ELENA’S POV

I almost missed it.

The elevator was closing when I slipped in—heels clicking against the floor, heart racing from the dash. I barely caught my breath before realizing I wasn’t alone.

He stood at the far corner. Dark suit. Loosened tie. Clean jawline. The kind of face you don’t just glance at, you feel it.

Our eyes met. God, those eyes. Like whiskey and midnight, deep enough to drown in. He didn’t smile. He didn’t even nod. Just held my gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

I looked away first. Embarrassed by the heat blooming under my skin. What was that? I pressed my back against the...