CHAPTER ELEVEN
NATHAN
THE SILENCE BETWEEN Elise and me was deafening as she handed me my schedule on Monday morning, her movements crisp and efficient, but there was a chill in the air I hadn’t felt before. She didn’t linger like usual. No teasing comment. No warmth. Just business. Cold, clean, distant.
“Your twelve o’clock lunch with McKenna has been moved to one,” she said, nail tapping lightly against the iPad screen. “I’ve confirmed your meeting with the finance team for three-thirty, and I’ll send over the agenda for this afternoon’s conference call shortly.”
I studied her like I was trying to decode a locked file. Her expression was neutral. But her voice had lost its warmth, and that was enough to tell me everything I needed to know.
This wasn’t just about being professional.
This was about me. About what I’d said. About what I’d done.
But damn it, I hadn’t expected her to retreat this far, this fast. Something twisted in my chest. Irritation, maybe?
The distance between us wasn’t supposed to widen, it was supposed to close.
She was supposed to look at me again the way she did Friday night, with warmth, and maybe even a little desire.
Not like I was a stranger she was counting the days to escape from.
“Elise—”
“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Edge?” she interrupted smoothly, her tone polite but pointed. Like a blade dipped in icing.
Mr. Edge.
The way she said it, so precise, so formal, felt like a shield between us, a line drawn in permanent marker. A name that used to mean respect suddenly sounded like distance. Like punishment.
I stood up from my chair, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “Is this about the karaoke bar?”
She didn’t answer right away, but her grip on the iPad tightened ever so slightly. Still, she kept her eyes on the screen, like if she avoided looking at me, I might disappear.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, her voice cool and composed.
“Yes, you do.” I kept my tone calm, but inside, frustration was beginning to stir. “You’ve been like this all morning.”
Finally, her gaze snapped to mine, and for a second, there it was. That fire. The one that made her a force in and out of my office.
“Like what, exactly? Professional? Isn’t that what you want from your assistant, Mr. Edge?”
Her words landed like a slap. Because she was right. But also, she wasn’t.
“I want my assistant, yes,” I said, slower this time. “But I also want the woman who doesn’t hold back when she has something to say. The woman who isn’t afraid to call me out when I’m being difficult.”
She let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Funny. I seem to recall calling you out the other night, and you didn’t seem to appreciate it then.”
She wasn’t wrong. I’d torn into Warren like a jealous asshole, humiliated him in front of his team, and Elise had called me out without hesitation. She’d stood her ground, even when I tried to bulldoze her.
“Elise,” I said quietly, the edge in my voice softening. “I shouldn’t have said what I said to Warren. It wasn’t fair. Not to him. Not to you.”
She blinked, her defenses flickering. “Is that an apology?”
I nodded once. “Yes. It is.”
Her expression faltered for the briefest moment, like she hadn’t expected that, then she looked away, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s fine. Warren’s over it. And I’ve got more important things to worry about than karaoke drama.”
“Is that all it was to you?” I asked, taking a step closer. “Drama?”
Elise hesitated. A breath caught in her throat. “What else would it be, Mr. Edge?”
The way she said my name this time, it wasn’t a weapon. It was a retreat. And I hated it. I hated that I’d pushed her so far she didn’t know where to stand anymore.
I took another step, closing the space between us. “It didn’t feel like just drama to me,” I said, voice low.
She swallowed hard, but didn’t move away. “Maybe you’re reading too much into it.”
“Maybe,” I said, although I didn’t believe it for a second. “Or maybe you’re trying to convince yourself of something that isn’t true.”
Her mouth parted like she was going to argue, but the phone on my desk buzzed, splitting the moment in two.
Elise stepped back. And just like that, the space between us felt wider than ever.
“I should get back to work,” she said quickly, her tone back to neutral.
“Elise,” I called out, one last try.
Elise paused in the doorway, her hand resting on the frame.“Yes, Mr. Edge?”
I wanted to tell her to not shut me out. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Carry on.”
She nodded once, and then she was gone. Gone, but not really.
Her absence lingered in the room, in the quiet, in the heavy air that settled over my shoulders the second she left.
When the door closed behind her, the silence pressed in again, heavier than before.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to soften, not freeze me out.
But maybe that was the reminder I needed of why this plan had to stay the way it was.
She couldn’t know the truth.
I sat down, rubbing the back of my neck as frustration boiled inside me. Elise pulling away wasn’t just a bruise to my ego—it was a problem. A serious one.
I’d been making progress. Slow, deliberate progress. The plan was to get her to trust me. Get her to soften. Get her to like me. Then date her. Show her the version of me she could actually fall for. Keep it light, keep it fun, just enough real to feel honest, just enough charm to keep her close.
And then, when the timing was right, propose. Marry her before the deadline my father set. Lock it in without ever giving her a reason to question it. What happened after that, I’d deal with when I got there. Because the truth was, I didn’t need a perfect plan. I just needed her to say yes.
Because Elise wasn’t ruthless enough to understand.
She wasn’t built for the kind of sacrifice this world demanded.
She saw the good in people, believed in fair chances and happy endings—things that had no place in boardrooms or billion-dollar negotiations.
If I told her the truth, she’d see it as betrayal.
She’d walk away. And when she did, everything my father built, everything I clawed my way through to protect would crumble with her.
So I’d do what she couldn’t. I’d make the hard choice. I’d keep the truth buried.
It wasn’t about love or lies anymore. It was about survival. About keeping Edge Records alive. Even if it meant showing her only the parts of me I wanted her to see.
Because the truth was, Elise didn’t need to love all of me. She needed to love just enough to say yes when the time came.