Chapter 5 THE GLASS WALLS

The air in the office the next night was different. It wasn't just the lingering humidity of the storm; it was the weight of what had happened in the elevator. Elena felt as though she were walking through a dream, the sensation of Julian's hands on her waist still humming beneath her skin like a low-frequency vibration.

She tried to be invisible. She moved through the corridors with her head down, her mop bucket trailing a scent of pine that felt like a shield. But she was being watched.

Sarah was a veteran cleaner at Sterling Heights. She was a woman who lived for the hierarchy, a person who believed that the only way to survive was to know everyone's secrets while keeping her own behind a wall of bitterness. She had seen the way Julian Vane's eyes lingered on the 64th-floor corridors lately. She had seen the way Elena walked with a slight daze in her step.

Jealousy is a quiet poison. For Sarah, who had spent ten years being ignored by men like Julian, Elena's sudden "visibility" was an insult.

Elena was in Julian's private office, polishing the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights were blurred by a light mist. She didn't hear the door open.

"The CEO's office usually takes twenty minutes," Sarah's voice sliced through the silence. "You've been in here for forty-five, Elena."

Elena jumped, her heart hammering. Sarah was leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"I was... there were prints on the glass," Elena stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Prints? Or are you looking for something else?" Sarah stepped into the room, her gaze traveling to the mahogany desk where the origami crane still sat. "You're playing a dangerous game, girl. Men like him don't see people like us as people. We're just background noise."

Before Elena could respond, the heavy oak doors swung wider. Julian walked in.

He was in the middle of a phone call, his voice a sharp, clipped staccato as he discussed a hostile takeover. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw both women in his office. His eyes went straight to Elena, his expression softening for a fraction of a second-a tell-tale sign that Sarah didn't miss.

"I'll call you back," Julian said into the phone, hanging up without waiting for an answer. He looked at Sarah. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem, Mr. Vane," Sarah said, her voice dripping with mock-humility. "I was just telling Elena here that she needs to focus on her work. She seems a bit... distracted tonight."

Julian's jaw tightened. He walked to his desk, but he didn't sit. He stood in the center of the room, his presence making the air feel thin. "Elena is doing her job perfectly. In fact, I asked her to stay late to organize some of my personal files."

It was a lie. A protective, clumsy lie.

Sarah's eyebrows shot up. "Personal files? Since when do the cleaners handle the CEO's paperwork?"

"Since I decided they do," Julian said, his voice dropping to that dangerous, icy register. "Do you have other floors to attend to, Sarah? Or should I call the night supervisor to discuss your sudden interest in my management style?"

Sarah turned pale. She shot a look of pure, unadulterated venom at Elena before scurrying out of the room.

The silence that followed was heavy with the scent of an impending storm. Elena stood by the window, her hands trembling around the handle of her squeegee.

"She knows," Elena whispered.

"She knows nothing," Julian said, stepping toward her. He didn't stop until he was standing just outside the circle of her personal space. "She suspects, because she can feel the change in the air when I'm near you."

"Julian, you can't protect me like that," she said, finally looking at him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "You're the CEO. You just lied for a cleaner. If that gets out, they'll ruin me. They'll say I'm... I'm using you."

"Let them say it," he said, his voice rough. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm-not the navy fabric of her jumpsuit this time, but the bare skin of her wrist.

The contact was electric. Elena gasped, her pulse leaping against his fingertips.

"You don't understand," she breathed, her heart fluttering. "You live in a world of glass walls. Everyone is watching you. And I... I'm the person who cleans the glass so they can see you better. I can't be part of the view."

Julian didn't pull away. He stepped closer, his chest nearly touching hers. He looked down at her, his grey eyes stormy and desperate. He wanted to pull her to him; he wanted to tear down the glass walls and the hierarchies and the rules.

"Maybe I'm tired of being the view," he whispered.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers. The tension was a living thing, a heat that made the room feel like it was on fire. He was going to kiss her. Elena knew it. She wanted it so badly it hurt.

But then, the intercom on his desk buzzed-a sharp, mechanical intrusion.

"Mr. Vane? The board is waiting in the conference room. It's urgent."

Julian closed his eyes, his forehead resting against Elena's for one agonizing second. He let out a ragged breath and stepped back. The spell was broken, but the fallout had only just begun.

Outside, in the hallway, Sarah was already on her phone, her voice a low, frantic hiss as she spoke to the night supervisor.