Nathaniel’s POV
Lillian froze.
I could see the war playing out in her mind, the way her fingers curled at her sides, the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. She was fighting it. Fighting me.
And I loved it.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t deny it either that she had been avoiding me. Didn’t confirm if she regretted that night.
But she didn’t need to. Her silence told me everything. I leaned back in my chair, resting my elbows on the armrests, studying her with amusement.
“You know,” I said smoothly, tapping my fingers together, “I think it’s adorable how you keep trying to act like nothing happened between us.”
She blinked rapidly. “Nothing did happen.”
I smirked. “Lillian.”
She flinched at the way I said her name, low, slow, like I was savoring it.
“Now that’s just insulting,” I continued. “We both know that night happened. I remember it. Every. Single. Detail.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
I stood up, slowly, deliberately, rounding the desk and closing the distance between us.
She stiffened, eyes darting toward the door.
Oh no, sweetheart. Not yet.
I planted a hand on the desk beside her, just enough to invade her space but not enough to touch her. Not yet.
Her scent, vanilla and something uniquely her, filled my nostrils.
She was intoxicating.
And she was terrified of how much she wanted this.
“You don’t have to run, Lillian,” I murmured, tilting my head. “We’re adults, aren’t we? We can talk about what happened like mature, reasonable people.”
Her gaze flickered, like a deer caught in headlights. She was searching for an escape. Good. I liked watching her squirm.
I leaned in just a little closer, my breath grazing her ear. “Or, if you’d rather, we don’t have to talk at all.”
She inhaled sharply.
That reaction, it did something to me.
I knew I was playing with fire. And I wanted to burn.
“Nothing’s stopping you from doing exactly what you want,” I whispered, letting my words drip with suggestion. “You could walk out right now… or you could stay.”
Her hands tightened into fists. I saw it, the moment she realized I was challenging her.
And Lillian was not the type to back down, from what I've read in her profile.
She lifted her chin, trying to appear unfazed. “I work for you. Whatever you think is going to happen won’t.”
I chuckled. “God, she is stubborn.” I thought.
“I didn’t say anything about what is going to happen.” I smirked. “But I like where your mind is at.”
She let out an exasperated breath, but her cheeks flushed.
I had her. Right where I want her. She was fighting it, but the more I pushed, the more cracks I saw in her defenses.
I dragged my knuckles down the edge of the desk, close enough that she could feel the heat of my skin without actually touching her.
“I think you’re scared,” I murmured. “Not of me. But of yourself.”
Her breathing hitched.
“You’re scared because you liked it.” My voice was softer now, coaxing. Luring her in. “You liked the way I touched you that night. The way you moaned in my ears, over and over.”
Her pupils dilated.
Gotcha.
“Shut up,” she whispered.
“Make me.”
I saw her fingers twitch.
This was it. I smirked. She was either going to give in… or she was going to…Her eyes darted to the left.
And before I could react, she whipped around me and bolted toward the door.
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
What the…
By the time my brain caught up, she had already pushed the door open and disappeared down the hallway.
I let out a low, dark laugh. “She ran.” I licked my lips, thinking about how close she was to kissing it just now.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
***
Few minutes later, my mind was made up, so I called my secretary.
“Yes, Mr. Caldwell,” she pushed the door open and called out in a soft voice.
“I want you to promise promotional letter from someone from finance. Lillian Carter.” I instructed, but when she didn't move an inch, I looked up again. “You have a task.”
My voice was cold, I didn't like being defied.
Everyone knows that, but doesn't seem like this one does. She is new after all.
She cleared her throat, “I didn't know we were hiring, sir.” She clutched the iPad onto her chest.
I glanced at her briefly before returning to my screen, “We aren't. I am. I already sent the template to you, use it and get it done.”
She nodded and left me.
My mind wandered back to Lillian. Her beautiful face and figure. She looked equally beautiful as she was without clothes and I knew it was only a matter of time before I get to see it again.
“The cat and the mouse, uh.” I chuckled and returned to my work.
Few minutes later, my secretary made it know that she had carried out the task I gave her.
