The Vosstech innovation lab glowed under the bluish light of digital projections and data screens. It was nearly midnight. Everyone else had gone home hours ago—but Stephanie was still there, determined not to fail.
Her hair was tied in a loose bun, strands falling over her cheek as she scrolled through system blueprints and research contracts. Her blazer was folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed slightly. She tensed.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
"You're still here," came Nathan's voice, smooth and quiet, like velvet against glass.
She didn't turn. "I could say the same."
He walked around her desk slowly, glancing at the cluttered table. "You're working yourself to the bone over a test you think was designed for you to fail."
"Wasn't it?" she asked without blinking.
Nathan's jaw flexed. He looked at her, really looked at her. The determination in her eyes. The fire in her shoulders, even when exhausted.
"I didn't think you'd take it this far," he murmured.
Stephanie leaned back in her chair, staring at him. "That's the problem with powerful men—you underestimate women who weren't born with golden names and thick trust funds."
A beat passed.
Nathan stepped closer. "I don't underestimate you, Stephanie. I just don't trust anyone."
"Well, I've never needed protection." She crossed her arms. "My mother made sure of that."
Something flickered in his gaze. He stepped around the desk until he stood directly in front of her. Too close. The tension pulled like a wire between them.
"You shouldn't have had to protect yourself from your own family," he said quietly.
Stephanie looked up at him, her throat tightening at the unexpected tenderness in his voice.
"Neither should you," she whispered back.
Nathan stilled. The air between them changed. His hand, hesitant, brushed a strand of hair from her face. She didn't flinch. She didn't pull away.
His fingers lingered against her cheek.
Their eyes locked. His face inched closer. Her lips parted slightly.
The silence trembled.
Then—
"Nathan?"
Damien's voice rang through the lab.
They both jumped apart. Stephanie stood abruptly, cheeks flushed. Nathan's expression turned to stone in an instant.
Damien strolled in with two cups of coffee. He paused, glancing between them with a lazy grin.
"Am I interrupting something… steamy?"
"Leave," Nathan said curtly.
"Relax, cousin." Damien handed one cup to Stephanie, who accepted it reluctantly. "Just thought Quinn here might need a break." He glanced at her. "You're working too hard. You could use someone in your corner."
Stephanie's voice was even. "And you think that someone is you?"
"I'm far more fun than the Ice King over there." Damien winked at her. "And I don't bite unless asked nicely."
Nathan's jaw tightened. "Enough, Damien."
Damien smirked and raised his hands in surrender. "Sure. But don't say I didn't offer help when she walks into my office instead of yours."
He left, his laughter echoing down the hall.
The silence returned, but the moment between them was shattered.
Stephanie picked up her notes. "I should get back to this."
Nathan didn't stop her. But his voice, low and unreadable, cut through the quiet.
"He's dangerous, Stephanie."
She paused. "And you're not?"
She didn't wait for an answer as she turned back to her work. But Nathan stayed longer than necessary, his eyes fixed on her with a tension he couldn't name.
Later that night, Nathan stood in his private study, staring at the old photograph of his parents—his father's arm slung protectively over his mother's shoulder, unaware of how short their time would be.
Stephanie's face haunted his thoughts. Her fire. Her refusal to bend. The look in her eyes when she spoke of her mother.
"I've never needed protection."
And yet—he wanted to protect her anyway.
He never got to protect the people he loved before.
Maybe this time… would be different.