Lyra's POV – Strategic Floor
Three weeks out from the gala, her life had reshaped itself into task lists.
She'd stopped tracking time in days. It was deadlines now. Summaries to Legal. Budget draft to Ops. Three meetings back to back and a lunch that sat untouched.
Michael kept sending her clean datasets. She returned them sharper. He never said the words, but she saw the way he passed her files first now.
She knew she was efficient.
Knew she was earning the space she'd been given.
But her body wasn't keeping pace.
The headaches crept in just after noon. The stomach turns came earlier each day. And sometimes, in the elevator. When her chest was tight, and she clutched her folder too hard.
She thought she might fall forward and not get back up.
So she pushed harder.
And hoped no one noticed the edges cracking.
---
Admin Floor
The tea went cold before she ever touched it. She'd poured it out of habit, not want—hands moving while her mind ran laps behind her ribs.
She didn't sit. Couldn't.
The breakroom felt too bright, too still. So she left.
Aniq found her later by the stairs, like she always did when Lyra started to fray.
"You've got that haunted spreadsheet look again," she said.
Lyra let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "You're imagining things."
But Talia's face didn't soften. "I know the difference between quiet and buried."
Lyra looked down, fingers tightening on the edge of the railing.
"You're skipping meals," Talia added.
"I'm busy."
"You're hiding nausea."
That made her still.
Just long enough to say too much without saying anything at all.
Talia didn't push. Her voice lowered instead. "Whatever this is… you don't have to do it alone."
Lyra's chest tightened.
"I do, actually."
And she walked away before the weight of it could settle..
---
Elevator Ride – Midweek
Lyra stepped into the elevator just before the doors closed.
She didn't look up.
But she knew.
Cassian was already inside. Flanked by Theo, suit crisp, unreadable. A junior analyst stood at the front, back stiff, pretending not to exist.
Her pulse stuttered.
The air felt thinner.
She pressed herself into the corner, folder tight to her chest. Breathing carefully, evenly. Like that could anchor her.
The veil spray had held for days.
But stress tugged it loose.
And just for a second, something slipped.
Faint. Warmer than it should have been.
Cassian's eyes flicked toward her.
Not a stare.
Not a reaction, exactly.
Just… a shift. A recalibration.
He didn't speak. Didn't move.
But she felt it.
When the doors opened on twenty, she stepped out without looking back.
---
Theo's POV – Same Elevator
He clocked the silence. The stillness.
Cassian had gone rigid. Focused.
Then gone still again.
Something passed in the air, but not loud enough for Theo to name.
He waited. Said nothing.
When the doors shut again, he cleared his throat lightly.
Cassian's hands flexed once at his sides.
Then they moved on.
---
Cassian's POV – Executive Wings
He didn't request a follow-up folder from Strategic. But one arrived anyway. Artaxis, final review edits. His pen stilled on the margin when he saw her notes.
Same hand. Same clarity.
Not flashy. Just accurate. And hard to ignore.
He sat back.
Opened the internal log on his screen. Searched quietly.
Elmont, Lyra – system log history – last quarter.
She hadn't been flagged for anything important.
He clicked out of it and leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
Then pulled up the archive requisition queue.
Typed slowly.
> Request: Hall C, Executive Penthouse – Gala Night – 11:37 PM
Reason: Cross-reference event staffing logs.
Status: Pending – internal approval required.
He stared at it.
Because the truth was..
He didn't know.
He remembered scent. Memory. A heat that didn't belong to any public guest. A moment that never resolved.
And the more he thought of Lyra.
The more the pieces wanted to fit.
But he wasn't sure.
Not yet.
And something about not knowing unsettled him more than he expected.
---
That afternoon, he passed through Strategic again.
Didn't speak. Didn't stop.
But he saw her.
Bent over a report, one hand pressed flat to the desk, the other curled around a folder like it anchored her to the world.
She didn't see him.
But his eyes lingered.
And he didn't know if what he wanted was to protect her…
Or pull her closer.