The Breaking Point
It was nearly midnight when Muri returned to the office. She'd left her phone charger behind, and the building was mostly dark, lit only by soft emergency lights. Her heels clicked lightly on the tile as she moved through the quiet halls.
She wasn't expecting anyone else to be there.
But Lex was.
He was in the conference room, alone, the door cracked open, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loose around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair as he stared at a stack of reports.
He looked up the moment she appeared.
"You're still here?" she asked, voice low.
"Could say the same to you."
"I forgot something." She stepped in. "Didn't expect to find you in full brooding CEO mode."
Lex gave a humorless chuckle. "Didn't expect to see you again tonight. Guess we're both unlucky."
She walked closer. "You sure about that?"
Silence stretched between them, heavy and electric.
Then he stood—slowly, like he was trying not to spook her. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, Muri?"
Her breath hitched. "I think so."
He crossed the room in two steps, stopping just inches away. "You flirt. You tease. You whisper things that haunt me."
"Then stop me," she said softly.
Lex's jaw clenched. "I've been trying to."
He reached up, cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheek where that frosting stain had been the day before. "I can't think straight when you're near me."
"Then don't think," she breathed.
And that was it.
He kissed her.
Not soft. Not careful.
It was the kind of kiss that burned—weeks of tension exploding between them like a match to dry leaves. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her against him, her fingers gripping his shirt as if she'd been waiting just as long.
She broke the kiss first, just enough to speak.
"So much for control," she whispered.
Lex looked down at her, his forehead resting against hers. "That was me losing it."
Muri smiled. "Good."
He kissed her again, slower this time—more dangerous in a different way.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, Muri knew: this wasn't just a game anymore.