Now, I need to wait.
She will react, that was certain.
What I didn't expect was how soon it would be.
“No, you can't go in there…” I heard my secretary’s frustrated voice as footsteps matched towards my office.
I bit back a smile.
So soon, baby. So soon.
“You don't tell me what to do, get out of my way!” She sounded so fierce, I anticipated what the look on her face would be.
The door pushed opened and the smile dropped from my face as I saw her.
It was pure, unbridled anger.
“Sir I tried…”
I cut off my secretary, “Leave us.”
She breathed harshly. “Fine!”
Oh boy, was she angry?
Nathaniel's POVThere are some places that stop time... not because of where they are, but because of what happened there.For me, it was this rooftop.The same rooftop where I first sat across from Lillian and realized I was royally screwed.Not because she was beautiful... though God, she was. But because something about her saw me.Not Nathaniel Caldwell, heir to a crumbling empire.Just… me.Tonight, the wind was gentle. The skyline sparkled like it was trying to impress her, the way I had on that very first real date. The table was set the same way: two flickering candles, her favorite rosé, a plate of dark chocolate-covered strawberries. Familiar. Soft.She stepped onto the rooftop in a deep green dress that stopped my breath cold.She was elegance and ambition wrapped in soft curves and fierce eyes. And I still couldn’t believe she was mine.“You brought me back here?” she said, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she walked toward me.I stood, reaching for her hand. “Seemed fitt
Lillian's POVAfter everything we had said... everything we had unpeeled from the past like old memories finally left to heal... Luca stood up dramatically and stretched his arms above his head.“Well,” he announced with the flair of a Shakespearean actor, “this emotional rollercoaster has done unspeakable things to my manicure. I must retreat to my lair before I start caring too much.”I snorted. “You care more than you admit.”He gasped. “Lies and slander. I'm telling HR.”Diana rolled her eyes, standing up after him. “Let me walk you out before you sue someone.”As she followed him to the door, I caught the teasing lilt in her voice... the way her fingers brushed his arm a little too familiarly. When he opened the door, she lingered in the threshold.“You still owe me a date, Luca.”He winked. “And you still owe me your cheesecake recipe.”“You’re not getting it.”“Then I’m taking you out twice.”Their voices faded into the hallway, laughter echoing. And for a second, I just stood
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Lillian's POVThere’s a sound to success.It’s not the click of champagne glasses or the applause echoing through a launch venue.It’s the moment you look around and realize... you did it.That soft, internal exhale when the weight finally lifts off your chest.That’s what I felt as I stood backstage at the Conrad Hotel ballroom, the venue humming with anticipation. From where I stood behind the curtain, I could hear the buzz of the crowd... journalists, entrepreneurs, and industry leaders all gathered for the unveiling of Revive, my consultancy firm’s flagship project.My dream.My damn dream.And it was finally alive.But getting here had been anything but easy.After the fallout with Rachel, the false accusations, the arrest, the court case, and Adrian’s shadow always lurking, I could’ve disappeared. I could’ve decided it was enough.But I didn’t.Because I’d already learned how to stand when the world tried to shove me down.So I reassembled my dream team... everyone I could trust
Lillian's POVI was halfway through my coffee and mentally outlining a partnership pitch when my phone buzzed... once, then twice, then twenty times in rapid succession.I frowned and picked it up.Breaking: Rachel Voss Accuses Rising Star Lillian Carter of Intellectual Theft.I blinked. Then laughed.No. No way.The audacity hit me before the caffeine could.I clicked into the article, scanning quickly. There it was... in all its self-righteous, manipulative glory. A headline screaming that I, Lillian Carter, had “built a business off the stolen blueprints of Voss & Co.” The article quoted Rachel word-for-word:“We’ve seen our models duplicated without credit. It’s disheartening when women tear other women down in a competitive space instead of building together.”She really played the sisterhood card?I stared at my screen in disbelief. My vision blurred, not from tears... but from rage.She was reaching. And I was done being polite.Nathaniel called just as I was slamming my laptop
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