Chapter 3 The First Line Is Always the Hardest

Lina learned early in life that desire was not the same thing as safety.

One could exist without the other, and often did.

She reminded herself of that truth the next morning as she stood in front of Harrington House once again, sunlight spilling through the tall windows and dust motes dancing lazily in the air. The building felt different today-less neutral, more intimate. As if the walls had noticed her hesitation and leaned in closer, curious.

Strictly professional, she repeated silently.

She had chosen this path carefully. Years of discipline, restraint, and deliberate distance had built the life she now lived. She would not let one man-no matter how compelling-undo it.

Yet the moment she heard his voice behind her, calm and unmistakable, her resolve wavered.

"Good morning, Lina."

She closed her eyes for half a second before turning.

Kai stood a few steps away, tablet in hand, expression neutral but eyes alert. There was something different about him today-more guarded, as though he had drawn his own boundaries overnight.

She welcomed that.

"Good morning," she replied, professional smile in place. "We're reviewing the west wing today. Structural reinforcements start next week."

"Understood," he said. "I've informed the board."

Board.

The word landed like a reminder. He wasn't just a man she'd met at a gala. He was power. Legacy. Complication.

They walked side by side, discussing timelines and materials. It was easy-too easy-to slip into competence, into the shared language of work. Lina found herself relaxing despite everything, appreciating the way Kai listened without interrupting, asked questions that showed he actually cared.

"You've done remarkable work here," he said at one point, stopping to examine a restored archway. "You preserved its integrity without erasing its age."

She smiled faintly. "History deserves respect. Not replacement."

His gaze lingered on her. "You sound like someone who's learned that lesson the hard way."

Her smile faded.

She turned away, pretending to study her notes. "We all learn things the hard way eventually."

He didn't push.

That restraint unsettled her more than persistence would have.

They reached the west wing just as her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and stiffened.

Miriam.

She ignored it.

The phone buzzed again.

Kai noticed. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," she lied. Then sighed. "It's my friend. She doesn't believe in boundaries."

He chuckled softly. "Few people do."

"Some of us rely on them to survive."

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Kai's expression shifted-not curiosity this time, but recognition. "Survive what?"

She met his gaze, something sharp rising in her chest. "This is where I tell you it's none of your business."

He nodded slowly. "Fair."

They stood in silence, the unfinished walls bearing witness.

Then, unexpectedly, Lina spoke again.

"I was engaged once," she said.

The confession felt heavy on her tongue.

Kai didn't move. "Was?"

"Yes." She exhaled. "To a man who loved control more than honesty."

His jaw tightened. "What happened?"

"He cheated," she said simply. "Repeatedly. And convinced me it was my fault for not being enough."

Anger flickered across Kai's face-raw and unfiltered. "That's unforgivable."

"I forgave him," she replied bitterly. "Until I realized forgiveness without change is just permission."

Silence followed.

"Leaving wasn't easy," she continued quietly. "I had to rebuild everything-my confidence, my trust, my sense of self. So I don't do... this."

She gestured vaguely between them.

"Connections that feel like they could cost me more than I can afford."

Kai stepped closer, voice low. "And what does this feel like to you?"

Her heart raced.

"Dangerous," she whispered.

His eyes darkened. "Good."

She laughed sharply. "You shouldn't encourage that."

"I'm not," he said. "I'm acknowledging it."

She looked at him then-really looked. At the tension in his shoulders, the restraint woven into every movement.

"What are you running from?" she asked softly.

He hesitated.

Then said, "A life I didn't choose."

Her breath caught.

Before either of them could say more, Miriam's voice cut through the air.

"Lina!"

They both turned.

Miriam stood at the entrance to the wing, eyes bouncing between them with unmistakable interest.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, grin sharp.

"Yes," Lina said flatly.

Miriam ignored her. "You must be Kai."

He nodded politely. "I am."

"I'm Miriam. Best friend. Emotional support. Occasional menace."

A corner of Kai's mouth lifted. "Pleased to meet you."

Miriam leaned closer to Lina. "You didn't tell me he was that."

"Miriam," Lina warned.

"What?" Miriam shrugged. "I have eyes."

Kai excused himself with a quiet laugh, leaving them alone.

The moment he was gone, Miriam grabbed Lina's arm. "Tell me everything."

"There is nothing to tell."

Miriam raised a brow. "You're glowing."

"I'm stressed."

"You're attracted."

Lina sighed. "He's complicated."

"Of course he is," Miriam said knowingly. "The good ones always are."

"That's the problem," Lina replied.

Later that evening, Lina sat alone in her apartment, replaying the day. The way Kai had listened. The anger on his behalf. The shared vulnerability.

Her phone buzzed.

Kai:

Thank you for trusting me today.

She stared at the message.

Lina:

Don't read too much into it.

Kai:

Too late.

Her heart thudded painfully.

Lina:

This can't go anywhere.

A pause.

Then-

Kai:

I know.

She swallowed.

Lina:

Then why does it feel like it already has?

Several minutes passed.

When his reply came, it was shorter than she expected.

Kai:

Because we crossed the first line.

Her chest tightened.

She set the phone down, breath uneven.

Across the city, Kai stood on his balcony, city lights stretching endlessly before him. His phone buzzed again-this time, a calendar reminder.

Engagement Dinner – Family Estate

He closed his eyes.

Tomorrow.

He thought of Lina's laugh. Her strength. The way she looked at him like he was a man, not an obligation.

Some lines, once crossed, could never be uncrossed.

And this love-

This love was already too loud to hide.