LOGINEmma’s POVIf you squinted just right, The Lantern almost felt like a time machine.Low lights. Soft music in the background. A sticky wooden table scarred with initials and drink rings. Natalie across from me, legs tucked beneath her chair, swirling her glass like she was interrogating it. Dylan beside her, already halfway through his second beer, grinning like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.It felt dangerously close to college. Before the ton of responsibilities. Before titles. Before everything got… complicated.“So,” Natalie said, setting her glass down with purpose. “Spill it—what the hell happened in Maldives?”I nearly choked on my drink.“What?” I squeaked, far too high-pitched to be convincing.Dylan burst out laughing. “Oh yeah,” he said, pointing at me. “That face. I know that face.”“I don’t have a face,” I shot back, heat rushing straight to my cheeks. I looked away, because the moment I didn’t, Lucas flooded my mind—sun-warmed skin, salt air, the way his voice
Carmilla’s POVI made it all the way back to my desk before I realized I was smiling.Not a big smile. Nothing obvious. Just a faint, private curve at the corner of my mouth that I had to consciously smooth away when Jason passed by with a raised brow.Get it together, Carmilla.Still—Nathan’s reaction replayed itself on a loop in my head. The sharpness of his voice. The way his jaw had tightened. The way he’d looked at me like I’d crossed some invisible line he hadn’t even admitted existed.Jealousy didn’t look good on him.It looked dangerous.And annoyingly… flattering.I sat down, opened my laptop, and stared at the finished report I’d printed minutes ago. Clean. Tight. Unassailable. Exactly what he liked.Exactly what I needed as armor.The memory of the motel tried to intrude—the heat, the way his mouth had felt, the moment we both stopped even though neither of us had wanted to—but I shoved it down and stood.Business first.I knocked once on his office door.“Come in,” his voi
Nathan’s POVMy heart jumped when I saw Jason standing too close to Carmilla near the coffee station—too relaxed, too familiar. His fingers lifted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She leaned in slightly, murmured something I couldn’t hear.Jason smiled.Carmilla did too.It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. That was the problem.Something hot and vicious snapped inside me.“Is there a reason you’re both standing around like this is a social club?”The words were out before I could stop them—sharp, clipped, ugly.They both turned to look at me.Jason blinked. Carmilla’s brows lifted just slightly.“I was just—” Jason started.“Save it,” I cut in. “This is an office. Keep things professional. I don’t need to have to remind you both all the time.”Silence followed.Then—of all things—Jason looked amused.Carmilla didn’t look embarrassed. She didn’t look guilty. She looked… entertained. Like I’d interrupted a private joke inst
Brandon’s POV“Let’s keep this efficient,” Nathan said flatly. “We all have other fires to put out.”Natalie didn’t look up from her tablet. “Efficiency requires alignment,” she replied calmly. “Otherwise, you’re just moving fast in different directions.”I leaned back slightly, watching the exchange. This was already more interesting than I’d expected.Nathan’s jaw tightened. “And you think we’re misaligned?”“I know you are,” she said, finally lifting her gaze. “And that’s exactly why Vivian still has room to maneuver.”There it was. The quiet authority in her voice—measured, unprovocative, but impossible to dismiss.I glanced at her then, really looked. She seemed… lighter. Focused. Not coiled and braced the way she’d been lately. There was a calm in her posture that hadn’t been there before, as if something inside her had settled.Nathan crossed his arms. “Graveswell has already taken steps to contain exposure.”“Yes,” Natalie said. “Individually.”Silence stretched across the tab
Natalie’s POVI told myself I was going home.That I would shower, change into something soft, maybe pour a glass of wine and let the day finally drain out of me. That I would be sensible.Instead, an hour later, I found myself on the highway, the city thinning behind me, my hands steady on the wheel while my thoughts refused to slow.I didn’t question it. Not really. The pull was quiet but persistent, like a tide you don’t notice until you’re already ankle-deep.The lakehouse appeared just as the afternoon light softened, the water catching the sun in gentle flashes. The moment I stepped inside, something in my chest loosened. As if the place recognized me. As if it had been waiting.“Okay,” I murmured to the empty room. “I get it.”I kicked off my shoes, left my bag by the door, and opened the windows one by one. The air smelled clean—wood and water and sunlight. I moved slowly, deliberately, letting the quiet settle around me instead of fighting it.In the corner by the wide windo
Emma’s POVThe executive appreciation night unfolded like something lifted from a travel magazine—soft amber lights strung between palms, the ocean breathing quietly beyond the terrace, glasses clinking, laughter carried on warm air. Everyone looked… lighter. Sun-kissed. Effortlessly polished in linen, silk, and easy smiles.I told myself to blend in. To be professional. To not scan the crowd for one particular man.And then I felt it.I didn’t have to look to know he’d seen me—but when I did, his reaction still caught me off guard. It was brief. A mix of surprise and admiration. The way his gaze lingered half a beat longer than necessary. The way his shoulders squared, like he was grounding himself.For a second, neither of us moved.Then someone spoke to him, the moment broke, and I exhaled slowly—annoyed with my own racing heart.Get it together.Dinner passed in a blur of polite conversation and practiced smiles. I was halfway through nodding at something a regional director was







