Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Isla
“Mrs. Wu, I assure you the structural integrity cannot be compromised without triggering multiple failsafes.” My voice carries across the Ethics Committee room with more confidence than I feel. The morning light streaming through the expansive windows does nothing to soften Mrs. Wu’s sharp gaze.
Mrs. Wu taps her tablet, and the schematics appear.
“Like the failsafes that were breached last week, Ms. Carrington?”
Eli’s shoulder brushes mine. A silent reminder I’m not facing this alone, even if old habits die hard.
“That breach showed us where to strengthen our defenses.” I reach for the remote. Our fingers touch. I let him take it, ignoring the familiar jolt of awareness.
“Which is why,” Eli says, changing the display, “we’ve separated the critical support structures from the main framework. Triple redundancy.”
“Project Cornerstone had redundancies too.”
The photos on the wall stare back at me. Young faces. Lost lives.
“This isn’t Cornerstone.” My voice turns sharp. “Every safety measure, every system, carries those lessons.”
Eli moves closer. He brings up the new protocols, and pride flickers through me seeing our work merged so seamlessly.
“The structural reinforcements require three-level verification before any changes?—”
Drake’s message flashes.
Wolfe’s team attempted access. Call ASAP.
I swipe it away.
“Additionally,” Eli picks up, covering my momentary pause, “we’ve incorporated advanced monitoring protocols. Any unauthorized access attempts are flagged and logged immediately.”
Mrs. Wu leans forward, her expression softening slightly.
“Show me the verification process.”
For the next few minutes, Eli and I move in perfect sync, demonstrating the layers of security we’ve built. Our hands nearly touch again as we work, and this time I don’t pull away. We need this unity, this strength.
“And the supplier delays?” Sarah Thompson asks from her seat beside Mrs. Wu. “How do they impact the timeline?”
“They don’t,” I say firmly. “We’ve adjusted the installation schedule to accommodate the delay without compromising our completion date or safety standards.”
Mrs. Wu examines us for a long moment. Finally, she nods.
“Proceed with the implementation. But Ms. Carrington, Mr. Alderidge—we’ll be watching closely.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. One hurdle down. But Drake’s message burns in my mind, and Eli’s warmth beside me is an entirely different kind of challenge.
The committee’s footsteps fade down the hallway.
Beyond the frosted glass walls of the innovation division, movement catches my eye.
Sophia paces near her workstation, her tablet clutched against her chest like a shield.
Her first major presentation to the project team is in ten minutes, and from her expression, she’s spiraling.
“Go,” Eli says quietly beside me. “I’ll handle the follow-up documentation.”
I hesitate, Drake’s message still weighing on me.
“You sure?”
“I think your protégé needs you more than I need your signature right now.” His lips quirk in that half-smile that still makes my stomach flip. “Besides, I’ve seen how you mentor her. She’s got this—she just needs to believe it.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his observation. I push it away and head for Sophia, who’s now muttering to herself in Spanish.
“Respira,” I say, touching her shoulder. “Deep breath.”
She jumps.
“Isla! I mean, Ms. Carrington. I was just reviewing the integration specs again and I noticed a potential conflict with the third-floor supports that might?—”
“Sophia.” I take her tablet, setting it aside. “You’ve triple-checked every calculation. The team isn’t looking for perfection—they’re looking for potential. Show them your passion for this project, and the rest will follow.”
“But what if they ask about the reinforcement calculations? Or the backup support routing? Or?—”
“Then you’ll answer honestly, even if that answer is ‘I’ll look into that.’ Remember what I told you about my first presentation?”
A small smile breaks through her panic.
“The one where you accidentally called Mr. Alderidge Senior ‘sir’ seventeen times?”
“Sixteen,” I correct, laughing. “But I knew my stuff, even when I was terrified. Just like you do.”
The project team starts filtering into the conference room. Through the glass, I catch Eli watching us, something soft in his expression that makes my heart stutter.
Sophia takes a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.”
“Damn right you can.” I hand her tablet back. “Now go show them why I hired you.”
She straightens her shoulders and walks into the conference room. I follow, taking a seat next to Eli, who’s slipped in quietly.
“The structural integration,” Sophia begins, her voice gaining strength with each word, “represents a crucial junction between sustainability and security.”
Pride swells as she navigates through her presentation. When she handles a particularly tough question about the reinforcement networks, I feel Eli’s knee brush mine under the table. A silent acknowledgment of her growth—and maybe mine too.
“Reminds me of someone else who used to challenge conventional design theories,” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.
I should move my leg away. I don’t.
The air between us thickens with unspoken possibilities, until my phone’s harsh chime shatters the moment.
One crisis averted. Too many are still waiting.
The project team disperses with quiet murmurs of approval, leaving Sophia beaming as she gathers her materials. I’m about to check Drake’s message when Eli clears his throat beside me.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
I look up from my tablet to find Eli watching me, his expression unreadable.
“What?”
“To celebrate the committee approval, Sophia’s success. Professional milestones deserve recognition.” His tone stays carefully neutral, but his knee presses against mine under the table, a silent contradiction to his words.
“Professional milestones,” I repeat, remembering other celebrations that started professionally and ended with considerably less restraint.
“APEX at eight?” He names the new rooftop restaurant overlooking our construction site. “We can review the supplier contracts, if you want to keep things strictly business.”
“Strictly business.” The words taste false on my tongue. His knee hasn’t moved.
“Of course.” That half-smile plays at his lips, the one that used to precede our most unprofessional moments. “Unless...”
“Unless?”
“Unless you’re afraid to be alone with me, Isla.”
I meet his gaze, pulse quickening at the challenge there.
“I’m not afraid of anything, Eli.”
The words taste bold, but the weight in my chest says otherwise. Saying yes is reckless. Saying no means losing whatever this is before I figure out what I even want. Either choice feels like a mistake.
“Prove it.”
Before I can respond, Sophia appears, practically bouncing with excitement.
“They loved the support network modifications! And Ms. Thompson actually asked for more details about the stability control integration, and—” She stops, glancing between us.
“Sorry, am I interrupting?”
“No,” I say, just as Eli says, “Yes.”
A knowing smile tugs at Sophia’s lips. “I’ll just... go update the project files. Thanks again for everything, Isla.”
Eli stands as she leaves, taking his warmth with him.
“Eight o’clock,” he says softly. “Unless you have a better offer?”
My fingers tighten around my tablet. I should tell him. About Drake, about Wolfe, about how keeping him out of this doesn’t feel like protection—it feels like betrayal. But the words tangle at the back of my throat. He watches me, waiting, but then?—
“I’ll be there.” The words escape before I can stop them. “Strictly business.”
Eli’s jaw tenses for half a second—so quick, I might have imagined it.
But I know that look. The one he gives when he wants to say something but doesn’t.
When he’s trying to understand why I keep my walls up after all this time.
Instead, he just nods, his usual easy control slipping back into place.
“Whatever you say, Isla.” He pauses at the door. “Wear something nice. The view’s spectacular at sunset.”
I watch him leave, following his path through the glass walls until he disappears into the elevator. My phone buzzes again—Drake’s third message in an hour. The screen lights up with his warning.
Found connection between Wolfe and original property deed. Meeting him tonight. Don’t trust anyone.
“Shit.” The word escapes on a breath.
I should be thinking about Wolfe. About the property deeds.
About what Drake’s risking tonight. But all I can feel is the lingering press of Eli’s knee against mine, the way he looked at me like he already knew I’d say yes.
The way I wish, just for a second, I could let him in instead of pushing him away.
Don’t trust anyone.
But it might already be too late for that.
My office feels suddenly too small, too exposed. I pace between the windows, Drake’s message burning into my brain. The construction site looms in the distance, steel beams rising against the historic fa?ade. Drake’s investigating Wolfe to protect us, but keeping it from Eli feels wrong.
The glass walls frost instantly, giving me privacy. “Show me Drake’s security clearance activity.”
“Mr. Thorne is currently accessing historical property records,” my assistant responds. “Would you like me to connect you?”
My fingers hover over the screen. Telling Eli would mean pulling him into a fight he might not be ready for. Keeping him out of it might mean letting him walk blind into danger. Either way, someone gets hurt.
Before I can respond, my phone rings. Eli’s name flashes on the screen, sending an entirely different kind of tension through my body.
“I forgot to mention,” he says when I answer. “Wear the emerald dress.”
“You remember that dress?”
“I remember everything, Isla.” The weight of five years hangs between us. “Including how it matches your eyes when you’re trying not to smile.”
I bite my lip. “This is a business dinner, remember?”
“Of course.” His voice carries that dangerous warmth I remember too well. “Just like that charity gala was strictly business.”
The memory of his tie on his car floor flashes through my mind.
“That was different. We were?—”
“Different people?” His voice softens. “Maybe. Or maybe we’re finally becoming who we were always meant to be.”
Through the window, the construction site looms. Drake’s message blinks on my phone.
Will fill you in after the meeting. Keep Eli clear until we know what we’re dealing with.
“Isla?”
“Eight o’clock,” I say before I can change my mind. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He pauses. “And Isla? Whatever’s weighing on you... you don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”
The line goes dead before I can respond. I press my forehead against the cool glass, watching the sunset paint our building in shades of gold and shadow. In a few hours, I’ll be sitting across from Eli, wearing that damn dress, pretending my heart isn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of protection pressing down. Drake’s right to investigate, but keeping Eli in the dark feels like betrayal.
The emerald dress hangs in my closet at home, untouched since that night five years ago. I remember how Eli’s eyes followed me, how his fingers traced the silk at my waist during our last dance.
Tonight... My shoulders square. Tonight’s different.
The sun sets behind the Artisan Hotel’s skeleton, painting our future in gold and shadow. My phone buzzes with Drake’s warning while memories of emerald silk and Eli’s touch war in my mind.
Years ago, I thought keeping secrets was the same as keeping someone safe. But watching the city lights flicker against the glass, Eli’s voice still echoing in my mind, I wonder if pushing him away will do more damage than letting him in.