Chapter 4 The Storm Beneath

Wednesday morning arrived with the weight of the week already on Noah's shoulders. His commute was uneventful, his coffee hot, his tie perfectly aligned-yet he couldn't shake the tension that lingered from the night before.

He kept replaying Ethan's confession.

"I was engaged once."

Those four words cracked something open between them. Not enough to spill out anything obvious-but enough to change the air.

Noah stepped into the office to find Ethan already there, sleeves rolled, tie draped over the back of his chair. He looked tired. Or maybe restless.

"You're late," Ethan said without glancing up.

"It's 6:55."

Ethan tapped a finger on his tablet. "I changed the meeting with Mayfield to seven sharp."

"You didn't put it on the calendar."

"I just decided it."

Noah gritted his teeth but bit back the reply. "I'll bring coffee."

He turned to go when Ethan added, "Black. Two sugars. Mayfield prefers oat milk."

Noah didn't say a word. He just moved.

By 7:03 a.m., the meeting had started and Noah sat quietly taking notes at the side of the room. Mayfield was tall, charming, and clearly trying to prove something-to Ethan or to himself, Noah couldn't tell. The man leaned forward, elbows on the table like he belonged there, while Ethan sat back, calm and controlled.

"So," Mayfield said smoothly, "you're pushing the VossOS beta early? That's bold."

"It's necessary," Ethan replied. "Our competitors are running outdated architecture. If we delay, we lose our edge."

Mayfield smiled. "Still, an untested launch? Even for you, Ethan, that's risky."

Ethan didn't flinch. "We don't grow by playing it safe."

Noah watched the exchange, something sharp in his chest. Mayfield had that effortless charisma-movie star confidence with investor polish. And for all his barbs, he looked at Ethan like they shared a language no one else could speak.

When the meeting ended, Mayfield clapped Ethan on the shoulder as he stood. "Always a pleasure, Voss. Don't work him too hard," he added with a glance at Noah.

Noah forced a polite smile.

The door clicked shut. Ethan exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.

"You know," Noah said, "if I didn't know better, I'd think he was flirting with you."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "He flirts with everyone."

"Do you flirt back?"

Ethan didn't answer. He just walked back to his desk, sat, and began typing.

Noah sighed and returned to his side of the office. "Not an answer."

"No," Ethan said after a beat. "I don't."

That should've settled things, but it didn't. Something about Mayfield's grin, his familiarity, made Noah's stomach twist. Not jealousy, exactly. Not yet. But he was too aware of how easily someone like that could slip through Ethan's walls.

By noon, the office was in a quiet frenzy.

A negative review of Voss Technologies' latest software patch had dropped on a major tech blog. Investors were spooked, the PR team was scrambling, and Ethan was on back-to-back calls with legal and marketing. Noah worked nonstop-fielding calls, triaging emails, even smoothing over a furious client in Berlin.

At 3:00 p.m., Ethan emerged from his office like a man returning from war.

"Get me a meeting with Randall from DevOps. In person. Now."

Noah nodded. "Already confirmed. He's on his way."

Ethan blinked. "You scheduled it before I asked?"

"You had that look."

"What look?"

Noah smirked. "The 'I'm about to destroy someone's career' look."

Ethan didn't smile. But he didn't deny it either.

Fifteen minutes later, Randall arrived-nervous, disheveled, clutching a folder like it might protect him.

Ethan didn't even let him sit.

"You signed off on the patch without a full diagnostic."

"We-uh-we ran it through the staging-"

"And it still launched with a memory leak issue that affected over 20,000 users," Ethan snapped. "Do you understand what that does to our credibility?"

Randall looked like he wanted to disappear. "I-I'll fix it."

"You'll do more than that. You'll issue a fix tonight and send a full report to every stakeholder by sunrise. Or don't come back tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

Randall left in a hurry.

Noah watched him go, then turned to Ethan. "You could've gone easier on him."

"And what? Risk the next mistake? Let them think mediocrity is acceptable?"

"No. But people aren't robots. You can lead without crushing them."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Spoken like someone who's never been stabbed in the back."

Noah took a step closer. "You're not wrong, but you're not the only one who's ever been hurt."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither spoke.

Then Ethan looked away. "Get some air. Take a walk."

"Firing me?"

"Temporarily. You're getting too close to things that aren't yours."

Noah grabbed his phone and coat. "Right. Because emotions are dangerous."

Ethan didn't answer.

The cold wind outside cut through Noah's jacket as he stepped into the street. He walked for blocks, letting the city swallow his thoughts.

He wasn't sure what he felt. Confused? Angry? Frustrated?

No-he was scared.

Scared because something real was happening between him and a man who didn't trust anyone. A man who had everything, except the ability to be vulnerable.

What are you doing, Reyes? he thought.

But when he returned to the office around 6:00 p.m., Ethan was still there-suit jacket gone, tie loosened, typing like the world depended on it.

Noah stepped into the doorway. "I grabbed dinner."

Ethan looked up.

Noah held up the takeout bag. "Spicy udon. The kind you like."

Ethan stood, walked over slowly. "You didn't have to."

"I know," Noah said. "But I wanted to."

They stood in silence, the city lights glowing through the glass. Finally, Ethan reached for the bag and set it on the table.

"I don't know how to be soft with people," he said.

"I'm not asking for soft," Noah replied. "I'm asking for honest."

Ethan's eyes met his. "That's harder."

"I can handle it."

The moment held.

Then Ethan turned and said quietly, "Let's eat."

And for the first time, they sat side by side-two men alone in a glass tower, still figuring out what it meant to trust someone who saw through the steel.

The cold wind outside cut through Noah's jacket as he stepped into the street. He walked for blocks, letting the city swallow his thoughts.

He wasn't sure what he felt. Confused? Angry? Frustrated?

No-he was scared.

Scared because something real was happening between him and a man who didn't trust anyone. A man who had everything, except the ability to be vulnerable.

What are you doing, Reyes? he thought.

But when he returned to the office around 6:00 p.m., Ethan was still there-suit jacket gone, tie loosened, typing like the world depended on it.

Noah stepped into the doorway. "I grabbed dinner."

Ethan looked up.

Noah held up the takeout bag. "Spicy udon. The kind you like."

Ethan stood, walked over slowly. "You didn't have to."

"I know," Noah said. "But I wanted to."

They stood in silence, the city lights glowing through the glass. Finally, Ethan reached for the bag and set it on the table.

"I don't know how to be soft with people," he said.

"I'm not asking for soft," Noah replied. "I'm asking for honest."

Ethan's eyes met his. "That's harder."

"I can handle it."

The moment held.

Then Ethan turned and said quietly, "Let's eat."

And for the first time, they sat side by side-two men alone in a glass tower, still figuring out what it meant to trust someone who saw through the steel.