Chapter 5

Lia’s POV

When I walked into the office that morning, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit me before I even reached my desk.

Then I saw it—sitting right in the middle of my workspace.

A sleek black cup. My name written on it in clean, bold handwriting.

And beneath it, a small folded note:

“Don’t forget to breathe today. — L.H.”

Lucien Hayes.

For a moment, I just stared at it. My fingers hovered over the note, heart tugging in a way I wasn’t ready to admit.

No one had written me a note in months. Not since Ethan.

But this one didn’t sting—it soothed.

I took a sip. The coffee was perfect—black with two sugars, just the way I liked it. The realization made something in my chest tighten. I’d never told Lucien my preference. Which meant he’d noticed.

That detail felt dangerously intimate.

---

Later that morning, the office buzzed with quiet chaos. We were finalizing an investor campaign, and Lucien had insisted on being directly involved. I spent most of the day shadowing him—reviewing drafts, arranging meetings, fixing details no one else noticed.

He worked differently than Ethan. Ethan commanded. Lucien collaborated.

With him, silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was focus.

By 6 p.m., the rest of the team had gone home, but I stayed behind to finish the presentation slides. The faint hum of the city filtered through the glass walls.

Lucien’s voice broke the quiet. “Still here?”

I turned. He was standing by the doorway, jacket slung over one arm, sleeves rolled up again. His tie hung loose, and his hair looked slightly undone—like someone who didn’t realize how attractive he was when he stopped trying.

“I wanted to get the final edits done,” I said, shutting my laptop. “It’s easier when the office is quiet.”

He smiled, faint but genuine. “You remind me of myself a few years ago.”

I arched a brow. “Working too hard?”

“Running from something.”

The words landed heavier than he probably meant them to.

I looked away, forcing a small laugh. “I’m not running.”

He stepped closer. “You’re lying,” he said softly. “You have that look. The one people get when they’re trying to convince themselves they’re fine.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

How did he see me so easily?

I turned back to my desk, pretending to rearrange papers. “Maybe I just believe in starting over.”

He didn’t push. He just nodded. “Good. Starting over takes courage.”

There was warmth in his tone—no pity, no curiosity. Just understanding. The kind that doesn’t demand an explanation.

---

We ended up walking out together. The building was quiet, the air outside crisp with the faint scent of rain.

He offered to drive me home. I hesitated, then nodded. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the lingering comfort of his words, but I didn’t want to be alone tonight.

The drive was peaceful. Music played softly—instrumental, something haunting and beautiful.

Halfway through, he spoke. “You changed your name.”

I froze. “Excuse me?”

He glanced at me briefly, eyes steady. “Your résumé said Lia Hart. But when I signed your paperwork, something didn’t add up. The timeline, the references… they were too clean. Too perfect.”

My pulse spiked.

He noticed but didn’t look away from the road. “Relax. I’m not accusing you of anything. I just… recognize the need to disappear.”

I let out a slow breath, my chest tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiled faintly. “Maybe not. But I know what it feels like to lose everything you built—and to want to be someone new.”

That silenced me.

I turned my gaze to the city lights outside, my reflection faintly visible in the window. “Why did you start over?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He hesitated. “Because sometimes power costs more than love can afford.”

I looked at him then—really looked. There was something raw behind his calm, something unspoken that mirrored my own scars.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was… grounding. Like we were two broken souls quietly acknowledging each other’s ruins.

When we reached my apartment, I thanked him and reached for the door handle. But he stopped me, his voice low.

“Lia.”

I turned. “Yes?”

His gaze held mine, steady and unreadable. “You don’t have to keep running from your past. You just have to make sure it doesn’t catch you first.”

Before I could respond, he added, almost as an afterthought, “See you tomorrow.”

And just like that, he was gone.

---

Inside my apartment, I stood by the window long after his car disappeared into the city.

Every word he’d said echoed in my head.

Maybe I was still running. Maybe I hadn’t stopped since the day I walked out of Ethan’s office, heart splintered, soul hollow.

But something about Lucien Hayes made the air feel lighter. Safer.

I wasn’t sure if that was comforting—or terrifying.

Because the last time a man made me feel seen…

He broke me.

And I swore I’d never let that happen again.