CHAPTER 98

CHAPTER 98

DIANA’S POV

"Right on time," Michael teased as he looked at his watch, walking down the steps toward me. His grin was the kind that made it impossible to stay annoyed.

"You say that like I’m ever late," I shot back, pretending not to notice how his eyes lingered a second too long.

"Never late, huh?" he said, falling in step beside me. "You make it sound like a skill."

"It is," I said. "You should try it sometime."

He laughed, and for a moment, I forgot everything else. The noise of the office faded as we made our way to the underground lot. His hand brushed mine, light but deliberate, and it sent a pulse through me.

When the car doors closed, the silence felt heavy, charged.

"How’s your morning been?" I asked. I didn’t know why my voice came out softer than I meant it to.

"Busy," he said, leaning back against the seat. "The tenth-anniversary event is tomorrow. I’ve been finalizing the guest list, the press, and the speeches. It’s chaos, but we’re almost there."

I turned to him. "You’ve been handling all that alone?"

"Not alone," he said, looking at me with that half-smile that always got me. "You’ve been helping more than you think. You keep me sane."

His tone dropped low. Too low. I felt warmth rise in my cheeks, and I looked away, pretending to adjust the seat belt.

"I doubt I’m that helpful," I said.

"Trust me," he said. "You are."

The way he said it left little room for argument. His voice carried something unspoken—something I had been pretending not to hear for weeks.

I should have stopped it. Instead, I leaned in slightly, drawn to him against my better judgment. His eyes caught mine, and the silence between us stretched thin.

Then his phone buzzed. He sighed, breaking the moment, and glanced at the screen. "Work again," he said. "They’ll survive without me for ten minutes."

"You sure?" I asked, smiling to hide the tension curling in my chest.

"I’m sure."

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His hand lingered, warm against my cheek. I froze. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"I’ve been trying to ignore this," he said quietly. "But every time we’re in the same room, it gets harder."

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. The part of me that wanted to stay loyal—to my work, to boundaries, to common sense—was losing its fight.

"Michael," I said finally, my voice low. "This isn’t a good idea."

"Maybe not," he said. "But it feels right."

And in that single moment, the air between us changed. His fingers brushed my hand, tracing circles against my skin. I didn’t pull away. I wanted to, but I didn’t.

Before either of us could speak again, my phone rang, the sound slicing through the moment. I glanced at the screen, and my stomach dropped. It was Benjamin.

Michael noticed my hesitation. "You should take it," he said.

I shook my head. "It can wait."

He raised a brow. "Benjamin doesn’t usually call unless it’s important."

I didn’t like how easily he said Benjamin’s name, like it was a test. "I’ll call him back," I said, locking the phone. "Right now, I’d rather talk to you."

Michael studied me for a moment, searching for something in my face. Then he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "What do you want to talk about?"

I smiled faintly. "Us. Or whatever this is."

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Then let’s be honest," he said. "I like you. I don’t want to pretend otherwise. But I also don’t want to mess things up for you."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "You already did," I said softly. "Because now I’m thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking about."

Michael’s expression softened. "Then we’re both guilty."

For a while, neither of us said anything. The tension in the car was suffocating but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that meant too much was being felt and not enough was being said.

Finally, I broke it. "You know, Ethan’s been pushing for that new contract this week. He’s counting on you to finalize it."

He nodded. "I know. And I’ll deliver." He paused. "But you’re worried he’d see this as a distraction."

"Wouldn’t you?" I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, "Maybe. But sometimes distractions are worth it."

I looked at him, and something in his expression told me he meant it. That scared me more than anything.

The sound of footsteps in the distance made me jolt. I straightened up, brushing invisible creases from my skirt, trying to look composed. Michael did the same, his professional mask sliding effortlessly back into place.

"You should go," he said, his voice quieter now. "Before someone sees you here."

"You’re right," I said, reaching for the handle. "We both need to think clearly before we do something we regret."

"Diana." His voice stopped me. I turned.

"Yeah?"

"Do you regret this?" he asked.

I hesitated. The truth was tangled somewhere between yes and no. "I don’t know," I said finally. "Ask me tomorrow."

He nodded, though the look in his eyes said he already knew my answer.

As I stepped out of the car, the cool air hit me like a reminder of everything waiting outside—the lies, the boundaries, the danger of letting my emotions get ahead of reason.

I pressed my phone against my chest. One missed call. Benjamin again.

I sighed and called him back as I walked toward the elevator.

"Finally," his voice came through the line, tight with worry. "I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," I said, keeping my tone steady. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s Ethan," Benjamin said. "He’s acting strange. Sabela says he’s been shutting people out again. He didn’t show up to the morning meeting."

My pulse quickened. "Did anyone check on him?"

"Not yet," Benjamin said. "I thought maybe you could. He listens to you."

I froze in place, feeling the weight of guilt settle heavily in my chest. Ten minutes ago, I had been tangled in a moment I shouldn’t have had. Now Ethan was the one I needed to face.

"I’ll go," I said. "Right now."

"Diana," Benjamin said softly, "be careful. Something feels off."

"I will," I promised.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside, my reflection staring back at me from the mirrored wall. My lipstick was smudged, my heart was pounding, and the truth of what I’d done sat heavy in my throat.

By the time I reached the top floor, I had made my choice. Whatever had happened with Michael would stay buried. At least for now.

Because if Ethan was falling apart again, the last thing he needed was another betrayal.