You didn’t want to come tonight.

Ash had insisted. Said it was important. That this club, the one he’d poured months of deals, sweat, and obsession into, deserved to be opened with you there beside him.

So you came. Got dressed, did your makeup, showed up with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

But now, hours later, you were over it.

You’d spent most of the night at the bar, sipping a drink you didn’t want, listening to music that gave you a headache, watching Ash talk business with people. Everyone wanted a piece of him tonight. His hand had barely touched your back since you walked through the doors.

You weren’t mad. Just… done. Tired.

You slipped away quietly, heels clicking across the floor as you headed toward the coat check. Your jacket was already being handed to you when you felt it. Him. That feeling like someone just stepped into your space without touching you.

You turned and there he was.

Ash. Cutting through the crowd with that look. That don’t-fuck-with-me walk. That sharp jaw and tight mouth. Shoulders squared, jaw flexing, dark eyes locked on yours. People tried to stop him, hands on his arm, voices calling his name, but he ignored them like they didn’t exist.

He stopped in front of you. Too close. Voice low and firm.

“What are you doing ?”

You didn’t answer right away. Just looked around them and then up at him.

“I’m leaving,” you said finally. Not angry. But firmly. “I’ve been sitting by myself all night. You’re busy. I shouldn’t have come.”

His jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Put that down,” he said, nodding at the coat in your hand.

“Ash—”

“I said put it down.”

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to listen to him, but the other part, the tired one, just wanted to leave, no matter if he liked it or not.

When you didn’t budge, he sighed “Come with me.” He didn’t wait for a yes. Just turned, and you followed.

He led you through a side hallway, away from the noise. Security nodded but didn’t speak. You reached a door, Ash’s office. And he pulled a key from his back pocket, unlocked it, and opened it wide.

You stepped in. He followed, shutting the door behind you with a click.

Silence wrapped around the two of you like a heavy blanket. You looked around.

Black walls, steel shelves, and a massive desk that looked more like a weapon than a furniture. Two chairs in front of it. A tinted window overlooked the club. A couch sat off to the side. A liquor cabinet.

Then he turned to face you, jaw still tense, eyes darker now. Not angry, but locked in. Serious.