The Vosstech building stood tall against the fading sky, its mirrored glass reflecting the golden glow of dusk. Inside, the energy had dulled, with most employees having gone home for the day. But two people remained—one willingly, the other bound by threads of curiosity and fate.
Stephanie paced the hallway outside Nathan's office, her heels echoing against the polished marble floor. She hadn't intended to stay this late, but something about Nathan's behavior earlier had unsettled her. Cold as ever, yes, but there had been something behind his eyes—a flicker of worry. And the package…
She had seen it delivered earlier that day. A small black box, no label. The receptionist said it was "a private delivery" and placed it directly on Nathan's desk. He'd gone pale the moment he saw it, even if he'd masked it quickly.
She turned to knock, then hesitated. Maybe it wasn't her place.
But then the door opened.
Nathan stood there, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. His eyes flicked over her with that same unreadable sharpness, but tonight, the edge seemed duller—exhausted.
"I didn't realize anyone else was still here," he said.
Stephanie raised an eyebrow. "You told me to stay late to finish the research for the integration proposal. Remember?"
"Right," he murmured, then stepped aside. "Come in."
The office was dim, lit only by the amber desk lamp. That small black box lay unopened beside his laptop.
Stephanie's gaze drifted to it. "What is it?"
Nathan followed her line of sight, jaw tightening. "Something I didn't expect. Or want."
She waited for more, but he turned and walked toward the window, staring out at the city like it held answers he'd rather not face.
"Do you always keep things to yourself?" she asked, crossing her arms. "You pretend you're made of stone, but you're unraveling. And frankly, I'm not sure why I care."
Nathan turned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You shouldn't."
"But I do," she snapped, then bit her lip. "Which is stupid, I know."
Nathan stared at her for a long moment. "You remind me of someone."
Stephanie blinked. "Who?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."
Before she could press further, a knock interrupted them. They both turned as the door creaked open—revealing Damien.
"Hope I'm not interrupting," he said smoothly, though his eyes lingered too long on Stephanie.
"You are," Nathan replied without hesitation.
Damien chuckled. "Then I'll make it quick. Father wanted me to remind you about the board dinner this weekend. Said it's important."
"I haven't forgotten."
Damien glanced at the black box on the desk. "Ah. You got it."
Stephanie looked between them. "Got what?"
Damien ignored her and met Nathan's eyes. "You're not really going to open it, are you?"
"I haven't decided."
Damien gave a short laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You know what's inside. Or you wouldn't look like you've seen a ghost."
"I said I'll deal with it."
Damien nodded. "Right. Just remember who sent it."
He looked at Stephanie then, his voice suddenly low. "Be careful who you trust, Miss Quinn."
Then he walked out, leaving tension coiled in the room like a wire pulled too tight.
Stephanie stared at the door. "What the hell was that?"
Nathan rubbed his temple. "Family business."
"I thought Damien was your cousin?"
"He is. His father—Victor Voss—is my uncle."
Stephanie turned toward him sharply. "The same uncle who became your guardian after your parents died?"
He nodded once.
Stephanie swallowed. "You trust him?"
Nathan's silence was answer enough.
A long pause followed. Then Stephanie stepped closer. "Nathan… I heard something."
His gaze snapped to hers.
She hesitated. "Earlier, in the hallway. Damien was talking to someone on the phone. He said—he said you're getting too close to the truth. That 'he won't make it to his birthday if we don't act fast.'"
Nathan stilled. For a moment, there was no movement, no sound. Then he turned slowly toward the box.
"They're scared," he murmured.
"Of what?"
Nathan's voice was low. "That I'll survive long enough to take back everything that belongs to me."
His eyes met hers, stormy and raw. "They killed my father, Stephanie. They killed him—and now they want me gone before I turn twenty-eight and inherit everything."
Stephanie's breath caught. "You… you think Damien and his father killed your parents?"
Nathan looked away, but his silence was damning.
Then something shifted. The mask slipped. For a single breath, Nathan Voss looked broken.
Stephanie stepped forward, touching his arm. "You don't have to fight alone."
He looked down at her hand, then up at her. And for once, the coldness thawed—just a little.
Their faces were inches apart. Her breath caught as his hand lifted slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine.
"Nathan…"
"I told myself I wouldn't get close," he whispered. "But you… you make it hard."
Their eyes locked. His hand lingered at her cheek.
She tilted her head up, lips parting just slightly.
And then—
BANG.
The office door slammed shut from the wind, breaking the moment.
Nathan pulled away sharply, clearing his throat. "You should go home."
Stephanie blinked, trying to gather herself. "Right. Of course."
But as she stepped away, she said, "You're not the only one with ghosts, Nathan. I know what it's like to protect yourself—because no one else ever did."
Nathan watched her go, silent.
Once the door clicked shut behind her, he turned back to the black box.
With a deep breath, he opened it.
Inside was a photo.
His parents… and a man standing behind them, blurred but unmistakable.
Victor Voss.
Nathan's jaw clenched.
"So it was you all along."