Chapter 7 The Line

• The day started like the others.
• Rain again. As if the sky itself couldn’t let go of something it never had the chance to grieve.
• Aurelia moved through the halls of Maddox Global like she’d been trained to be invisible. Coffee in one hand, tablet in the other, head slightly lowered, posture crisp. She was the kind of quiet people respected without ever hearing her voice.
• She didn’t speak much.
• But she saw everything.
• And she felt even more.
• Especially when he was near.
• Callum had told himself he’d stay away today.
• No contact. No detours. No more unnecessary orders. She didn’t deserve his scrutiny. And he didn’t need more reasons to unravel.
• But then he saw her by the glass elevator, wind-tossed hair tucked behind one ear, a paper clenched in her hand like she didn’t know where to deliver it—and his instincts kicked back in like a drug he couldn’t quit.
• So when she stepped into the elevator, he followed.
• Without a word.
• Just proximity.
• Just to see what would happen.
• The silence stretched between them.
• Aurelia kept her eyes forward, but her pulse pounded in her throat.
• He was right behind her. Close enough that if she stepped back, she’d feel his chest against her spine. Close enough to smell that subtle spice he wore—clean, expensive, masculine in a way that made her skin flush.
• She knew she should say nothing.
• But nerves made her tongue loosen.
• And without thinking, she exhaled a laugh—soft, breathy—and said it:
• “You’re my favorite bad idea, Maddox.”
• The words came out on instinct.
• A joke. An attempt to break the tension. She didn’t even know where they’d come from. Had never said them before in her life.
• But she felt the shift the second they hit the air.
• The elevator stilled.
• The floor hadn’t stopped moving.
• But he had.
• Behind her, Callum’s body turned to stone.
• Then—slowly—he moved forward until she could feel his breath on the side of her neck.
• “What did you say?” His voice was low. Rougher than she’d ever heard it.
• Aurelia blinked, startled. “I—just a joke. I didn’t mean—”
• He grabbed her wrist.
• Not hard.
• But firm.
• She gasped and turned to face him.
• His expression wasn’t cold.
• It was wrecked.
• Eyes locked to hers, like he was searching for something buried deep inside her.
• And then he let go.
• The elevator chimed.
• She stumbled out first.
• He didn’t follow.
• Callum stayed inside that metal box long after the doors closed.
• His hands were fists.
• His chest was hollow.
• That phrase.
• Her phrase.
• No one else had ever said it.
• Emery used to say it when she was about to kiss him. Or wreck him. Or both.
• “You’re my favorite bad idea, Maddox.”
• Like loving him was dangerous, and she didn’t care.
• He hadn’t heard it in over two years.
• And now this girl—this stranger with the same fucking eyes—said it like it belonged to her.
• He pressed the emergency stop and leaned back against the wall, dragging a hand through his hair.
• It wasn’t her.
• It couldn’t be.
• But he couldn’t breathe.
• Not with that echo in his head.
• Not with the way Aurelia looked when she said it.
• Like it was muscle memory.
• Like it meant something.
• He punched the elevator wall.
• Once.
• Hard.
• Then fixed his tie.
• Reengaged the panel.
• And made a decision.