Natalie’s first sensation upon waking was warmth. A deep, steady warmth that seeped into her bones and chased away the last phantom echoes of the storm. The second was the solid, rhythmic beat of a heart against her ear. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking in the soft morning light, and met the crisp white cotton of a man’s shirt. Her breath hitched. She was curled into Julian’s side, her head pillowed on his chest, his arm a secure, heavy band around her waist. The line she had so carefully drawn down the center of the bed was a distant memory. Her own rules, shattered by her own fear. A hot blush flooded her cheeks, and she tried to inch away without waking him, her movements clumsy with embarrassment. His arm tightened fractionally, and a low, sleepy rumble vibrated through his chest. "Stay." Her entire body froze. She tilted her head back, her wide, mortified eyes meeting his. Julian was awake, his gaze clear and deep, devoid of any mockery. There was only a quiet tenderness there that made her heart stumble over itself. "I… I’m so sorry," she stammered, her voice a whisper. "The storm… I broke the rules." A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips. It transformed his severe, powerful face into something devastatingly handsome. "Some rules are meant to be broken, Natalie. Especially when you need me." His thumb brushed gently over her arm, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine. The air between them was thick with unspoken things, with a tension that was both terrifying and thrilling. He had held her through her deepest fear, and in the light of day, she didn't feel regret. She felt… safe. Utterly and completely safe. "Thank you," she whispered, the words feeling inadequate. He simply held her gaze for a long moment before releasing her. "Get ready," he said, his voice back to its usual cool tone, though the warmth never left his eyes. "You don't want to be late for your first day." *** Aura Designs was one of the most prestigious architectural and interior design firms in the city, and Natalie’s heart hammered with a mixture of excitement and nerves as she walked through the sleek glass doors. She had gotten this job on her own merit, submitting her portfolio under her maiden name. No one here knew she was Mrs. Julian Vance, and she intended to keep it that way. She wanted to build a career based on her talent, not her husband’s name. The office was a bustling, open-plan space filled with creative energy. A handsome man with a kind smile and warm brown eyes approached her desk. "You must be Natalie. I'm Daniel, a senior designer. Welcome to the shark tank." He winked. "Don't worry, my bite is worse than my bark. If you need anything, just ask." Natalie felt a rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Daniel. I appreciate that." Before he could say more, a shadow fell over her desk. A portly man in an expensive but ill-fitting suit loomed over them, a sneer plastered on his face. "Daniel, don't you have deadlines to meet instead of fraternizing with the new intern?" Daniel’s smile tightened. "Just welcoming our new junior designer, Mr. Davies." Mr. Davies, the Head of the Design Department, ignored Daniel and turned his piggy eyes on Natalie, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. "Natalie Croft. I reviewed your portfolio. A bit… provincial. But I suppose you have potential. We’ll see if you can handle the pressure. For now, get me a coffee. Black. Two sugars." He didn't wait for a response, just strutted away toward his glass-walled office. Natalie’s jaw clenched. She wasn't an intern or his personal assistant, but she was new, and she didn't want to make waves on her first day. With a sigh, she stood up. Daniel gave her a sympathetic look. "Don't mind him. He's like that with everyone, especially talented new women." The day went from bad to worse. Mr. Davies piled her desk with menial rendering tasks far below her skill level, then publicly criticized her work for being 'uninspired'. He seemed to take a sadistic pleasure in trying to humiliate her, his voice always carrying a slimy, suggestive undertone. Late in the afternoon, he called her into his office. "Listen, sweetheart," he began, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. "Talent is only half the battle in this industry. The other half is networking. Knowing how to… handle clients." Natalie stood stiffly, her hands clasped behind her back. "I understand, sir." "Good." He gave her a greasy smile. "Because tonight, you're going to help me entertain a very important client, Mr. Henderson of Apex Holdings. He’s crucial for the new Waterfront project. We’ll be meeting him for dinner at The Crystal Pavilion." He paused, his eyes raking over her simple but elegant work dress. "Wear something a little more… festive. You understand. Don't be late." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Natalie walked back to her desk, a cold dread pooling in her stomach. The implication was sickeningly clear. This wasn't about design. This was about her being used as a showpiece to charm a client. Her hands trembled with a mixture of anger and fear. *** The Crystal Pavilion’s private VIP room was suffocatingly opulent, all dark wood, velvet, and hushed, cloying quiet. Mr. Henderson was an older man with a wandering gaze that made Natalie want to shrink into herself. Mr. Davies was in his element, laughing too loudly and constantly refilling their glasses with expensive wine. "Natalie here is our newest rising star," Davies announced, slinging a heavy arm around her chair. "Full of fresh ideas." "I can see that," Henderson leered, his eyes fixed on her. "It’s always good to see fresh faces." Natalie forced a polite, tight-lipped smile and tried to steer the conversation back to the Waterfront project, but they were uninterested. They wanted to talk about her. To ask her prying questions. And most of all, they wanted her to drink. "Come on, Natalie, don't be such a prude," Davies urged, pushing another full glass toward her. "Mr. Henderson is our guest. A little drink to show our hospitality won't hurt." "I’m not much of a drinker, thank you," she said, her voice firm but quiet. Davies's smile turned into a scowl. His professional mask was slipping, revealing the vile bully beneath. Frustration flashed in his eyes. While Henderson was momentarily distracted by a text on his phone, Davies swiftly and discreetly tipped a small packet of white powder into Natalie's glass, swirling it once to dissolve it. He thought she hadn't seen, but she caught the movement from the corner of her eye. Ice-cold terror shot through her veins. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. He picked up the glass and shoved it into her hand, his fingers closing over hers, forcing her to hold it. "I said, drink," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "It's not a request. It's an order. You don't want to disappoint me *and* Mr. Henderson on your first week, do you?" Her mind raced, searching for an escape, but she was trapped. Her throat closed with panic as he guided the glass toward her lips, his face a leering mask of triumph. The sickly-sweet smell of the wine filled her senses. She squeezed her eyes shut, a silent scream caught in her throat. BANG. The heavy oak door of the VIP room was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the wall, the sound echoing like a gunshot. In the restaurant's VIP room, the boss is forcing drugged wine on Natalie. The door bangs open — Julian strides in, killing intent radiating from him in waves.

Chapter 6: The Secret Office Romance