Lyra's POV – Admin Floor
The cursor blinked at the end of her report. One last sentence to finish.
She couldn't.
Her stomach turned. Not from nausea this time, but nerves. She knew she'd have to tell someone.
Someone who wasn't just in her corner, but who would actually understand the magnitude of what this meant.
And for Lyra, there was only one person who fit that bill.
She found Talia in the breakroom, flipping through a snack bin with the kind of frown that said she was only pretending to be hungry.
"Got a second?" Lyra asked.
Talia glanced over. "That depends. Are you about to tell me you've decided to name the baby after me?"
Lyra gave a weak smile. "Not quite."
They walked together to the open-air stairwell where quiet always lingered between floors.
Lyra exhaled. "I know who the father is."
Talia's eyebrows shot up. "Okay. That's a start."
Lyra didn't look at her. "I haven't told him."
"Why not?"
Lyra's answer came quietly. "Because I don't think he remembers."
Talia turned. "Wait. What?"
"He was drunk," Lyra said. "At the gala. I didn't expect it. I didn't plan any of it. And now… I don't even know if he knows it was me."
Silence.
Talia studied her, expression unreadable.
Finally, she asked, "Is it a Dorne?"
Lyra didn't move.
Talia stepped back like she'd been slapped. "Oh my God. Which one?"
Lyra hesitated.
"Is it Marcus? Cedric? Lucien? Oh God, please don't Rhys.."
"It's not them."
Talia went still. Then her voice dropped. "You don't mean…"
Lyra nodded. "Cassian."
Talia stared at her like the air had shifted between them.
"Cassian.. Dorne?"
Lyra nodded again.
Talia took a slow breath. "You know what this means, right?"
Lyra folded her arms. "I know what it could mean. Legally. Professionally. Personally. I've read the policy front to back."
"You don't want to tell him?"
"I do. But I… don't know how. What if he regrets it? What if he thinks I'm doing this for leverage? I'm an admin with no bond and no savings. I can't afford to resign without a reference. And I can't afford to fight him either. Not legally, not emotionally."
Talia leaned against the rail. "He was engaged. Still is, technically."
Lyra's voice thinned. "It wasn't official at the time."
Talia didn't press. But her posture tightened. "You have to be careful. Cassian Dorne doesn't move without reason. And his reasons shape policy."
"I know."
"But if he's the father…" Talia paused. "Eventually, the system will close in. You'll either have to step forward. Or someone else will do it for you."
Lyra's mouth was dry. "I'm trying to buy time."
Talia placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then buy it fast. Before the system, or the man, makes the choice for you."
---
Lobby – Late Afternoon
Lyra was returning from a delivery route, folders tucked against her side, when she spotted him.
Cassian stood near the elevator bank, dressed in charcoal-gray, talking quietly with someone from Legal. His posture was at ease, but his shoulders were tense. Even from a distance, she could tell.
She didn't mean to slow her steps.
Didn't mean to stare.
She imagined a different version of him. One where they hadn't met at a corporate gala, where she wasn't a sub-level admin, and he wasn't carved from glass and expectation. A world where they'd met at a bookstore, maybe. Or a park. Or on a train.
Somewhere they could just be people.
He turned his head. Just slightly. His eyes met hers across the lobby.
Her breath caught.
For one second, neither of them moved.
He looked at her like he'd been trying to decide something for a long time.
Then the elevator dinged. The Legal liaison said something, and Cassian looked away.
But not before Lyra saw it.
A flicker of… concern. Not confusion. Not command.
Concern.
She turned before she could linger too long.
But he watched her walk away.
—
Cassian's POV – Executive Elevator
He didn't know why he looked up.
Some part of him always did lately, like his eyes were tuned to notice her before his brain caught up.
Lyra Elmont.
She stood by the far column, a folder clutched to her chest, gaze fixed. Not on him, but through him, like she was imagining something else entirely.
He didn't breathe.
Not because she was beautiful. She was. But because she looked… gone. Tethered somewhere else.
And for a moment, he wondered what it would have been like if they'd met differently. Without the weight of contracts, family names, board expectations. Without the history of that night carved into the space between them like something sacred and unnamed.
He knew what happened. Every moment. Every sound. The way her hands had moved, hesitant and bold. The way she'd touched him like she was still learning where he ended and she began.
He hadn't forgotten.
She looked away first.
He should have too.
But he watched her leave, that small tension still coiled in his chest.
Something was wrong. He didn't know what yet. But it wasn't just stress or exhaustion in her movements. Her scent was changing. Even beneath the layers of suppressant, even dulled by distance. He could tell.
He'd kept his distance for her sake. For professionalism. For a hundred good reasons.
But none of them held weight anymore.
Not when she lingered in the air like memory.
Not when he still found her name on documents he hadn't asked for.
Not when every instinct told him something was slipping beyond reach.
His reflection flickered in the elevator glass as the doors closed. He didn't see the CEO.
He saw a man who couldn't look away.
—
Theo's POV – After Hours, Archive Hall
The main office was quiet. Lights dimmed. Most of the admin wing had gone home. But Theo remained in the digital records lab, scrolling through scent log archives.
He didn't like doing this.
But he also didn't like not knowing.
Cassian had been late last week.
Bleary-eyed. Quiet.
The kind of quiet that meant everything had shifted.
That same day, he'd asked a question he hadn't asked in years: "How accurate are the corridor trace readings?"
Theo gave him a safe answer then. "Accurate enough."
But Cassian hadn't let it go.
He'd requested a discreet pull of scent trace overlap reports. Asked who had passed through a certain corridor the morning after the gala.
Elmont, Lyra.
Scent irregularity: documented.
At the time, Theo thought it was a coincidence. Elmont was efficient. Impressive. He assumed Cassian had been tracking her for promotion.
Until he checked the gala logs.
Private access elevator.
The trace overlap matched only one person.
Cassian Dorne.
Theo had stared at the report for a long time.
This wasn't about productivity. It wasn't about grooming a promising junior staff.
It was personal.
And Cassian remembered. The quiet shift in his expression when Lyra's name came up wasn't casual. It was deliberate. Focused.
And worse, protective.
Theo didn't know if Cassian planned to act on it.
But if the truth came out?
The system wouldn't protect either of them.
So he'd do what he always did.
Watch. Prepare.
And hope it didn't all burn down