WHISPERS OF THE HEART
Thunder growled across the night sky as Becky Turner pushed through the revolving doors of the glass skyscraper, her emerald dress clinging to her rain-soaked skin. The echoes of the gala still rang in her ears...laughter, clinking glasses, whispers of deals made in the shadows. But it was the man in the center of it all who haunted her.
Ben Ratty.
Her billionaire boss, who managed to be both commanding and infuriating, had barely spared her a glance all evening. Yet, somehow, she always felt the weight of his gaze. The subtle shift of his blue eyes across the room, the way his presence seemed to pull at her even when they were separated by a sea of people, it unsettled her.
She let out a shaky breath as the elevator hummed to life, carrying her toward his office. The quiet whirring matched the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat. Clutched in her hands was the folder containing the final reports from the evening. Becky gripped it like a lifeline, hoping the neat, printed pages could anchor her amidst the storm brewing within her.
When the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, Becky hesitated, staring into the dimly lit hallway ahead. The storm outside had plunged the city into near darkness, the jagged lightning throwing sharp shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She could still hear the rain, a distant roar against the glass. Every instinct told her to turn back, to drop the reports on his assistant's desk and leave.
But she didn't. She couldn't.
Drawing a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and strode toward the heavy oak door at the end of the hallway. Pushing it open, she stepped into Ben's office.
He was there, of course, sitting in his high-backed leather chair, silhouetted against the glittering skyline. The city lights painted him in sharp contrasts, but it was his piercing blue eyes, fixed on her the moment she entered, that made her falter.
"You're late," he said, his voice cold and measured.
"I wasn't aware there was a time limit for delivering reports," Becky replied, sharper than she intended.
Ben's gaze flicked over her, lingering on the damp fabric of her dress before meeting her eyes again. "That dress," he murmured, his tone softening. "It's... distracting."
Heat rushed to Becky's face. "I didn't come here to be critiqued."
"No," Ben said, rising from his chair and rounding the desk. His movements were deliberate, almost predatory. "You came here to deliver reports. So deliver them."
Becky stepped forward and dropped the folder on the desk with more force than necessary. "Here. Everything from tonight's gala. Not that you'd care to notice the details, of course."
Ben's brow furrowed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You seem angry, Becky. Care to share why?"
"I'm not angry," she snapped, her fists clenching at her sides. "I'm just... tired of your games."
His expression shifted, his smirk fading into something more serious. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. "Games?" he asked, his voice low, his tone challenging. "What games do you think I'm playing?"
The air between them felt charged, and Becky struggled to find her footing. "You treat everyone like they're disposable. Like nothing and no one matters to you. It's infuriating."
"And yet," Ben said, tilting his head slightly, "you're still here."
The words hit harder than they should have. Becky's breath hitched as he stepped closer, so close now she could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Why is that, Becky?" he asked, his voice a whisper now.
"I... I don't know," she whispered back, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Ben's hand brushed hers, the brief contact sending a jolt of electricity through her. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just them, the storm, and the unspoken tension that had been building for months.
"Becky" Ben began, but the sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway cut him off.
The door burst open, and Julia, drenched from the storm, stood panting in the doorway.
"Becky," she gasped, her wide eyes darting between her friend and Ben. "You need to come with me. Now."
Becky blinked, the spell between her and Ben shattering. "Julia, what's going on?"
Julia glanced at Ben nervously before gripping Becky's arm. "I'll explain on the way. Please, just trust me."
Ben's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. "What is this about?"
"It's none of your business," Julia snapped, tugging Becky toward the door.
Becky glanced back at Ben as Julia pulled her into the hallway. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something she couldn't name.
The elevator doors closed behind them, and Becky couldn't shake the feeling that whatever awaited her downstairs was about to change everything.