Emily Lane tugged her coat tighter against the crisp morning air as she stepped out of Café Alchemy, also her favorite escape from Tiana's demanding world. It was her moment of peace—a ritual. Every morning, one medium oat milk caramel latte, no foam, and one chocolate croissant. The perfect balance of sugar and sanity.
She smiled when she saw the familiar bench outside, bathed in a soft wash of sunlight. But her steps halted.
Someone was already there.
Correction: he was already there.
Nathan Walls.
The same smug, too-handsome-for-his-own-good man who'd snagged the last caramel latte yesterday—her caramel latte—and didn't even apologize. Just smirked like he owned the café. Like he owned everything.
Well, to be fair, he kind of did. Nathan's Fashion Corporation was one of Diamonds' biggest rivals, a sleek, tech-savvy brand on the rise. And Nathan? A designer-turned-CEO with a roguish smile, a sharp tongue, and a reputation for being as ambitious as he was charming.
Nathan looked up from his phone, spotted her, and grinned. "Emily Lane. Back for round two?"
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Is that your thing? Stealing women's coffee and pretending it's flirting?"
Nathan chuckled, his eyes lighting with amusement. "Only if it works. Though I must admit, I was hoping for a thank-you. I saved you from a caffeine addiction."
"You're hilarious," she said flatly, but a small smile tugged at her lips before she sat on the other side of the bench. "Don't tell me this is your new office."
He leaned back, one arm draped lazily along the bench. "I find the ambiance helps my creativity. Plus, I like watching powerful women storm out of meetings on their phones. It's inspiring."
Emily shot him a sidelong glance. "If you're referring to Tiana, I'd suggest watching from a distance. She bites."
"I'm more interested in her assistant," he said smoothly.
Emily blinked. Her heart skipped once—just once—but she recovered quickly.
"Is that your line?" she asked, lips twitching. "Do you keep a list? 'Assistant: check. Barista: check. PR intern—'"
Nathan laughed. "Ouch. That was harsh. I'm trying to be sincere here."
She took a sip of her coffee and gave him a sideways smirk. "Try harder."
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Alright. Sincerely? You intrigue me, Emily Lane. You're sharp, composed, and probably way too good for that ice queen you work for."
Emily's smile faded a fraction. "Careful. You're crossing into dangerous territory."
Nathan raised both hands in mock surrender. "Noted. I'll save the gossip for our second date."
"Second?" she echoed.
He stood, offering her the last bite of his croissant. "You didn't say no to the first."
Emily looked at the pastry, then at him. She didn't take it.
But she did smile.
"Maybe next time you let me buy my coffee first."
Nathan winked. "It's a deal."
As he walked away, Emily watched him go, her heart thudding more than she wanted to admit. She shook her head, muttering to herself.
"This week just got way more complicated."
**********
The offices of Diamonds were bathed in their usual morning gleam—cool, calculated, and pristine, just like their CEO. The glass walls reflected Tiana Kings' silhouette as she stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of her corner office, her back straight, arms folded, and expression unreadable. She was dressed in slate gray with a subtle shimmer, the perfect blend of elegance and edge. Power tailored in silk.
The door opened without a knock—Emily Lane never needed one.
Tiana didn't turn. "You're late."
"By three minutes," Emily said, setting her bag on the side table. "And I brought you your coffee."
"Three minutes is three minutes." Tiana finally glanced over her shoulder. "And if you're trying to curry favor with coffee,it's not working."
Emily smirked, unfazed. She walked across the office, holding out the small bottle like a peace offering. "It's not favor. It's prevention. The last time you got sick, you ran a board meeting with a 103 fever and threatened to fire a VP for sneezing."
"I did fire him," Tiana replied, taking the bottle. "He was useless."
Emily rolled her eyes and turned to open her tablet. "Anyway, I had a weird run-in before I got here."
Tiana raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Emily continued. "Nathan Walls. Again."
