Part 10 –
The gala was just a week away.
Tensions buzzed in every corner of Wolfe Enterprises. Teams moved like clockwork tight-lipped, urgent, efficient. Lila had barely left the office in three days. Coffee replaced sleep. Spreadsheets blurred into blueprints. Her once-polished heels were scuffed from pacing between meetings and walkthroughs.
Yet her thoughts always circled back to him.
Ethan Wolfe hadn't spoken to her outside of work-related instructions since their moment in the ballroom. No texts. No lingering glances.
Cold. Controlled.
Exactly as he warned her.
And yet, every word, every breath between them felt charged.
Today, she had to hold it together. The venue walkthrough was scheduled, and media reps were being given a first look at the transformation of the Grand Marlowe Hotel ballroom.
She couldn't afford to let his silence unravel her focus.
Not when everything she'd worked for was about to be on full display.
Grand Marlowe Hotel – Gala Ballroom
Lila stood in the center of the vast ballroom, head tilted as she took in the installation of the customized chandeliers. Golden strands like falling stars, delicate and expensive, lit up the high ceiling.
The floral team was positioning thousands of pale orchids along the walls. The soft scent filled the air.
This wasn't just an event. It was an immersive dream.
Her dream.
And no matter what happened with Ethan, she'd earned this moment.
"You did this," a deep voice said from behind.
She turned slowly.
Ethan stood in the archway, dressed in a sharp black suit, tie loosened just enough to hint at the man behind the armor.
"You should be proud," he said.
Lila blinked, then gave a tight smile. "I am."
Their eyes held for a beat too long.
"You've been quiet," she added carefully.
"I've been watching," he said.
She crossed her arms, defensive rising despite herself. "Judging?"
"No," he said simply. "Admiring."
That stopped her. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't say the right thing if you don't mean it."
Ethan took a slow step toward her, then another, until only a breath separated them.
"I mean it too much," he said softly. "That's the problem."
Lila's heart pounded in her chest.
"Then why are you pulling away?" she whispered.
"Because this us was never supposed to happen."
"But it did," she said, her voice shaking now. "And it's not just me who feels it."
His hand moved, almost on instinct, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered at her cheekbone, rough against her smooth skin.
"I haven't felt like this in years," he admitted, voice low, almost broken. "And I don't know what to do with it."
"Then don't do anything," she whispered. "Just feel it."
He looked down at her lips.
The tension that had been simmering for days, weeks cracked.
He leaned in.
Slow. Uncertain.
And when his lips finally touched hers, it wasn't a kiss fueled by hunger or dominance.
It was reverent. Cautious.
Like he was afraid she'd vanish if he moved too fast.
Lila melted into it. Her hands gripped the lapels of his suit. His mouth grew firmer against hers, the pressure deepening. His restraint barely held.
He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against hers.
"I shouldn't have done that," he breathed.
"I'm glad you did," she answered, eyes still closed.
"But now I can't stop," he confessed.
She smiled heart pounding wildly in her chest. "Then don't."
A second kiss followed. This one wasn't cautious.
This was the kiss that came after weeks of denial, tension, silent longing. He kissed her like he'd wanted to from the first moment she walked into his office with fire in her eyes.
Lila gasped against his mouth as he backed her gently against one of the tall marble columns. His hand tangled in her hair. The other gripped her waist.
She kissed him back with equal fervor, her fingers exploring the planes of his shoulders, the warmth of his neck. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored but right now, it was in the way.
They both froze when a voice echoed down the ballroom.
"Mr. Wolfe? The press team is arriving for the photo preview."
Ethan let go of her like he'd been burned.
He looked at her eyes wild, breathing heavy.
"I have to go," he said hoarsely.
"I know."
He straightened his jacket, but not his composure. That was shattered now.
Before walking away, he turned back.
"This isn't over," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
And then he disappeared down the hall, leaving Lila breathless and pressed against cool marble, wondering how something so electric could still feel so dangerous.