Chapter 2 Collusion course

Heaven adjusted the cuff of her blazer as she stepped into the boardroom, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor, the only sound in the room aside from the gentle hum of the AC.

She was five minutes early. She was always early.

A half-dozen folders sat neatly in her arm, color-coded, annotated, every number triple-checked. She placed them down and began setting up her laptop.

One by one, people began to file in department heads, analysts, two people from legal, and finally, Laura Madden from executive strategy.

Heaven's eyes flicked up. No sign of him.

Thank God.

Laura smiled warmly. "Heaven. As always, ten steps ahead."

"I try."

"We'll be starting in a moment," Laura said, checking her tablet. "We're assigning leads for the Daniels-Mavros merger portfolio. It's going to be fast-tracked aggressive timeline, a lot of late nights. I recommended you."

"I appreciate that," Heaven said, already mentally calculating the workload.

The room quieted as Laura cleared her throat. "And Heaven, you'll be co-leading with-"

The door swung open.

Heaven didn't have to look.

She already knew.

Jace Daniels stepped in, tie loosened just enough to look deliberate, a faint smirk already playing on his lips as if the universe had handed him a private joke.

"Apologies," he said casually, taking the seat directly across from her. "Traffic's a beast."

Heaven didn't react, didn't even blink.

But something inside her shifted.

"You'll be working closely," Laura continued, oblivious. "Jace brings in insight from the Daniels Holdings side. Heaven, your analytical precision is the perfect balance."

Heaven folded her hands calmly. "Of course."

"I'll leave you two to align after this. We need the first brief submitted by Friday."

Heaven nodded, barely glancing at him. Jace, however, didn't take his eyes off her.

When the meeting ended, the room emptied in waves chatter, footsteps, chairs scraping.

Heaven stood, gathering her materials with quiet efficiency.

"Looks like we're stuck with each other," Jace said, still seated.

She didn't look up. "Stuck implies unwillingness. You're free to ask for someone else."

"Nah," he said, standing. "You're the most competent person in the building. And the only one who tells me the truth."

She met his eyes now. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

"Good," she said. "Then here's some truth stay out of my way. I don't mix work with egos."

He grinned. "That's going to be a problem then."

She gave him a faint, polite smile - the kind that said this conversation is over.

But as she turned to leave, his voice followed her.

"You always wear black?" he asked. "Or is today just your villain origin story?"

She paused in the doorway, just long enough to answer without turning.

"Black hides bloodstains."

And then she was gone.

Jace stared after her, the echo of her words settling into a silence that suddenly felt charged.

He had no idea what he was getting into.

But for the first time in years, he wasn't bored.

The buzz of fluorescent lighting and the click-clack of keys were the backdrop to the kind of day Heaven hated, slow enough to think too much, fast enough to leave her breathless. Her heels echoed down the corridor as she returned from a meeting that could've been an email, her jaw tight from the energy it took to stay civil.

She barely reached her desk before a voice slid behind her like silk laced with arrogance.

"You left your laptop open. That's a cybersecurity sin, you know."

Heaven turned to see him again. Jace Daniels.

He was leaning lazily against the cubicle wall, arms crossed, that same maddening grin on his face - confident, composed, and way too amused by himself.

"And you touching it is workplace harassment," she said coolly, slipping past him and shutting the lid.

"I didn't touch it," he said, that smirk widening. "I just stared at it... longingly."

"You're not as charming as you think you are," she muttered, opening her planner.

"Mm. Women usually tell me I'm more charming than they expected."

She looked up, slow and deliberate.

"That says more about the women you attract than it does about you."

He blinked - once - then chuckled low in his throat. "You've got claws, Ms. Ofili."

"Only when provoked."

Jace stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. "Tell me something. Why do you look at me like I set your feminism back twenty years?"

She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head. "Because you stroll into rooms like they're lucky to have you, you talk like women are your entertainment, and you assume your opinion is God's gift."

He raised a brow, clearly entertained. "So you have been watching me."

"You're hard to ignore. Like a pimple before a photoshoot."

Someone walking past stifled a laugh.

Jace's grin twitched, but he held steady.

"You don't scare easy."

"Neither do I swoon," she said, rising to her feet and standing toe-to-toe with him. "So unless you're here for work, leave."

His eyes dipped - not inappropriately, but enough to make her pulse flicker.

"Right," he murmured, stepping back. "Strictly professional."

He turned and walked away.

Heaven stood still for a second too long.

Damn him.

*****

Later that evening, the office began to empty. Heaven stayed behind, as she often did, going through notes and avoiding the thoughts that came when the world got quiet. Her screen glowed, casting shadows across her face as she checked the time - 9:42 p.m.

She sighed and packed up her things, stepped out into the corridor - and walked straight into Jace.

"Again?" she said, annoyed. "Do you live here?"

"Heading out," he said casually. "Didn't know you were still working."

"Didn't know you cared."

"I don't. Just surprised you're the last one out. Again."

She shrugged and pressed the elevator button.

He hesitated. "You driving?"

She didn't answer.

"You're not," he said, more certain now. "Let me give you a ride."

She snorted. "Wow. You never quit, do you?"

"It's pouring outside," he said, jerking his thumb toward the glass windows behind them. "And I'm not letting you Uber your way into pneumonia."

She rolled her eyes but said nothing.

He waited.

Finally, the elevator dinged.

"You stay in your lane," she said, stepping in. "No talking. No flirting. No unsolicited wisdom."

He held up a hand in mock surrender. "Scouts honor."

Outside, the rain had turned into a full-blown storm. Lightning licked the clouds as thunder rolled like distant drums. Jace's car was warm, sleek, and smelled faintly of cedarwood and sin.

Heaven fastened her seatbelt like it owed her money.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. The only sound was the soft jazz playing through his speakers - unexpectedly tasteful.

"You listen to Coltrane?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He glanced at her. "You don't?"

She smirked. "I pegged you as more of a trap-beat-while-lifting-ego type."

"That's only on leg days."

Another silence. Softer this time.

"Where's home?" he asked, eyes on the road.

"North York. I'll direct you."

He nodded.

At a red light, she caught him stealing a glance. She turned to him, unimpressed. "Do you want to take a picture, or is your ego powered by eye contact?"

His smile returned. "You know... I've never met someone so determined to hate me."

"You just make it easy."

He leaned slightly toward her, voice like velvet over ice. "What if I said I enjoy the fight?"

She didn't move. Didn't blink.

"I'd say that's because you've never met someone who fights back with precision," she said. "I'm not flattered, Jace. I'm prepared."

And with that, she turned her gaze to the window - lightning reflecting off her eyes like firelight.

He didn't say another word.

But he'd never been more intrigued.