Chapter 3 After Hours

There were two sides to Blackwell Innovations: the one everyone saw-the futuristic tech, pristine floors, sleek glass walls-and the one that came alive after hours, when the city outside darkened and the masks came off.

Tonight, Ivy Carter was in the latter.

Everyone else had filtered out of the building, their goodbyes clipped and tired. But Ivy remained at her desk, her eyes scanning Damian's packed calendar for tomorrow. Security briefing. Legal check-in. System audit. Board dinner. It was brutal.

Her job was to make the chaos look effortless. That didn't happen with a 9-to-5 schedule.

At 9:12 p.m., Damian's light was still on.

She wasn't surprised.

She took a deep breath and knocked lightly on his open office door.

"I rescheduled your call with Singapore," she said. "Moved it to Friday morning. It'll be Thursday night for them, which the CFO prefers. Also, the new security protocols go into effect tomorrow at 7:00 a.m.-keycard updates are in your inbox."

Damian didn't look up. "Why are you still here?"

Ivy blinked. "I work here."

"That's not what I asked."

She hesitated. "I wanted to make sure tomorrow runs smoothly."

He finally raised his eyes. That unreadable expression again-equal parts judgment and curiosity. The kind that made her feel like she was under a microscope.

"And you're always this... relentless?"

She smiled, slow and sweet. "I don't like chaos."

"I do."

"I know," she said, glancing at the mountain of files on his desk. "But someone has to keep you from drowning in your own brilliance."

His lips twitched.

Was that... amusement?

"Is that why you stayed?" he asked. "To save me?"

"No," she said. "I stayed because I want to learn. I want to understand how someone like you runs a company like this. And-"

She hesitated. Honesty could be dangerous. But so was playing it safe.

"-because I can't afford to fail."

Damian tilted his head, studying her.

"You don't come from money," he said, not unkindly. Just fact.

"No."

"And yet you walk into rooms like you own them."

"Someone has to."

A long silence followed.

Finally, he stood, walked around his desk, and leaned against it-closer to her than usual. The air felt electric. Charged. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, his black watch catching the low light.

"You challenged me in your interview," he said. "No one does that."

"You needed it."

"Maybe I did."

Their eyes locked.

Ivy's breath hitched.

Was he moving closer?

But then-

The lights flickered.

A warning tone echoed through the hallway. System error. Emergency protocol alert.

Damian's face changed instantly-composed, but sharp. Alert.

"What the hell-" he muttered, striding past her to his office screen. A flurry of red warnings blinked across the interface: Access breach detected. Server override attempt. Level 3 lockdown initiated.

"Someone's in the mainframe," he said. "Now."

Ivy hovered at the door. "What do you need?"

Damian snapped into motion. "Shut down the east wing manually. Override code is 971A-Gamma. Take the freight elevator-security will be locked out for thirty seconds, tops."

"On it."

She ran.

---

Ten minutes later, after sprinting down two emergency stairwells and overriding a system switchboard she didn't even know existed, Ivy returned to Damian's office breathless and wired.

The alert was contained. The breach was isolated. But it wasn't just a drill-it had been real. Someone had tried to access the classified Redhawk files.

She stepped inside.

Damian stood in the middle of his office, tie off, hair slightly disheveled. He looked like a storm in human form.

"You moved fast," he said.

"So did you."

They stood in silence. The city lights behind them framed his silhouette, casting him in silver and shadow.

"Was it Redhawk?" she asked softly.

His jaw tensed. "Possibly."

"And you think someone here...?"

"I think someone's watching us," he said. "Tracking our system. We're developing software the market isn't ready for. Whoever breaks in first controls the future."

Her heart pounded.

"Ivy," he said, voice quieter now, more human. "This isn't just a job. This company-it's part of something much bigger than me. I can't explain all of it. But you being here... it wasn't a coincidence."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he stepped closer.

"There's something about you," he said, voice low. "You don't scare easily."

"No," she whispered.

"And I don't trust easily."

Another step.

"But I trust you."

And then-without warning-he leaned in.

His lips brushed hers.

It was slow. Electric. Not a demand, but a question.

She kissed him back.

Her hands gripped the edge of his desk. His fingers slid up her arm, gentle but commanding. Every unspoken word they'd exchanged over the past week poured into that kiss-frustration, attraction, fear, fire.

When they pulled apart, the air between them was molten.

But the moment shattered when Ivy's phone buzzed violently on the desk beside them.

She glanced at the screen.

Another unknown number.

> Check your inbox. Now.

Ivy's brows furrowed. She opened her work email.

One new message. No subject. No sender.

She clicked it.

An image loaded.

Her face went pale.

It was a surveillance photo-blurry, but unmistakable. Taken through the office window.

It was her and Damian. Kissing. Right now.

Attached was a note:

> One more step, and the world finds out what your boss has been hiding.