That earned a full turn. Tiana's gaze sharpened like a blade unsheathed. "What do you mean 'again'?"
"He was outside Café Alchemy," Emily said, casually scrolling through the morning emails. "Same spot as yesterday when he stole the last caramel latte. Today he was on the bench. Flirting."
Tiana scoffed, crossing her arms. "Flirting with you?"
Emily paused. "Gee, thanks."
"That wasn't an insult," Tiana said coolly, sitting behind her glass desk. "Just a question. He's strategic. Every move he makes has intent. Flirting is just another form of leverage."
Emily met her eyes. "You think Nathan Walls is trying to seduce me... to get to you?"
Tiana didn't answer immediately. She simply gave a noncommittal shrug and looked out the window again. "Men like him don't flirt for fun. They flirt to win."
Emily arched a brow. "And what exactly would he win by flirting with me?"
Tiana turned back, her voice icier now. "Leverage. Inside knowledge. My schedule. My moods. My team."
"I'm not that easy, T," Emily said, crossing her arms.
Tiana's gaze didn't soften. "Everyone's easy for the right person. Or the right pressure."
Emily laughed dryly, not entirely surprised by the response. "Remind me again why you don't believe in love?"
Tiana stood, heels clicking as she moved to the wall of mood boards beside her. She adjusted one of the swatches—a blood-red silk square—then stared at it like it held the answers to a universe she'd long since dismissed.
"Because love makes people stupid," she said finally. "Soft. Slow. Vulnerable. And in this world, vulnerable gets you eaten alive."
Emily leaned against the edge of the desk. "You say that like you've never felt it."
Tiana didn't turn. "I haven't."
A beat of silence stretched between them. Emily studied her boss—her friend, really—trying to decide if she believed her. Tiana Kings, the woman who had a city at her heels and a heart in a cage.
"So what do you suggest I do?" Emily asked carefully. "If Nathan's playing a game, do I play back? Ignore him? Shut it down?"
Tiana finally faced her again, her tone like steel wrapped in velvet. "You do your job. Nothing more."
Emily nodded slowly. "You mean I'm not allowed to have a life?"
"I mean that your life, at this level, is your career. Everything else is optional."
"And disposable?" Emily asked, eyes narrowing.
Tiana didn't flinch. "If necessary."
Emily looked away, lips pressed together, the words sitting heavy between them. This wasn't new territory—Tiana had always made her stance clear. But sometimes, the cold was still shocking.
She exhaled, adjusting her posture. "He made a joke. Said I intrigued him. Said I was too good to be working for someone like you."
Tiana raised a brow. "And how did you respond?"
"I told him to be careful," Emily said. "That crossing that line wouldn't end well for anyone."
Tiana's lips quirked into something that might have been a smirk, or maybe just a twitch of approval. "Smart girl."
Emily's voice softened. "You know, not everyone who flirts is a threat. And not everyone who feels something is weak."
Tiana walked back to her desk, heels precise, movements fluid. "Love is for people who can afford to lose. I've spent my whole life building this company brick by brutal brick. I've sacrificed too much to hand any of it over for a warm body and sweet words."
Emily nodded, but didn't hide her concern. "I get it. I really do. But you don't have to be alone at the top. That's not the only way to win."
Tiana's eyes locked on hers, unreadable. "It's the only way I know."
Before Emily could reply, the intercom buzzed.
"Ms. Kings," came the voice of the front desk assistant. "Your driver, Mr. Haven, is here."
Tiana's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes—just a flicker.
Emily caught it.
"I'll tell him to wait," the assistant said.
"No," Tiana replied smoothly. "I'll be right down."
As the intercom clicked off, Tiana collected her clutch and turned to Emily.
"Keep your distance from Nathan Walls," she said coolly. "He's not the man you think he is."
Emily watched her go, biting back the urge to say what she was really thinking:
And neither is Dylan Haven.