Chapter 19: Don't look at Me Like That in Public
POV: Noah Hart
The elevator ride to the top floor had never felt longer.
Noah adjusted the strap of his leather bag, checked his reflection in the mirrored panel for the third time, and ignored the way his heart thundered like he’d done something wrong.
He hadn’t.
But last night still clung to his skin like a secret.
The weight of Elias’s body.
The way he’d whispered Noah’s name like it hurt to say it.
The way they’d fallen asleep together. Not just sex. Not just release.
But connection.
And now Noah was walking into the office like the world hadn’t just shifted under his feet.
\---
He stepped into the executive wing.
Silence.
Then eyes.
Subtle. Sharp.
He passed the receptionist—Tessa—who gave him a brief nod and something else. A smirk? A flicker of interest? It was gone before he could read it.
He kept walking.
At his desk outside Elias’s glass-walled office, he noticed a paper cup already waiting. His favorite: black coffee, cinnamon stirred in.
He picked it up.
Still warm.
His chest tightened.
Elias had remembered.
\---
But the door stayed shut.
Noah waited five minutes before tapping once and entering. Elias stood at the window, hands behind his back, back straight, unreadable.
Noah cleared his throat. “Good morning.”
Elias didn’t turn around. “Close the door.”
Noah did.
Then he waited.
Waited for Elias to speak. To say something. Anything.
Instead, the silence stretched.
Cool. Professional. Controlled.
And it stung.
“You’re doing the thing,” Noah said finally.
“What thing?” Elias asked without turning.
“The thing where you pretend we’re strangers.”
Elias’s voice was low. Careful. “We’re not strangers. But we’re not reckless either.”
Noah stepped closer, heart pounding. “No one saw anything.”
Elias finally turned.
His face was calm.
His eyes were not.
“Someone always sees.”
\---
Noah swallowed the sharpness in his throat and nodded.
He understood.
This was the price of wanting someone like Elias Voss. Power came with silence. With walls. With control.
But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
\---
Later that morning, in the quarterly review meeting, Noah sat two seats away from Elias.
Close enough to feel his presence. Far enough that they might as well have been planets.
The CFO, Bramley, was presenting something convoluted about Q3 projections. Noah had revised those numbers himself. He knew them inside and out.
But Bramley twisted the math to downplay risk.
Noah frowned.
He raised his hand. “That’s not accurate.”
All heads turned.
Bramley blinked. “Excuse me?”
Noah stood. “The data you’re citing is from the initial pass. Not the revised report submitted last Thursday. I ran the correction. The projected dip in margin is 7.2%, not 3.4.”
A pause.
Bramley scowled. “I don’t think—”
“He’s right,” Elias said flatly.
The room went still.
Everyone looked at him.
He didn’t look at Noah.
Didn’t smile.
Didn’t blink.
But his voice cut through the tension like steel.
“Use the corrected data. I want transparency in this report.”
Bramley swallowed his ego. “Yes, sir.”
Noah sat down slowly, pulse spiking.
Elias didn’t spare him a glance.
But he didn’t have to.
\---
Back at his desk an hour later, a message pinged on his screen.
E.VOSS: My office. Now.
\---
He walked in, heart in his throat.
Elias didn’t speak at first.
He was standing again. Always standing. Always looking at windows like they’d answer his questions.
“You didn’t have to defend me,” Noah said softly.
“I wasn’t defending you.” Elias turned, expression unreadable. “I was correcting a lie.”
“Still.” Noah hesitated. “Thank you.”
Their eyes locked.
Heat flared — and something darker with it.
Elias took a slow step forward.
Then another.
He stopped inches away, voice low. Dangerous.
“Don’t make me watch you get undermined again. I might not stay quiet next time.”
Noah’s breath caught.
“You’re the one who wanted to keep this quiet,” he w
hispered.
Elias leaned in not touching but close enough that the heat between them pulsed.
“Don’t look at me like that in public,” he said. “You make it impossible to behave.”