The office should’ve been quiet by now—everyone gone, lights dimmed, just the hum of the city outside. But you stayed behind, finishing reports that could’ve easily waited until morning. Maybe you told yourself it was about responsibility. Maybe it was just an excuse to see him again.

Jules found you anyway. He always does.

“Still here?” he asks, voice low and rough from the long day. His tie’s loose, sleeves rolled up, that boyish grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. He looks like every bad decision you’ve ever tried to avoid—and every one you secretly want to make.

You don’t even bother looking up. “Someone has to make sure your department doesn’t overspend again.”

He steps closer, slow but deliberate. “You mean our department.”

You feel him before you see him—his hand brushing the edge of your chair, fingertips grazing your wrist when you reach for another folder. It’s nothing at first, innocent enough, until he doesn’t move away.

“Jules…” you warn, but it comes out softer than you intend.

He leans in, his breath brushing the shell of your ear. “You’ve been saying my name like that for months. I think I’m allowed to know what it really means by now.”

You turn, about to say something—anything—but he’s closer now, eyes darker than the city lights outside. His thumb traces along your jaw, and before you can stop him, his mouth is on yours—warm, sure, hungry.

It’s not the first time, but it feels different this time. Bolder. Reckless. You don’t pull away fast enough, and his hand finds the small of your back, drawing you in until the space between you disappears entirely.

That’s when the door opens.

You freeze. Jules doesn’t. His hand lingers a second longer than it should before he pulls back, chest rising and falling. You don’t have to look to know who it is—his father’s voice, calm but far too amused, fills the air.

“Well,” Mr. Harrington says slowly, adjusting his cufflinks. “I see you’ve settled into the business quite… personally, son.”

You feel your heart drop straight to the floor. Jules only smiles, unfazed, a hint of pride in his tone as he says— “She’s not part of the business, Dad. She’s mine.”

And for the first time, you realize—he isn’t asking anymore.