"The Line I shouldn’t have crossed"

CHAPTER 5

I came in early the next morning.

Mostly because I couldn’t sleep.

My brain kept replaying the moment from yesterday—the way he’d asked, 'Who looks out for you?' like it wasn’t just a question but something heavier.

Something he shouldn’t have said.

Something I shouldn’t have felt.

I tried to shake it off as I walked into the office, but the moment I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong.

The lights were on.

The blinds were half-open.

And Reign was already there.

He never arrived before eight.

But it was barely seven-thirty.

He stood by his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled, staring at a stack of documents like they’d personally offended him.

“Good morning,” I said.

He didn’t look up. “Morning.”

His voice was low. Flat. Tired.

I set my bag down carefully. “You’re… early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Oh.

Same.

He finally looked at me.

And he looked exhausted. Not physically. Emotionally.

Like whatever he’d been holding together was starting to slip.

I hesitated. “Rough night?”

“Something like that.”

He went back to the papers. But I saw the tension in his hands. The tightness in his shoulders. The way his jaw kept clenching and unclenching like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

“What happened?” I asked before my brain could stop me.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

The elevator dinged.

Evan stepped out.

Leo’s brother.

Reign’s closest friend.

The only person who walked into the office like he belonged there.

But today?

He didn’t smile.

He didn’t joke.

He just walked straight toward Reign with a face that spelt trouble.

“Maya,” he said softly. “Can we have a minute?”

My stomach tightened.

“That sounds… ominous.”

He didn’t deny it.

Reign didn’t look at me, but his jaw tightened again.

I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.

But I didn’t walk away.

They weren’t shouting.

But they weren’t whispering either.

I could hear enough.

“You should’ve told me,” Evan said, voice low but sharp.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Reign replied.

“It always matters when Ivy is involved. You know how she works.”

My blood went cold.

Ivy.

Of course.

She didn’t just show up yesterday by accident.

Something was going on.

Something bigger.

I pressed my ear—just a little—toward the door.

“This isn’t about her,” Reign said.

Evan laughed bitterly. “No. It’s about Maya.”

My heart dropped.

No.

No, no, no.

“Leave her out of this,” Reign said.

“I can’t. She’s in the middle whether she wants to be or not.”

“I’ll handle it,” Reign said.

“You can’t keep shielding people,” Evan replied. “Not from Ivy. And not from the fallout.”

Fallout.

The word felt dangerous.

Heavy.

Like it carried a warning wrapped in fire.

I stepped back fast when I heard footsteps.

The door opened a second later, and Evan came out.

He looked… conflicted when he saw me.

“Maya,” he said, softer. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

My throat tightened. “I… I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“You will,” he said. “Just… be careful.”

Be careful?

Before I could ask what that meant, Evan walked away.

Reign stayed inside.

Still.

Silent.

Then his voice came through the cracked door.

“Maya. Come in.”

My pulse jumped.

I stepped inside slowly.

He was standing by the window, hands in his pockets again, shoulders tense.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he said without turning around.

“I didn’t hear everything,” I lied.

He exhaled. “Right.”

I waited.

He didn’t speak.

Just stared out at the city like he was trying to choose his words carefully.

Finally he said, “Ivy’s not done.”

My stomach twisted. “With what?”

“With… causing problems.”

“She came for me,” I said quietly. “Not you.”

His head turned slightly. “That’s the problem.”

I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“You weren’t supposed to be involved.”

“Involved in what?”

He faced me fully now.

His eyes were darker than usual. Not angry. Not cold.

Just… conflicted.

There was something he wanted to say.

Something he was trying not to.

Finally he settled on, “She saw something yesterday.”

“Saw what?”

He hesitated.

Then he said, “The way I looked at you.”

My heart stuttered. “The way… you looked at me?”

He didn’t break eye contact.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t soften the truth.

“She thinks I care.”

My pulse was a mess.

My lungs didn’t know how to breathe anymore.

“And do you?” I whispered.

A long pause.

Too long.

He didn’t look away.

Didn’t retreat.

He just… looked at me like I was something he shouldn’t want but couldn’t stop noticing.

“Maya”, he said quietly, “I can’t answer that.”

That was an answer.

Every part of me felt it.

Before I could speak, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at it.

Something in his expression changed instantly.

Harder.

Colder.

Controlled again.

“We have to meet with the board,” he said. “Now.”

“Right,” I said, clearing my head. “Work mode.”

But as we walked toward the elevator, he spoke again—so soft I almost missed it.

“Stay close today.”

“Why?”

“Because Ivy doesn’t make random moves.”

The elevator opened.

He stepped inside.

I followed.

He looked straight ahead.

So did I.

But the tension between us?

It was different now.

Sharper.

Heavier.

Like we’d crossed a line without meaning to.

A line we weren’t supposed to cross.

A line Ivy had already noticed.

And she wasn’t done.