บททั้งหมดของ Proximity Without Permission : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

Three Weeks EarlierAdrian Vale liked mornings before the world started asking things of her.Before the calls.Before the expectations.Before people remembered who she was and what proximity to her could mean.She stood barefoot in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her apartment, the city stretched wide and quiet below. Dawn softened the skyline, glass and steel catching light like it was being offered instead of taken. Her coffee had gone untouched in her hand, warmth fading as her thoughts drifted.Her shoulder-length bob rested neatly against her jaw, the cut precise enough that she never had to think about it. Control lived in the details. She had learned that early.Adrian exhaled slowly.This was the version of the day she liked most. When everything still belonged to her.Her phone vibrated against the marble counter.She let it ring once. Twice.Then she glanced down.Micah:You awake?A faint smile tugged at her mouth.Adrian:Always.Micah:Meeting at ten. Security

Ghosts Don’t Stay GoneThe call came just after midnight.Adrian had been half asleep, the city outside her bedroom window reduced to distant lights and movement she no longer needed to monitor. Her phone vibrating on the nightstand pulled her fully awake, instinct kicking in before irritation could.She didn’t recognize the number.That alone was enough to make her sit up.Most people who had access to her knew better than to call this late. The few who didn’t were usually filtered out quickly by assistants, schedules, or security. An unknown number meant someone had either bypassed those layers or never respected them to begin with.She answered on the third ring.“Adrian.”The voice was familiar in a way that tightened her spine instantly.Low. Controlled. Confident in a way that didn’t ask permission.She closed her eyes once.“Marcus,” she said evenly.A pause followed, heavy with history neither of them needed to explain.“I was starting to think you’d changed your number for go

Too CloseAdrian didn’t notice the shift right away.That was the most unsettling part.Her days were full, deliberately so. Meetings blurred into calls, decisions stacked neatly on top of one another, each demanding attention but none requiring panic. Control still came easily. It always had.That was why the email caught her off guard.Not because of its content, but because of who it was sent to.She stood in her office, tablet in hand, rereading the message for the third time.It was addressed to a junior executive in marketing. Copied to legal. Referenced an internal strategy that hadn’t been approved for circulation yet.And it mentioned her name.Casually. Confidently.As if the sender had authority to speak for her.Adrian frowned slightly and tapped the intercom.“Can you send Celeste in when she’s free?”“Of course,” her assistant replied.Celeste arrived ten minutes later, perfectly composed.“Hey,” she said brightly, stepping into the office. “You wanted to see me?”“Yes,”

Soft PowerCeleste Ashford had always believed control was quieter than people assumed.It wasn’t about dominance or force. It was about positioning. Timing. Knowing when to listen and when to speak just enough to be remembered. Power, real power, came from making people feel understood while guiding them exactly where you wanted them to go.That was why Adrian Vale fascinated her.Adrian didn’t posture. She didn’t demand attention. She simply occupied space with a confidence that didn’t waver, and people adjusted themselves around her instinctively.Celeste hated how natural it looked.She stood in front of the mirror of her apartment, adjusting the fall of her blazer with careful precision. Neutral colors. Soft lines. Nothing threatening. She had learned long ago that sharp edges scared people. Warmth invited them in.By the time she reached Vale Noir Group, she was already smiling.The lobby hummed with quiet productivity, employees moving with purpose, voices low, respectful. Cele

Elliot Cross did not like uncertainty. It wasn’t fear that bothered him—it was imprecision. Gaps in logic. Pieces that didn’t align no matter how many times you turned them over. Adrian was a constant in his life now, whether either of them had acknowledged it or not. He knew her routines, her tells, the subtle shifts in her tone when something bothered her but hadn’t reached the surface yet. Tonight had confirmed it. She was distracted. Guarded. And not in the way power demanded—this was personal. Elliot sat in his car longer than necessary after dropping her off, hands resting on the steering wheel as he replayed the conversation in his head. He hadn’t lied to her. But he hadn’t told her everything either. Not yet. Because instincts were not evidence. And evidence mattered. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled to a name he hadn’t contacted in years. Celeste Ashford. They had crossed paths professionally more than once. She was sharp. Observant. Present in Adri