Crossing Lines

CHAPTER 11

The office smelled like coffee and anxiety that morning.

I arrived early, clutching my bag like a lifeline. My hands were shaking. Not from nerves alone. From everything. Ivy. Reign. The Henderson deal. The way my chest had felt yesterday, tight every time he stood close.

I pressed my palm against my heart. Calm down. Breathe. Just… breathe.

But I couldn’t.

Ivy’s words still echoed in my mind. Mistakes are costly. Especially when people are watching.

And Reign’s subtle reassurances. You’ll handle it.

Two extremes. A storm I had to navigate. And somehow, I had to survive.

Reign appeared as I was double-checking my emails. Leaning against the doorway. His expression calm, sharp, and unreadable.

“Morning,” I said softly.

“Morning,” he replied. But his eyes were on me longer than usual. Assessing. Protective. Something else—dangerous and warm at the same time.

I looked down at my notes. “Henderson updates are ready for the afternoon meeting.”

“Good.” He stepped closer, just a fraction. Enough to make my pulse spike. “And… Maya.”

“Yes?” My voice barely above a whisper.

He paused. Tilted his head. “Don’t let yesterday make you nervous. You did fine. Better than fine.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. My chest fluttered. My brain short-circuited. I swallowed. “I’ll… try.”

He gave the tiniest nod. Encouraging. Silent. And then he was gone, leaving that warmth lingering. Dangerous. Distracting.

The morning passed in a blur of emails, calls, and tiny crises. Ivy wasn’t here, but I felt her presence. Always. In the hallway. In the whispered conversations. In the glare of the board analysts.

I tripped over my own words in a call with Henderson’s team. Corrected myself. Tried not to blush.

And then, a surprise.

“Reign wants you in his office.” Evan’s voice sounded casual, but there was an edge. Concern? Mischief? I wasn’t sure.

I froze. My stomach tightened. Followed him down the hall, notes clutched like armor.

Reign’s office door opened before I could knock. He was there, standing by the window, hands in his pockets, eyes focused somewhere outside. His posture… intimidating. Perfect. I swallowed hard.

“Maya,” he said without turning. “Sit.”

I obeyed. My legs bounced under the desk like I was still thirteen.

He finally turned. The expression he wore… soft? Just slightly. Vulnerable, almost. Then gone. Controlled. Dominant. Dangerous.

“I wanted to check on you,” he said. “See how you handled Henderson yesterday. And… today.”

I blinked. “I… I think it went okay.”

“You think?” He stepped closer. Too close. I swallowed. My pulse spiked. “Maya, you were sharp. Focused. Impressive. Don’t downplay it.”

I looked down at my hands. Couldn’t speak. Not yet.

He leaned against the desk, near enough that our knees almost touched. “You notice things. Small things. That matters. That… matters to me.”

Heat rushed through me. My chest felt tight. I couldn’t breathe fast enough. I didn’t know if it was nerves, excitement, fear… or all of it.

The office phone rang, cutting through the tension. Reign answered, voice controlled. Business. Sharp. Cold.

I tried to focus on my notes, but my thoughts kept drifting. To him. To the warmth of his presence. To the way his gaze lingered just a second too long.

And then… a slip.

I misread a note in the Henderson files. Just a small thing. But enough to make me flinch.

Reign noticed. Of course, he noticed.

“Maya,” he said, calm but firm, leaning closer. “Check that line again. Numbers don’t lie.”

“Yes… sir.” My voice trembled slightly.

But his proximity… the warmth… the subtle brush of his hand near mine as he pointed at the screen… my chest fluttered uncontrollably.

Focus. Work. Don’t… I couldn’t. Not with him this close.

By lunch, the tension was unbearable. Ivy wasn’t in the office. Probably plotting. Watching. Waiting. And I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Then Reign appeared again, holding two coffees. He set one on my desk. “Thought you might need a break.”

I blinked. Stared. “I… thank you.”

He gave the tiniest smirk. “You’re learning fast. But don’t forget—you need fuel. And focus.”

I wanted to ask him why he kept coming by. Why he stayed near me. Why… everything about him made my chest ache. But I didn’t.

Instead, I drank the coffee, trying to calm the fluttering in my stomach.

The afternoon brought the real challenge. Henderson’s follow-up meeting. Ivy’s first direct interference.

The conference room was tense. Board members. Analysts. And her—leaning in the corner, smirk perfectly in place, eyes sharp.

“Good afternoon,” I said, voice steadier than I expected. “I’ll be presenting the Henderson updates today.”

Ivy tilted her head. “Oh? How… bold of you.”

I froze. Bold? Or stupid? My stomach twisted.

Reign was there, standing just behind me. Hands folded. Watching. Subtle reassurance. Protective.

I took a deep breath. “The discrepancy from yesterday has been corrected. All numbers verified. Projections updated. The merger can proceed as scheduled.”

A few skeptical looks. A few notes passed. And Ivy… smirked. Slightly. Not enough to intimidate me this time.

Then came the board’s questions. Sharp. Probing. Some even tricky. Ivy’s presence amplified every tiny mistake I thought I made.

I faltered once. Caught myself quickly. Heart racing.

Reign’s subtle nod. Just once. Silent. But it anchored me. Kept me steady.

By the end, I realized I hadn’t just survived. I’d… held my ground. Even Ivy’s smirk didn’t faze me.

Afterward, I slumped in my chair back at my desk. Hands shaking. Pulse loud. Adrenaline still pumping.

Reign appeared again. Silent. Watching. Smiling just enough to make my chest flutter. “You did well today,” he said softly. “Better than well. You handled pressure, distraction… and Ivy.”

I wanted to say something. Something intelligent. Clever. Flirtatious even. But my words got stuck in my throat.

Instead, I whispered, “Thank you.”

He nodded. Just once. Small. But enough.

Later, as I packed up to leave, a sense of exhaustion hit me. Not just physical. Emotional. My chest was tight, my mind spinning. Ivy. Reign. Me. This storm that had become my life in just a few days.

I glanced at the elevator and hesitated. And somewhere in that pause, I realized… I liked the storm.

The thrill. The tension. The danger. The way it made me feel alive.

Reign caught my gaze one last time before I stepped into the elevator. That look… protective. Warm. Personal. Dangerous.

And I shivered. Not from cold. Not entirely.

Because I knew… crossing lines wasn’t just about work.

It was about hearts. And territory. And maybe… desire.

And somehow… I was already in deeper than I should be.