chapter 4:lines we can't cross

Nathan's pov

If someone had told Nathan Carter a week ago that a one-night stand would spiral into a full-blown professional crisis, he would’ve laughed it off.

He didn’t laugh now.

Olivia Bennett.

She walked into his office that morning looking like a ghost from a fever dream—stunning, composed, and completely off-limits.

He should’ve known her name that night. Should’ve asked more than just what she was drinking or if she wanted to get out of there. But he hadn’t. He’d wanted to forget everything for one damn night. Wanted to feel something—anything—other than the stress and monotony that had become his life.

Instead, he got her.

And now she worked for him.

Brilliant.

Nathan sat behind his desk, eyes locked on the spreadsheet open on his screen, but he couldn’t focus. Not with Olivia’s voice echoing in his head. Not with the image of her pale face when she walked into orientation, like she was holding herself together with thread.

Something was wrong. He knew it. Felt it in his bones.

She’d almost told him something earlier.

He replayed the moment in his office—her hesitant voice, the way her hand hovered near her stomach, how quickly she’d backed out.

He didn’t know her. Not really. But his gut told him whatever she was hiding wasn’t small.

A soft knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Come in.”

It was Clara.

Damn.

“Hey, Nathan,” she said, stepping in like she owned the place. She wore a silky maroon blouse and an overly confident smile. “Got a sec?”

“Make it quick,” he said, already regretting letting her in.

She pouted slightly but kept walking until she was sitting in the chair across from him. “So… wild morning.”

He didn’t reply.

She leaned in, conspiratorial. “You know the new girl on Strategy? Olivia?”

He forced himself to keep his expression neutral. “Yes.”

Clara twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Small world, huh? She used to work with Jason and me at Magnus. Things ended… badly.”

He arched a brow. “Is this relevant to her job here?”

“She’s—well, she’s got drama. Big time. I just figured you should know.”

Nathan’s jaw clenched. “That’s not your call, Clara.”

She blinked at his tone. “I was just trying to help.”

“If she does her job well, that’s all that matters.”

Clara leaned back, her smile fading slightly. “You’re defending her?”

“I’m being fair.”

She stood slowly, clearly picking up on his change in tone. “Just watch your back, Nathan. Some people come with baggage they don’t unpack until it’s too late.”

He didn’t answer.

Clara lingered a second longer, then left.

Nathan stared at the door long after it clicked shut.

Clara had always been like that—sugar-laced poison. And Jason? Just as bad.

But Olivia… she didn’t fit with them. Not even close.

And the way Clara was already trying to plant seeds made him suspicious.

His phone buzzed.

Matthew Hughes: “Strategy update in Conf B. Five minutes. Your input needed.”

Nathan sighed, stood, and grabbed his tablet.

---

Conference Room B was already buzzing when he arrived. The Strategy team was mid-discussion about an upcoming campaign rebrand.

He sat in the back, letting Matthew lead, but his eyes wandered until they landed on her.

Olivia.

She was seated toward the end of the table, scribbling notes in a leather-bound journal, her expression pinched with concentration—or stress.

Her fingers tapped lightly on the paper. Restless. Distracted.

Nathan couldn’t stop watching her.

She didn’t once look up.

Not at him. Not at anyone, really.

She was somewhere else entirely.

When the meeting ended, she stood quickly, gathering her things. Nathan followed the natural movement of the crowd, exiting just behind her.

“Olivia,” he said gently once they were alone in the hallway.

She froze, then turned. “Mr. Carter.”

“Can we talk?”

Her lips parted, but before she could respond, Jason appeared from around the corner, grinning.

“Hey, Liv. Got a sec?”

She tensed.

“Not now, Jason,” she said, voice tight.

Jason looked between them. “Everything okay here?”

Nathan’s jaw ticked. “We’re having a private discussion.”

Jason’s smirk faded slightly. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just trying to be friendly.”

Nathan’s voice dropped. “Try harder elsewhere.”

Jason lingered another beat, then left with a mocking little wave.

Nathan turned back to Olivia. “Are you alright?”

She hesitated. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and for a second, something flickered there—vulnerability, raw and barely held back.

“I’m managing,” she whispered.

His voice softened. “You almost told me something earlier. You can still tell me now.”

She looked away. “It’s… complicated.”

“Try me.”

But she shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Is it something I should be worried about?”

She hesitated, then whispered, “Yes. But not for the reasons you think.”

That hit him like a punch to the ribs.

Before he could say anything, she added, “Please, Nathan. Just… give me time.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. But if you need anything—anything—you come to me.”

Her eyes shimmered. She nodded, turned, and walked away.

He watched her go, heart thudding in his chest.

What the hell was going on?

---

The rest of the day blurred.

Nathan sat through two more meetings, answered a dozen emails, and reviewed three contracts—but none of it stuck.

His mind kept drifting back to Olivia.

He knew better than to get involved with employees. Knew better than to let one night mean more than it should.

But something about her stuck with him. Something about the way she held herself together while clearly unraveling inside.

He needed to know what she wasn’t saying.

And part of him was afraid he already knew.

---

That night, after most of the office had cleared out, Nathan lingered by the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office, city lights stretching endlessly beyond the glass.

He sipped from a glass of scotch, one hand in his pocket.

What if she’s pregnant?

The thought had been buried deep all day, clawing its way up every time he saw her face.

It hadn’t even occurred to him until this morning—when she looked pale and nauseous and scared out of her mind.

They hadn’t used protection. Stupid. Reckless. The kind of mistake he never made.

But he’d made it with her.

And now?

If it were true, everything would change.

His mind ran through scenarios—HR disasters, press leaks, Clara stirring gossip, shareholders questioning his judgment. His father would flip.

But the part of him that cared about image and protocol was a distant hum under something louder:

What if it’s mine?

And worse…

What if she’s facing it alone?

He didn’t want that.

Not for her. Not for the child.

Not for himself.

He finished his drink, set the glass down, and sat at his desk.

He pulled up her file.

Olivia Bennett.

Bachelor’s in Marketing. Two internships, one with a major brand. Previous position at Magnus & Co. Glowing references.

No red flags.

Just one very real complication.

His phone buzzed again—this time from his assistant.

Amanda: “Clara asked if you were still here. Wants a quick word.”

Nathan stared at the message, annoyed.

Then another one buzzed through.

Unknown Number: We need to talk. Before this gets worse. —O

His breath caught.

Olivia.