Chapter 7 A Line Drawn In Smoke

Sienna spent the rest of the day buried in work, but it didn’t help. No matter how many emails she answered, reports she proofread, or calls she scheduled, her mind kept circling back to one thing—him. To the way Adrian had looked at her in that office. To the way he had pushed without ever laying a finger on her. To the fact that she hadn’t walked away because she wanted to—but because she had to. And yet, even after leaving, his presence still wrapped around her like a vice. By the time five o’clock arrived, she was drained. She needed space, needed air. She had just finished gathering her things when the intercom on her desk crackled to life. “Miss Locke,” Adrian’s voice hummed through the speaker, smooth and authoritative. “My office. Now.” Sienna exhaled sharply, pressing her lips together before responding. “Is this work-related, Mr. Blackwood?” A pause. Then, low and edged with amusement— “Does it matter?” Her fingers tightened around the phone, heat prickling under her skin. Damn him. --- A Game of Control She could have left. Should have. But Sienna wasn’t the kind of woman who ran. So instead, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and strode toward his office. She didn’t knock this time. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, her posture sharp, unreadable. “What is it?” Adrian was leaning against the edge of his desk, his arms crossed. Waiting. Sienna forced herself not to react to the way his dress shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal strong, veined forearms. He studied her for a long moment, as if debating how far he wanted to push. Then, in that quiet, composed way of his, he said— “You’re avoiding me.” Sienna let out a dry laugh. “I’m working.” “Hmm.” He tilted his head slightly. “You weren’t avoiding me at the gala.” She ignored the flicker of warmth that shot through her. “Because that was work.” “And this isn’t?” His voice was measured, but his eyes—they held something else. Something undeniable. Sienna set her bag down on the chair across from his desk. “If you have something to say, Mr. Blackwood, say it.” Another stretch of silence. Then—smooth, deliberate, cutting straight to the point— “Tell me why you left.” Her breath caught. Adrian’s gaze never wavered, never hesitated. He wanted an answer. He expected one. But Sienna wasn’t giving him that. “Why does it matter?” she countered. His lips twitched slightly. “Because I think you already know.” Heat crawled up her spine. “You’re assuming things.” He took a slow step forward. And then another. Sienna stood her ground as he came to a stop in front of her, their proximity toeing the very edge of what was appropriate. His voice dipped lower. “Am I?” She swallowed hard, hating how effortlessly he unsettled her. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr. Blackwood.” A smirk. Dark. Knowing. “So are you.” Sienna clenched her jaw, exhaling sharply before stepping around him. “If that’s all, I’ll be leaving now.” She was almost at the door when his voice stopped her cold. “You think walking away is going to change anything?” She stiffened. Because no—it wouldn’t. They were already past that point. But that didn’t mean she would admit it. Without turning around, she said— “You’re my boss. That’s all this is.” A pause. Then, his words cut through the space between them like a blade. “Keep telling yourself that, Miss Locke.” Sienna’s breath hitched, but she forced her expression to remain unreadable as she opened the door and stepped out. But the moment she was in the hallway, her composure shattered. Because she knew— This wasn’t over. Not even close. --- A Battle with Herself Sienna barely remembered the drive home. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts she had no business entertaining. This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. But Adrian had a way of breaking past her defenses. He didn’t need to touch her. Didn’t need to use any force. He spoke—and she felt it in her bones. And that? That was what scared her the most. When she arrived at her apartment, she threw her keys on the counter and paced. She needed to stop this. Now. She was strong, controlled. She didn’t fall for men like Adrian Blackwood. And yet… She walked to her bedroom, yanking open her closet. Her eyes locked onto the red dress hanging there. The one she had worn for herself. Not for him. Or so she had told herself. With a sharp inhale, she pushed the thought aside, forcing herself into her usual routine—shower, tea, bed. But when she finally laid down, her mind betrayed her. Because in the darkness, all she could think about was his voice. The way he had looked at her. The way he had seen right through her. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she was resisting him— Or resisting herself.