Chapter 46: Daniel’s Meltdown
Chapter 46: Daniel’s Meltdown
The morning light filtered through the blinds of Eve’s cabin, soft and golden, brushing over the polished desk and half-drunk coffee she had abandoned yesterday. The office was quiet, too early for chatter or phones ringing. When Lucas walked in, his steps were deliberate—calm, yet charged with something simmering beneath.
Eve wasn’t there.
He stood for a moment, looking around her space. The neat stack of files. The faint trace of her perfume that lingered even when she wasn’t present. His lips curved, but not in a smile. Something darker. Something he wasn’t yet willing to name.
He placed a bouquet of deep red roses on her desk. Not a grand gesture—just enough to catch her eye, just enough to remind her he could touch her world without permission. A folded note slipped between the stems, his bold handwriting across it:
Sorry for my words yesterday.
No flourish. No signature. Just an apology wrapped in roses, leaving her to decide how much weight to give it.
Eve entered only a few minutes later, rushing in with her hair still damp, her blouse sticking slightly to her skin from the morning humidity. Her eyes froze the moment they landed on the roses.
Her breath caught. For one terrifying second, she thought Daniel had left them. But then she saw the note.
Her heart hammered as she pulled it out. Sorry for my words yesterday.
The words were simple, but they carried weight. The kind of weight that pressed on her ribs, tightening her chest. She didn’t even realize her legs were moving until she was already outside her cabin, walking quickly, almost running, toward Lucas’s office.
She didn’t knock. She pushed the door open and shut it behind her with a soft thud. Lucas was behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, typing something on his laptop as though he hadn’t been waiting for her reaction.
“Lucas…” Her voice cracked.
He looked up. His expression unreadable for a moment, then softening when he saw the flushed urgency in her face.
“You saw it.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” she whispered, before she could stop herself. Then, without thinking, she moved closer. “Why would you…”
But her words died as he stood, closing the distance between them in slow, deliberate steps. His presence consumed the space, swallowing her questions before they left her lips.
When she reached him, she didn’t hold back. Her arms wrapped around his torso, clinging. She felt his sharp inhale against her hair, the faint hesitation before his hands settled on her back.
“I shouldn’t have said those things yesterday,” he murmured into her ear. “I was cruel. Reckless.”
Her heart pounded so loud it was almost deafening. “Then why did you?”
Lucas leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze sharp but softened by something vulnerable, almost hidden. “Because you make me lose control, Eve.” His jaw tightened. “I realized last night—I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, you were there. I’ve started… liking you. And that terrifies me.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Liking her. The words echoed inside her head like forbidden music.
For a long, dangerous moment, they simply stood there, breathing in sync. Her perfume clung to his shirt. His warmth enveloped her. And deep down, Eve knew she didn’t want to pull away.
That evening, as the sun dipped into the horizon and the office corridors emptied, Eve walked beside Daniel toward the lobby. She had fixed her smile in place, careful, perfect. But every step they took echoed with the earlier confession in Lucas’s office.
And then fate decided to twist the knife.
They ran into Lucas at the exit.
He was standing near the glass doors, casually speaking with an associate, but the moment his eyes lifted to hers, the world narrowed.
Their gazes locked. Just for a second. Maybe two. But long enough.
Long enough for Daniel to notice.
Eve tore her eyes away, her throat dry. Daniel stiffened beside her, his jaw tightening. He glanced at Lucas, then back at her. And then—something else caught his attention.
Lucas moved past them, brushing close enough for Daniel to catch a whiff of something familiar—Eve’s perfume.
Daniel’s chest constricted. But it wasn’t just the scent. His eyes sharpened as they dropped to Lucas’s crisp white shirt.
And there it was. A faint smear of lipstick. The exact shade Eve was wearing.
Daniel’s hand clenched into a fist at his side.
The moment they returned home, the mask shattered.
Daniel slammed the door behind them, his voice sharp, ragged. “Do you think I’m blind, Eve?”
She froze near the hallway, turning slowly. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you dare lie to me.” His voice trembled—not with weakness, but with rage. “Your perfume. Your lipstick. On him.”
Her stomach dropped. He had noticed.
“No, Daniel, you’re imagining things.” She forced her voice steady, but her hands betrayed her, twisting at the hem of her blouse.
“Imagining?” He barked a bitter laugh. “Do you know how pathetic you sound? I saw it, Eve. I saw it.”
Her throat tightened. “It wasn’t what you think—”
“Then tell me what it was!” His voice cracked, his eyes burning. “Tell me why my best friend is walking around with your perfume on his shirt and your lipstick smeared across it.”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out. Because how could she explain what happened without confessing everything?
Silence stretched between them, heavy, suffocating.
Finally, Daniel’s shoulders slumped, but his anger didn’t fade. It curdled into something worse. Disbelief. Betrayal.
“You were all I had left,” he whispered hoarsely. “After Sienna… after everything… you were the only thing that made sense.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she bit them back. “Daniel, I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” He lifted a hand, stopping her. “Just… don’t.”
And with that, he stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Shaken, Eve sat on the edge of the couch, her mind a blur. Every word he had thrown at her replayed like daggers. She hated that part of her still wanted to run after him, to soothe his doubts, to confess half-truths just to keep the peace.
But another part—darker, undeniable—longed for someone else entirely.
Her hands trembled as she picked up her phone. She typed quickly, her thumbs moving faster than her fear.
Lucas, Daniel suspects something. He noticed the perfume. The lipstick. He thinks…
The typing bubble blinked for what felt like eternity.
Then the reply came, sharp, decisive.
Lucas: Tell him. Or I will.
Her breath hitched, the screen burning into her vision. The words weren’t a suggestion. They were a command.
And Eve realized, in that moment, that the ground beneath her life had finally cracked open—and Lucas was pulling her deeper into the fire.