One Step Deeper

I spent the next hour turning Jakob’s words over in my mind.

You’re not as fragile as you’re pretending.

He had said it like a warning and a challenge at the same time. Something sharp settled low in my stomach. He was already looking closer than I wanted him to. That meant I needed to move carefully—and faster.

I waited until the house settled into its afternoon quiet, then walked to his study and knocked once.

“Come in.”

Jakob sat behind a wide dark desk, sleeves still rolled, his green eyes lifting the moment I stepped inside. The room smelled like him—clean and expensive. Papers were stacked with military precision, and a single glass of water sat untouched near his right hand. Everything about the room said control.

I closed the door behind me and kept my expression soft. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not.” He leaned back slightly. “What do you need?”

I stayed near the door for a moment before walking toward his desk.

“I don’t want to owe you anything,” I said. “You’ve already given me a place to stay. That’s more than enough.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “And?”

“I want to work. At Prescott & Co. Even something small. I need to earn my keep.”

Jakob studied me for a long moment, his gaze sharp enough to make me feel as though he could see beneath every carefully chosen word.

“You understand what kind of company this is?”

“I understand it’s yours.”

A flicker of something—amusement, or maybe respect—crossed his expression and disappeared just as fast.

“It’s not a place for people who need hand-holding,” he said. “The work is demanding. The people are worse. Most of them will assume you’re only there because I allowed it.”

“Then I’ll prove them wrong.”

His gaze held mine.

“You think you’re ready?” He asked.

“I think I’d rather try than sit in this house doing nothing.”

He considered me for another moment. “All right,” he said finally. “You’ll start tomorrow. You’ll report to me directly until I decide otherwise.”

Relief and something sharper moved through my chest at the same time.

Legitimate access. A reason to be inside the machine instead of only living under its roof.

“Thank you,” I said, and meant the words more than he would ever know.

He gave a short nod. “Don’t thank me yet. If you can’t keep up, you’re out. No second chances.”

“I understand.” I turned toward the door.

“Rhea.”

I looked back.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

I gave him a small smile. “I won’t.”

I left the study with my pulse steady and my mind already turning. One step deeper. One more door unlocked.

I didn’t make it far down the hallway before Owen appeared from the opposite direction. He stopped when he saw me.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

His eyes searched my face. “I heard you talking to my dad. You’re really going to work at Prescott & Co.?”

“Yes.” I hesitated. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” His answer came too quickly.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a boundary.”

“Rhea, no. You didn’t.”

He stepped closer. I didn’t move. The familiar scent of his cologne reached me, and something old twisted painfully beneath my ribs. I hated that my body still remembered him.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

His jaw tightened. “For everything.”

I let out a light scoff. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No. I want to hear you say it.”

His eyes dropped. “I should have defended you.”

My chest tightened. “You knew what happened. You knew I needed you, and you said nothing.”

“I’m sorry Rhea.”

“That’s all you have? You’ve said that already.”

“I was a coward.” His voice was rough. “I chose my father’s approval over you,” he continued. “I chose the easier thing, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”

For one dangerous second, my anger slipped. Not because I believed he deserved forgiveness. Because I remembered the boy who used to make me laugh—the boy who knew every version of me before he became the man who stood there and said nothing.

I softened my expression.

“You hurt me, Owen, I don’t know if I can forget what happened.”

“You don’t have to.”

His voice cracked. “You can hit me. Do whatever to me. Just… don’t hate me.”

There it was. The opening. I could give him what he wanted. Not forgiveness—hope.

“I don’t hate you.”

The relief on his face was immediate, and it made me feel sick.

“Maybe we can stop being enemies.”

He reached for my hand. I let him take it.

“Does that mean there’s a chance?”

I gave him the smallest smile. “Maybe.”

That was all he needed. He stepped closer, hesitated, then touched my cheek. I didn’t pull away.

He finally kissed me, I allowed it. For a few seconds, I let him believe the past was finally loosening its grip. I even kissed him back. But beneath the softness, my mind remained painfully clear.

Let him believe you.

Let him think he’s getting you back.

People talk when they think they’re loved.

When I pulled away, he looked at me like he had been given something precious.

He looked at me, breathless and whispered, “I missed you.”

I forced a small smile. “I know.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

I nodded. He walked away wearing a smile. I waited until his footsteps disappeared before my smile fell and I returned to my room.

The moment the door closed behind me, the smile fell from my face. I leaned against the door and shut my eyes.

I could still remember the warmth of his mouth. I hated that. I hated that some part of me had responded without needing to be told.

I walked to the mirror.

“Focus, Rhea.”

I stared at my reflection. This wasn’t about Owen. He was simply another door. And I had just convinced him to open it.

That thought steadied me. At least, it did until late that night.

A soft knock sounded against my bedroom door. I frowned, and opened it.

Jakob stood in the hallway, still in the black shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His eyes moved over my face. He didn’t speak immediately. I wondered if he could see the uneasiness I hadn’t managed to hide completely.

Then he spoke, voice low and even.

“We start at eight tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t be late.” He held my gaze for another second. Then he turned and walked away. I watched him disappear down the hallway before closing the door.

I leaned against it, my heart slamming against my ribs.

He had seen something. I just didn’t know what. And that unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.