside me then, breaking the moment. “Hey. Come join us. Dad’s just finishing up.”

I forced a small smile and stepped into the room. David’s gaze flicked toward me—polite, distant.

“Myra. Staying a while, I hear.”

“Yes, sir,” I said quietly. “Thank you for letting me.”

He gave a brief nod and turned back to the papers on the side table. Lila offered me a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“The more the merrier.”

The rest of the evening passed in conversation and a shared meal. Lila carried most of the talk, telling stories that occasionally drew a faint smile from David. I stayed quieter than usual, watching the way she leaned in, the way her laughter seemed to pull his attention. It stung more than I wanted to admit.

Later, after Sophia went upstairs, I lingered in the hallway near the study. The door stood slightly open. Their voices carried clearly.

“…and Myra’s really good at this kind of work,” Sophia was saying. “Top of her class in Wolf Marketing and Census Analysis. Her papers on inter-pack demographics are excellent. With Sarah on leave for the next few months, you need help sorting the border reports and updating the alliance strategies. Myra can handle it. She’s already here.”

David’s reply was low and measured. “You’re sure she can manage the late nights? This isn’t the same as campus work. Some sessions will run past midnight. I don’t want it interfering with her studies.”

“It won’t,” Sophia answered. “She’s reliable and focused. It might even help take her mind off things at home. Please, Dad?”

There was a short pause.

“All right,” David said at last. “Have her come see me tomorrow morning. We’ll start in the study.”

My heart gave a hard, sudden beat. Me. Working directly with him. In his private study. Night after night.

I stepped away before they could notice me and returned to my room. Once the door was closed, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady my breathing. A full month in this house. Now every evening would place me in the same room with him—surrounded by the quiet intensity of his presence, discussing strategy and data while the careful distance between us remained.

The thought left me restless. Excited and unsettled in equal measure.

I lay back and stared at the ceiling for a long time, listening to the quiet of the house. Lila’s earlier ease with him replayed in my mind. She moved through his world without hesitation. I still felt like an outsider looking in. And yet tomorrow I would sit across from him, close enough to notice every shift in his expression, every measured word.

It was both a chance and a risk.

---

The next morning I dressed carefully—simple blouse, modest skirt, nothing that drew attention. When I entered the study, David was already at his desk. Lila was nowhere in sight, though a faint trace of her perfume still lingered in the air.

He looked up as I came in, eyes assessing me briefly.

“Sophia says you’re strong with marketing and census work,” he said. “We’ll need regular sessions, some of them late. Can you manage that alongside your classes?”

“Yes, Mr. Thorn,” I answered, keeping my voice steady. “I’m ready whenever you need me.”

He gave a short nod. “Good. We begin tonight after dinner. Bring your laptop.”

I left the study with the weight of the coming weeks settling over me. Lila was already making her place known, drawing his attention with ease. But now I had a reason to be near him—night after night, in the quiet of that room.

The air between us was beginning to shift.

The distance that had always protected me was growing thinner.

And I was not sure whether I felt more nervous… or more alive.​