Back where they can see me

The office looks the same.That’s the first thing I notice.Same glass doors. Same polished floors. Same quiet hum of movement that never really stops. Blackwood Systems doesn’t pause for people. It absorbs them and keeps going.Still, stepping inside feels different.Not heavier.Sharper.My badge scans green.That tiny sound does more for my confidence than it should.I straighten my shoulders and walk in.Heads turn—not dramatically, not all at once. Just enough to tell me I’ve been noticed. Conversations dip. Resume. Someone smiles at me a second too late. Someone else pretends not to see me at all.Good.That means the narrative hasn’t settled yet.My desk is exactly where I left it. Clean. Untouched. No passive-aggressive rearranging. No subtle erasure. Someone even restocked my notepad.I set my bag down and sit.The chair feels familiar in a way that surprises me.I log in.No restrictions.No locked access.Everything opens smoothly, like I never left.That alone tells me Adr

Last Updated : 2026-01-31

I don't share

Adrian's POVI didn’t expect jealousy to hit me in the office hallway.If I were honest, I wouldn’t expect it at all.Jealousy is inefficient. Reactionary. A waste of mental bandwidth. I’ve spent most of my adult life building systems that prevent emotional interference.Which is probably why it hits harder when it shows up anyway.I’m halfway through a conversation with legal when I see her.Iris is standing near her desk, leaning slightly against it, laughing at something Marcus said. Not polite laughter. Real. The kind that loosens your shoulders and changes the way you stand.Marcus—mid-level strategy analyst. Smart. Harmless. Married.None of that matters.My attention locks.She’s back in the office like she never left. Confident. Present. Grounded in a way that draws people toward her without effort. She’s not trying to be visible. She just is.That’s what makes it dangerous.I keep my face neutral. Nod when legal finishes talking. Say something appropriate and dismiss them. I

Last Updated : 2026-02-05

I noticed everything and I enjoyed it.

Iris's POVI don’t pretend I didn’t see it.That would be a lie.The way Adrian’s jaw tightened.The way his eyes lingered half a second too long.The way Daniel was suddenly reassigned was like a misplaced file.I noticed all of it.And the worst part?I enjoyed it.Not in a petty, *haha-I-won* way.More like… confirmation.Because for a long time, I was the only one feeling the imbalance. The one second-guessing, recalibrating, wondering where I stood.Now?He feels it too.And that shifts something.I return to my desk and sit down slowly, deliberately. I don’t rush to open my laptop. I let the moment settle in my chest.Adrian Blackwood was jealous.Not irritated.Not protective.Jealous.That’s different.I open my email and start working like nothing happened. Numbers. Timelines. Notes. My focus is sharp, but my awareness stays wide.People walk past my desk more often today. Conversations pause when I look up. It’s subtle, but I catch it.They’re watching me.Not with suspicion

Last Updated : 2026-02-05

I like bad men when they are honest

I know exactly what I’m doing when I say yes to dinner.That’s the lie I tell myself.The truth is simpler and worse: I want to see how far this goes.Not because I’m confused.Not because I’m naïve.Because I like the edge of it.Adrian picks a place he knows I won’t refuse—quiet, dim, understated in the way only men with too much power can afford. No spectacle. No audience.Just space.We sit across from each other at first. Talk about work. About my mother. About nothing important. The tension doesn’t disappear—it coils.His eyes keep dropping to my mouth.Mine keep tracking his hands.When we leave, the city feels louder than it did inside. Brighter. Too aware of us.“I can walk you home,” he says.“You can come in,” I reply.The pause between us is short but loaded.“Okay,” he says.The elevator ride is silent.Not awkward.Charged.I lean against the mirrored wall, arms folded loosely, watching him watch me without pretending he isn’t. The reflection shows us too clearly—him com

Last Updated : 2026-02-06

What blood remembers

My brother didn’t always live in my life.That’s the part people never guess.They see him now—protective, blunt, annoyingly perceptive—and assume we grew up side by side, sharing rooms and secrets and childhood scars.We didn’t.He’s my half-brother. Older by seven years. Different father. Different childhood. When our mother got sick the first time—years ago, before this version of our lives—he left school and took a job that hardened him faster than it should have.He learned early how fragile things are.Which is why he watches me like a fault line.Which is why he showed up at my door that night.Which is why this moment—this very public, very ugly moment—happens now.The event is supposed to be routine.A press briefing. A donor announcement. Something clean and respectable, with cameras and curated smiles. Adrian insisted I attend, not as his shadow, not as a spectacle—just present.“I want them to see you where you belong,” he said earlier that day.I didn’t ask who they were.