CHAPTER FIVE: THE FIRST DAY

Aria’s POV

I stood outside the study door.

Hand on the knob. Frozen.

Button-down. Trousers. Hair in a knot that took three tries. I was dressed. Presentable.

I was also twelve minutes late.

My stomach twisted. He was going to be so pissed.

I could still feel his eyes from this morning. The way he’d looked away so fast. The way he’d said sorry like an insult.

Breathe. It’s just a room. He’s just a man.

I pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it.

Damian sat behind a desk bigger than my old apartment. Phone to his ear, face carved from stone. On the wall, a video call. An older man in a suit. Gray hair. Boardroom eyes.

“—That will be all for today, Mr. Kane,” the man said. Voice clipped. Respectful. Afraid.

Damian nodded and ended the call with one tap.

Silence slammed back into the room.

Then his gaze lifted.

And landed on me.

I stared back at him too stunned to speak.

“You’re late,” Damian said.

His tone was flat. Bored. Like I was not even worth his presence.

The dismissal in his tone scraped something raw inside me.

“I’m sorry.” The words came fast. Too fast. “It won’t happen again.”

His gray eyes didn’t blink. Didn’t thaw.

“See that it doesn’t, Miss Sinclair.”

Heat climbed my throat. I wanted the floor to swallow me.

“Cut her some slack, Ice Man.”

Luca’s voice. From the doorway.

I hadn’t even heard the door open.

He leaned against the frame, two mugs of coffee in his hands, grin lazy and dangerous. No suit. Henley. Sleeves pushed up. Like he owned the place.

Maybe he did.

Damian’s jaw ticked. “I don’t recall inviting you into my office, Luca.”

Luca just chuckled. Pushed off the doorframe and strolled in like Damian hadn’t spoken. Like the temperature hadn’t dropped ten degrees.

He stopped in front of Damian’s desk. Set one mug down with a deliberate clink. Black. No sugar. No cream. He knew exactly how Damian took it.

Then he turned to me.

And winked.

“Relax, sweetheart.” He pressed the second mug into my hands. Warm. Ceramic. My fingers closed around it automatically. “You look like you need this more than he does.”

The coffee smelled like caramel. And trouble.

Damian’s pen snapped.

The sound was small. Sharp.

But I felt it in my spine.

Luca’s smirk widened. “Now drink up and breathe, Aria. Before our CEO here blows a blood vessel.”

Damian stood.

Slowly.

“Out. Luca. Now.”

Luca chuckled. Low. Unbothered. He took one step closer to me instead of the door, Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Something dark. Expensive.

“Relax, brother.” He tapped two fingers under my chin, tilting my face up. Just for a second. Just enough. “She’s still breathing. See?”

Damian moved.

It wasn’t a lunge. It was worse. One step around the desk. Controlled. Lethal.

Luca’s hand dropped. But he was smiling when he did it. Like he’d won something.

“Five minutes,” Luca said, backing toward the door. “Try not to fire her before lunch, Ice Man.”

Then he was gone.

The door clicked shut.

And the air went out of the room.

It was just Damian and me again.

He turned to me.

“I leave for Kane enterprise in five.” His voice was flat. A statement, not an invitation. “Noah will hand over your itinerary.”

He crossed to the door. Hand on the knob.

Paused.

And then he was gone.

I stood there, coffee still warm in my hands. Caramel suddenly tasted like ash.

I was going to the office.

In five minutes.

Five minutes I didn’t have.

I shoved my feet into flats, grabbed the folder Damian had mentioned, and bolted.

The parking lot was empty.

No black Maybach. No Damian.

My stomach dropped. He left me.

Then I saw Noah.

Leaning against a matte black SUV, tablet in one hand, face blank. Dark jeans. Black tee. He looked less CEO and more… weapon.

His pale eyes lifted when I got close. No smile. No greeting. Just assessment.

“Morning,” I said. My voice came out thinner than I wanted. Too late to be polite. Too early to be brave.

Noah grunted. “He left.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Damian.” He pushed off the car. Thumb hit the unlock. Lights flashed. “Told me to bring you.”

He didn’t open a door for me. Didn’t gesture. Just walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

I yanked the passenger door open and dropped into the seat before he could change his mind. Before I could.

The door shut with a quiet, expensive thud.

Noah didn’t look at me. Started the car. Eyes forward.

“You’re late,” he said.

Not an accusation. A log.

“Damian said five—”

“He doesn’t wait.” Noah pulled out of the lot. “And neither do I.”

Silence.

Then his eyes flicked to the rearview, then to me. Fast. Measuring.

I sat up straighter.

Silence.

Then his eyes flicked to the rearview, then to me. Fast. Measuring.

I sat up straighter.

The leather seat was cold through my trousers. Too cold. Or maybe that was just me. My hands were still wrapped around nothing. I’d left Luca’s coffee upstairs. Caramel and trouble, abandoned on Damian’s desk.

Smart.

Coffee spilled in a Kane car probably counted as a fireable offense.

Noah didn’t speak.

He drove like he did everything else. Efficient. Precise. No wasted motion. One hand on the wheel at ten and two. The other resting on his thigh, tablet dark beside him. He hadn’t looked at it once since I got in.

He was watching the road.

And me.

Not in turns. At the same time. Like his brain had separate lanes for both.

I counted the clicks of the turn signal. One. Two. Three.

We merged onto the highway.

The city blurred past the window. Glass and steel and people.

I cleared my throat. The sound was too loud in the quiet.

Noah didn’t flinch. Didn’t glance over.

“Does he do this often?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Leave people behind?”

He hesitated.

“Only if they’re late.”

He said like he was stating a fact.

My cheeks burned. “I wasn’t— I mean, I know I was. But I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re explaining.” His voice cut across mine. Flat. Not unkind. Just… uninterested in excuses. “Don’t.”

I shut my mouth.

The AC hummed.

Outside, a billboard for Kane Enterprises slid past. Damian’s face, ten feet tall. Gray eyes. Stone jaw. Building Tomorrow.

I stared at it until my neck hurt.

Better than looking at the man in the driver’s seat.

Better than wondering why my pulse jumped every time Noah’s gaze hit the mirror.

His eyes found mine in the glass. Pale like winter. Pale like Damian’s, but wrong. Damian’s were a storm. Noah’s were the sky after. Empty. Endless.

He held my gaze for one second. Two.

I forgot how to breathe.

Then he looked away. Back to the road. Like nothing happened. Like I hadn’t just felt seen by someone who wasn’t supposed to look.

My hands twisted in my lap.

I chanced a glance at him. Profile sharp. Jaw set. No expression.

He could have been carved from the same marble as his brother.

But Damian was ice.

Noah was… steel. Quieter. Colder, maybe. Because ice melts. Steel doesn’t.

“You have questions,” he said suddenly.

I jolted. “What?”

“Your face.” He didn’t look over. “You’re thinking loud.”

Heat crawled up my neck again. “I’m not—”

“Save them.” He took the exit for downtown. Kane Corp tower loomed ahead, black glass cutting the sky. “For him.”

The car slowed at a red light.

Noah’s fingers tapped once against the wheel. Index finger. A single, controlled movement.

Then his eyes met mine in the rearview again.

Fourth time.

And this time, he didn’t look away first.

He held it.