Stephanie stood at the front of the Vosstech conference room, the tension in her shoulders strung taut like a violin bow. Three days. That was all Nathan had given her to solve a deliberately impossible task—a test, one she suspected he'd expected her to fail.
But she hadn't.
She pressed a button on her remote, and the sleek screen behind her came alive with schematics, protocols, and encrypted data flows. "The system you provided was a stress-tested version of Vosstech's vault encryption," she began, her voice level. "What I did was build a multi-level security restoration protocol that can reconstruct and re-encrypt damaged or breached data layers without requiring a full rollback."
As Stephanie presented her encryption solution in the Vosstech conference room, she noticed Nathan's puzzled expression deepen.
"You studied art, didn't you?" he asked, breaking his silence.
A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I did. Painting is my escape. But my degree? Dual major—Cybersecurity and Digital Systems Architecture. I paint for peace… but I code to survive."
Nathan raised a brow, visibly impressed. "That's a rare combination."
"I'm a rare woman," she replied quietly, then turned back to the screen, her pointer gliding across the protocol schematics.
Nathan watched her without blinking, arms crossed over his broad chest.
Stephanie continued, pointing to the display. "Using dynamic fragmentation, I separated core data into micro-encrypted blocks that shuffle automatically when unauthorized access is detected. If someone tries to steal even a fragment—" she clicked again "—the entire structure collapses into unreadable static and reboots in a new sequence."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Finally, Nathan spoke. "And system recovery?"
"Instantaneous, unless there's internal sabotage. In that case, only users with dual-authentication can trigger re-entry," she replied. "It protects your intellectual property, secure communications, and any classified holdings—without risking a complete shutdown."
Nathan's lips parted slightly. He didn't smile. But he looked… impressed.
"Who helped you?"
"No one," she said, lifting her chin. "Just me. My notes. And a lot of caffeine."
Nathan stepped forward, the air around him thick with approval and something else—something she didn't dare name.
"You just built something our in-house team couldn't do in three months," he said slowly. "Congratulations, Ms. Quinn. Vosstech is going to sign the deal."
The following morning, Stephanie arrived at Vantage Dynamics to a whirlwind of tension.
Vosstech's legal team was already present in the glass-walled conference room, their suits crisp, their faces impassive.
But it wasn't them who made her stomach twist—it was the sight of Nathan Voss, standing near the window like he owned the sunlit skyline behind him.
And across from him, her boss—Nora Carmichael—sipping espresso like it was poisoned.
"Mr. Voss," Nora greeted smoothly. "Thank you for choosing us. I'll be handling negotiations—Stephanie was merely one of our assistants on the project."
Nathan raised a brow. "That's not what I recall."
Nora blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I asked for Stephanie Quinn," Nathan said. "She led the protocol development. She cracked the assignment. I made it clear—no Stephanie, no deal."
Nora's face twisted slightly. "With all due respect—she's young. She lacks the seniority to represent us."
Nathan's tone turned glacial. "Then I suggest you consider promoting her."
Stephanie stepped in, trying to remain composed. "Is there a problem?"
Nathan turned to her, his voice soft but edged in steel. "You're representing your company today, Quinn. Sit."
She obeyed, catching the murderous glare Nora sent her way.
The room settled into an uncomfortable quiet as contracts were reviewed. Stephanie signed carefully, answered all questions with poise, and presented her part with razor-sharp confidence. But beneath the table, her hands trembled—not from nerves but from the emotional weight of everything swirling between her and Nathan.
Nora tried to interject multiple times—offering "alternate clauses" and "clarifications" that only served to diminish Stephanie's role. Nathan shot every attempt down with cold precision.
Finally, he said flatly, "We'll move forward with the deal, as long as Stephanie leads the integration process. Full stop."
Cornered, Nora agreed.
But as the deal closed, her fake smile tightened, and she leaned close to Stephanie. "Enjoy this moment. It's the last win you'll ever get in this company."
That night, back at Vosstech's penthouse suite, Nathan stood at the window, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand as the city blinked beneath him.
"You wanted to see me?" Samson, his head of security, entered the room silently.
Nathan turned. "Any updates?"
Samson dropped a thick folder onto the bar. "Plenty. Damien's been visiting your uncle late at night. Transferring funds. Meetings off the grid."
Nathan's jaw clenched. "They're planning something."
Samson nodded. "Worse—Stephanie's name came up."
Nathan froze. "In what context?"
"Too early to say. But I caught Damien meeting someone outside a private club—female, familiar. Blonde. Actress."
Nathan's stomach turned. "Celia Winters."
Samson raised a brow. "Your ex?"
"Unfortunately."
Samson hesitated. "Do you want Quinn protected?"
Nathan didn't look up. "She's not part of the game. She was never supposed to be."
"But she is now," Samson said quietly.
Nathan exhaled slowly. "Double her security. Quietly. If they come for her, they'll regret it."
Back in her apartment, Stephanie sat curled on the couch, laptop shut beside her, her mind restless. The thrill of sealing the deal with Nathan had faded, replaced with a lingering ache—the memory of the kiss.
It wasn't just physical.
It was raw. Real. Terrifying.
And he'd left without a word.
She hadn't expected hearts and flowers—but silence?
She traced her fingers along her lips, still haunted by the ghost of his kiss.
The sharp knock on her door made her flinch.
When she opened it, there was a package waiting for her. No label. Just her name. Inside, she found a Vosstech card… and a keycard.
"New office. Vosstech Tower. Start Monday. – NV."
Her chest tightened.
So that's how he reached out now? Silent gestures?
Still, she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips.