The next morning, Lena arrived at Calloway Holdings. As she stepped through the glass doors, Lena was immediately surrounded by an air of control and precision. Every surface sparkled, every step sounded deliberate, and the whole place ran like clockwork. Nothing was out of place. It was a sharp contrast to the Ethan she remembered—the rebellious, sharp-tongued teen who used to smirk through detention. That version of him was long gone. In his place stood the man—disciplined, polished, and powerful.
Before Lena could take it all in, a crisp voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Ms. Kim?"
She turned to see a woman approaching—dressed in a sharp navy skirt and white silk blouse, her heels barely making a sound. Young, polished, and clearly trained to handle pressure without showing it.
"Mr. Calloway is expecting you," she said with a polite nod.
Of course he was.
Lena gave a tight smile and followed her, the click of her heels echoing down gleaming hallways lined with glass walls and sleek conference rooms.They stopped at a pair of large matte-black double doors. The assistant knocked once, then opened them without hesitation.
Ethan stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, hands in the pockets of his charcoal suit, the city skyline stretching behind him like it already belonged to him. The view was stunning—towering skyscrapers glowing in the early sun—but Lena barely noticed it. Her eyes were on him.
At the sound of her heels, Ethan turned slowly, locking eyes with her the way he always did—steady, intense, impossible to ignore. And just like that, the spark flared again—quick, sharp, and dangerous.
"You're late," he said, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, part amusement, part challenge.
Lena raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "I wasn't aware we set a time."
Her voice was cool, steady—each word precise.
Ethan's smirk deepened, his gaze narrowing slightly. "I like people who anticipate my needs."
Lena folded her arms, the soft rustle of her blouse the only sound as she tilted her head. "And I like people who don't waste my time."
Ethan let out a low chuckle. He stepped closer—slow, deliberate, more curious than threatening. "Then let's not waste any more of it," he said softly, his tone calm, but his eyes shifting—losing the playfulness, sharpening with something deeper.
Something determined.
"You and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other, Lena," he said, voice low and steady. "You might want to get used to it."
Lena straightened, lifted her chin, and met his gaze with one just as cold and unreadable. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she shifted her stance, holding her ground.
She gave him a tight, cool smile. "We'll see about that," she said, each word sharp and clear, drawing a firm line between them.
Ethan tilted his head, that familiar smirk playing on his lips, like her defiance only made things more interesting. But Lena wasn't fooled. Even as she turned away, she could feel the weight of his gaze, she told herself that Ethan was not flirting with her. To him, she's just part of business.
Lena had faced tough clients before—ruthless CEOs, smooth-talking politicians, and corporate bullies who used intimidation like second nature. She had stood her ground, won battles others thought impossible, and walked away with her pride and power intact.
Lena told herself tha Ethan was just another client sitting on the opposite side of a polished boardroom table. He was just another CEO with too much money.
The day had stretched endlessly inside the sleek walls of a conference room in Calloway Holdings. Lena had buried herself in work, refusing to be distracted, determined to assert herself on her own terms. She'd reviewed pages of contracts, combed through every clause with meticulous precision, led a series of tense negotiations with the board's internal counsel, and fielded a dozen calls from the firm's partners—all of whom were eager to stay in Ethan Calloway's good graces. She was used to this kind of pressure, thrived under it even, but something about the hours in this building felt heavier.
When she finally looked at the clock, it was past eight. The halls outside were quiet, the day's bustle fading into the stillness of night. She let out a slow breath, her shoulders sore with tension, and started gathering her files.
"Leaving already?"
Her stomach clenched at the sound of the familiar voice. She didn't need to look up to know. Still, she did—and there he was, leaning casually in the doorway like he had all the time in the world. Ethan Calloway. The sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt were rolled to his elbows, forearms tanned and corded with muscle, and his dark silk tie hung loosened around his collar in a way that should not have looked that good. His jacket was gone, his posture relaxed, but his eyes—those intense, unblinking eyes—were locked on her.
She inhaled slowly, setting her jaw as she slid the last contract into her briefcase. "I didn't realize my schedule required your approval," she said, her voice smooth as glass, not missing a beat. Ethan stepped inside, his footsteps unhurried, the grin tugging at his lips widening just a fraction. "You work late. I work late. Seems like a pattern." Lena arched a brow, "what are you trying to say?"
Ethan's smirk deepened, his gaze never wavering. "It's my way of saying you should let me buy you dinner."
Maybe… maybe this was her chance to let Sophie and Ethan meet. It would be the great chance for them to catch up.
"Let me call Sophie, see if she's free," Lena said, pulling out her phone.
Ethan arched an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face, but he didn't object.
Sophie answered after a few rings, her voice warm but apologetic. "Already had dinner, Lena. You two go ahead without me."
Lena hesitated, then hung up the call with a quiet sigh. She glanced at Ethan, suddenly aware of the fact that dinner alone with him felt… dangerous.
"I think I'll pass," she said, forcing a polite smile. "Maybe another time."
Ethan leaned back slightly, studying her. "Why?" he asked, voice low and amused. "Afraid to eat alone with me?"
Lena clicked her briefcase shut with a definitive snap, the sound sharp in the quiet office. "Just wait for next time when Sophie is free so that you two can catch up."
Taking her coat from the back of her chair, she swept past him without hesitation, refusing to give him another chance to ask further. "Goodnight, Ethan," she said.
Ethan tried to read between the lines, trying to understand what Lena was really thinking. Before she could slip away, he called after her.
"Then at least let me drive you home."
"It's fine," Lena said without looking back, already pulling the door open. "I'll call a ride."
And just like that, she was gone—leaving only the soft click of the door behind her.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair as the door clicked shut. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the empty space she'd left behind.
Typical Lena—always composed, always keeping just enough distance to make sure no one could get too close.
He wasn't sure if she was guarding herself from him specifically, or if this was simply the armor she wore with everyone. Either way, tonight made one thing clear: winning her trust wouldn't be as simple as sharing a meal or offering a ride.
Ethan picked up his jacket, a small, crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself.
"Another time, then," he muttered under his breath, already wondering how many walls he would have to break through just to reach her.
*****
By the time Lena reached the ground floor, the sky had opened up without warning. Rain poured in heavy sheets, blurring the city lights into a smeared watercolor of gold and gray. She stopped under the awning, looking down at her phone.
Still searching for a driver.
Lena exhaled a tired sigh, her thumb tapping the screen anxiously. The raindrops pounded against the pavement, the sharp scent of wet asphalt filling the air. She hadn't even thought to bring an umbrella—another careless oversight she'd regret later.
Just as she considered retreating upstairs to wait it out, a sleek black car glided to a stop in front of her. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Ethan behind the wheel, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel.
"Get in," he said, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain.
Lena hesitated for half a beat, then pulled the door open and slid inside, shivering slightly as the cold from outside clung to her. She shut the door, fastening her seatbelt in silence. The warmth of the car wrapped around her, but the tension between them remained.
She stared out the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass. Ethan didn't say anything either, simply merging back onto the street, his focus steady. The only sound between them was the soft sweep of the windshield wipers.
Halfway into the drive, Lena's phone buzzed in her lap. She glanced at the caller ID—Mum—and answered immediately.
"Hi, Mum," she said, her voice softening.
"Lena, are you still working?" her mother's warm voice crackled through her phone.
"I just finished. I'm on my way home now," Lena replied, glancing briefly at Ethan, who said nothing but seemed to listen.
"Don't work too hard. Remember to take care of yourself," her mother chided gently, the worry clear in her voice.
Lena smiled faintly, the edges of her usual guardedness slipping away. "I will, Mum. Don't worry."
There was a short pause before her mother continued, a little more brightly, "Next time, bring Anthony back for dinner when you're both free. Everyone misses you."
Lena's fingers tightened slightly around her phone. She hesitated, then said quietly, "Mum… Anthony and I broke up."
Her mother gasped softly. "What happened?"
Lena took a slow breath, her voice calm but firm. "I caught him cheating. In our bed."
For a moment, there was only silence on the line, save for the low hum of the car moving through the rain.
"Are you okay, girl?" her mother asked, voice thick with concern.
"I'm fine," Lena said, forcing a smile even as a dull ache pressed against her chest. It wasn't that she still had feelings for Anthony—it was the disappointment that stung. She knew her parents only wanted her to find happiness, and for a while, she had truly believed she could find it with Anthony and made her parents happy for her. "Really, Mum. Don't worry about me. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay, just… take care. We love you," her mother said quietly before hanging up.
Lena lowered the phone into her lap, staring blankly at the road ahead.
Ethan gripped the steering wheel tighter, the leather creaking slightly under his hand. He had heard everything. His jaw tensed, a silent curse burning in his chest. That bastard.
He glanced sideways at Lena, taking in the way she sat—so composed, so quiet—but he could see it now. The small crack in her armor. The brave face she wore for everyone else.
She deserved so much more. She deserved someone who wouldn't dare hurt her.
Ethan forced his gaze back to the road, his mind already spinning with unspoken promises he had no right to make.
Not yet. But someday.
By the time Ethan pulled up in front of her apartment building, the rain had finally stopped. Ethan shifted the car into her apartment lobby, glancing briefly at Lena. She was already reaching for the door handle, eager, it seemed, to put some space between them.
"Thanks for the ride," she said, her voice polite, careful. She offered him a small smile—professional, composed—as if he were nothing more than a coworker doing her a favor.
Ethan watched her for a second longer than he should have, then spoke, his voice low but steady.
"You don't have to be so formal with me, Lena."
She paused, her hand still hovering near the door. Slowly, she turned to meet his gaze, uncertainty flickering across her face.
"This isn't the office," Ethan continued, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. "You don't have to keep your guard up."
For a moment, Lena didn't say anything. Then she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Goodnight, Ethan," she said, her voice gentler this time.
Without waiting for a reply, she slipped out of the car, the door shutting quietly behind her. Ethan sat there for a moment, watching as she disappeared into the building.