The late-night silence in ValeTech's sleek, glass-walled office was broken only by the steady click of Ava's keyboard. Her eyes flicked to the clock—10:15 p.m.—before she refocused on the glowing screen. She was determined to finish the last of the reports, unwilling to give Dominic Vale any reason to question her competence.
She didn't notice the shadow until a smooth voice cut through the quiet.
"Do you always work yourself into exhaustion, Miss Ellis?"
Ava's spine straightened. She glanced up—and there he was.
Dominic Vale leaned against the doorframe,
arms folded, one brow lifted in amusement his tie slightly loosened, the low light glinting off the obsidian of his cufflinks. His gaze, sharp and unreadable, settled on her.
The dim light highlighted the sharp lines of his face, the dark silk of his tie a stark contrast to his crisp white shirt.
"I wasn't aware I was keeping you," Ava said, keeping her voice steady.
His smirk deepened. "You're not. But I'm a patient man. And I don't like waiting."
Ava bristled, gathering her papers. "I'm finishing up. You don't have to wait for me, Mr. Vale."
He stepped closer, the air between them charged with something electric. "Don't I?" His tone was soft, but the weight behind it made her breath catch. "You're my secretary, aren't you? That means you leave when I say so."
Ava straightened, her chin tilting up in quiet defiance. "I didn't realize being a secretary extended beyond office hours."
A hint of laughter colored his voice, low and dark. "With me, it does."
Her hands trembled slightly, but she hid them beneath the desk. "I'm perfectly capable of finishing my work without—"
"—Without my interference?" He arched a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting as if privately amused. "And yet here you are, arguing with me at nearly eleven at night. Either you're stubborn, or you like the challenge."
Ava stood, gathering her things. "I don't recall agreeing to either."
He chuckled low in his throat, a sound that sent shivers up her spine. "Come. It's late. I'll drive you."
"I can call a cab—"
"You won't." His tone was final, brooking no argument. "Let's go."
In the dimly lit parking garage, the sleek black Rolls-Royce gleamed like a predator waiting in the shadows.
The sleek black Rolls-Royce waited by the curb, gleaming under the dim glow of the streetlights like a silent predator. Dominic Vale stepped aside, gesturing for Ava to enter. His posture was as relaxed as ever, but inside his chest, something was oddly—off.
He wasn't used to this…this quiet pull he felt around her.
Ava Ellis, in her crisp white blouse and tailored skirt, moved with a grace that wasn't ostentatious, but natural—like a breeze through leaves. She climbed into the car without a glance at him, settling into the leather seat with an air of practiced nonchalance.
With a soft exhale, she rests her hand on her lap, the scent of leather and Dominic's cologne enveloping her.
Dominic slid in beside her, the door closing with a soft click. As the car glided forward, his usual mask of control was firmly in place. But inside…
What the hell is this feeling?
Her faint scent of jasmine and something faintly citrusy teased at him, subtle and maddening. She wasn't doing anything in particular—just staring out the window at the passing city lights as if he didn't exist. The usual flurry of female attention he was used to—the fawning, the fluttering, the stolen glances—was absent. She sat there like he was any other man, and it was…infuriating.
Silence stretched between them as the car purred to life and slid out onto the night-darkened streets. Ava kept her gaze focused on the passing city lights, determined not to let the crackling tension affect her.
But then his voice, low and almost conversational, sliced through the quiet. "Are you always this composed, or is it just for me?"
Ava blinked, her pulse skipping. "I don't see how my behavior concerns you."
He turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Everything about you concerns me, Miss Ellis."
For a heartbeat, the air thickened. His voice was smooth but edged with something sharper—interest, maybe, or curiosity. But beneath it all was a note of frustration, as if her calm indifference both intrigued and infuriated him.
"Sorry?..and how does that concern you" Ava said, her voice low, her chin tilted slightly"let me tell you Mr vale, I don't play games"
"Neither do I." His lips curved faintly, though his eyes held a flicker of something more vulnerable—something almost human. "But you're not a game, Ava. You're…unexpected."
Her breath caught. The rare use of her first name settled between them like a dare.