Ethan stood in the elevator, the quiet hum of its machinery barely registering as he stared at the glowing floor numbers. His mind was still back in the boardroom, replaying Lila's words over and over.
"You're not just another employee to me."
The phrase hung in his thoughts like a spark threatening to ignite something much bigger. He wasn't sure how to interpret it, and that frustrated him. Lila Devereaux was a master of control—everything about her, from her sharp words to her calculated moves, was designed to keep people at bay. And yet, every so often, she let something slip.
Was it intentional? A test? Or was it genuine—an unguarded moment from someone who didn't know how to let her guard down completely?
Ethan shook his head as the elevator doors slid open. He couldn't afford to overthink this. Lila was his boss, nothing more. But as he stepped out and made his way to his desk, he couldn't shake the memory of her eyes meeting his, the vulnerability in her tone when she admitted that he wasn't just another employee.
It wasn't the first time she had thrown him off balance. Lila had a way of commanding attention, of drawing people into her orbit whether she meant to or not. But this felt different. More personal. And that was dangerous territory.
By the time Ethan reached his desk, he had resolved to bury the thought and focus on the work in front of him. He pulled out his laptop, opened the latest set of reports, and tried to lose himself in the numbers.
But the numbers blurred together, meaningless against the backdrop of his swirling thoughts. His frustration mounted as he realized he wasn't going to be able to concentrate, not with the weight of their conversation still hanging over him.
He glanced at the clock. It was late, and most of the office had already emptied out for the night. The faint hum of the cleaning crew echoed in the distance, a reminder of how quiet the building became after hours.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. Maybe he needed a break—some distance to clear his head. He grabbed his coat and headed for the rooftop terrace, a space he had discovered during one of his late-night work sessions.
The terrace was empty, the city lights sprawling out below like a sea of stars. Ethan leaned against the railing, the cool night air brushing against his face. He took a deep breath, letting the tension in his shoulders ease as he stared out at the skyline.
For a moment, it was peaceful.
Until the sound of heels clicking against the stone floor broke the silence.
Ethan turned, surprised to see Lila standing there. She was still in her work clothes, the sharp lines of her tailored blazer and pencil skirt a stark contrast to the relaxed setting. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes scanning the cityscape as if she were searching for something she couldn't find.
"Didn't expect anyone else up here," Ethan said, his voice breaking the quiet.
Lila glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Neither did I."
She moved closer, her gaze drifting over the city lights. For a moment, they stood in silence, the distance between them both physical and metaphorical.
"I come here sometimes to think," she admitted finally, her voice softer than he had ever heard it. "It's the only place in this building where I can breathe."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, surprised by her honesty. "Doesn't seem like you're the kind of person who needs to stop and catch her breath."
Lila let out a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Everyone needs to breathe, Blake. Some of us are just better at hiding it."
Ethan watched her carefully, his curiosity piqued. This wasn't the Lila he was used to—the one who commanded boardrooms and executed deals with ruthless efficiency. This was someone else entirely, someone… human.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, his tone gentle.
Lila hesitated, her fingers tightening around the railing. "Everything. Nothing." She let out a soft sigh, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "Do you ever feel like no matter how much you achieve, it's never enough? Like you're running toward something you can't even define?"
Ethan considered her words, the vulnerability in her voice catching him off guard. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I think everyone feels that way at some point. But you don't strike me as the kind of person who lets doubt get in the way."
Lila's lips twitched, the ghost of a smile appearing and disappearing in an instant. "Doubt doesn't get in the way," she said. "It fuels me. It pushes me to be better, stronger. But sometimes…" She trailed off, her voice faltering.
"Sometimes what?" Ethan prompted, his gaze never leaving her.
She turned to face him then, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made his breath catch. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it," she admitted quietly. "If all of this—the success, the power, the sacrifices—is worth what it's taken from me."
Ethan's chest tightened at the raw honesty in her voice. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. He had seen glimpses of this side of Lila before, but never so openly.
"It's not too late to figure that out," he said finally. "You don't have to keep sacrificing everything just to prove a point. To who? Your father? The board? Yourself?"
Lila's expression hardened slightly, the vulnerability in her eyes replaced by a flicker of defensiveness. "You don't understand," she said, her tone sharper now. "I've spent my entire life proving that I belong here. That I'm capable. If I stop now, it'll all have been for nothing."
Ethan took a step closer, his voice soft but firm. "Belonging isn't something you earn by destroying yourself, Lila. It's something you deserve just for being who you are."
Her breath hitched at his words, her composure faltering for the briefest of moments. She looked away, her gaze returning to the city lights. "That's easy for you to say," she murmured.
Ethan frowned, his frustration mounting. "Maybe it is," he said. "But that doesn't make it any less true."
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken truths. Lila didn't respond, and Ethan didn't push her. Instead, they stood together in the quiet, the city sprawling out before them like a reminder of the world they both inhabited but didn't quite belong to.
For Ethan, it was a moment of clarity. He couldn't save Lila from her demons, and he couldn't force her to let him in. But he could be there, standing by her side, offering her the kind of support she didn't even know she needed.
And for Lila, it was a moment of reckoning. She didn't know what scared her more—the idea of letting someone see her vulnerabilities, or the possibility that Ethan Blake might be the only person who truly could.