Chapter 4 Amelia
The soft hum of fluorescent lights does little to keep me alert as I check my watch. Nearly midnight. The office floor at Hawthorne Industries is eerily empty, except for the security personnel stationed at the front desk. Most employees have gone home for the night.
But not me. Not tonight.
A late-night medical request had landed squarely on my desk. High-stress work environments often require on-call evaluations, but I hadn’t expected to be summoned here.
To his space.
Dominic Hawthorne’s empire is as sleek and controlled as the man himself—cold steel, glass walls, sharp edges. It lacks warmth, much like the man who owns it.
But that’s not why my pulse flutters.
No, it’s the knowledge that he’s still here.
I adjust my bag over my shoulder as I move through the quiet halls, my footsteps muted by plush gray carpet. The instructions had been clear—check in with security, head to the executive floor, conduct a brief evaluation. Simple.
Except nothing about being alone with Dominic Hawthorne has ever been simple.
I press the elevator button. The doors slide open.
I take a steadying breath. I can handle this.
One night doesn’t define a person. And whatever unresolved tension lingers between us is just that—unresolved.
It doesn’t mean anything.
The moment I step onto the executive floor, the air shifts.
It’s heavier here. Quieter. Almost reverent.
I walk past a row of glass-walled offices, but Dominic’s space is impossible to miss. His doors are larger, the lighting dimmer. Power seeps from the walls, an extension of the man himself.
I hesitate before knocking lightly.
“Come in.”
His voice is low, rough, and too damn familiar.
I push the door open and step inside, immediately regretting it.
Dominic leans against his desk, sleeves rolled up, forearms exposed. He looks tired, but exhaustion does nothing to dull the intensity of his presence.
For a man who commands billion-dollar deals and who oversees billion-dollar takeovers he looks entirely too comfortable— as if this late-night meeting is just another calculated move in his game.
His lips curve slightly. Just enough to unsettle me.
“Dr. Grant.”
I force professionalism into my tone. “Mr. Hawthorne. I was informed you needed medical attention.”
He tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It’s protocol.”
I fold my arms. “Meaning?”
“Eleanor insists I undergo occasional evaluations.” He shrugs. “Stress, lack of sleep, long work hours. It’s all very dramatic.”
I exhale sharply. “So you’re wasting my time.”
His smirk deepens. “That depends. Do you consider spending time with me a waste?”
I ignore the bait and set my bag down, pulling out my stethoscope. “Let’s just get this over with.”
His gaze lingers, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he moves to sit by the window, watching me with that quiet intensity that always sets me on edge.
I clear my throat. “Any recent dizziness? Chest pain?”
“No.”
“Headaches?”
“Not the kind you can treat.”
I sigh. “Dominic?—”
He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now. “You always say my name like it’s a warning.”
I freeze, my fingers hovering over his wrist as I check his pulse.
His skin is warm beneath my touch, his pulse steady. Unshaken. Unlike me.
“I say it like I mean it,” I reply.
A beat of silence. Then, he chuckles.
“Fair enough.”
I finish the examination quickly, noting his slightly elevated pulse—not concerning, but certainly telling.
“You’re in good health. Get more sleep, stay hydrated, and cut back on the arrogance.”
His eyes flicker with amusement. “I’ll work on that.”
I pack up my things, eager to put space between us.
“I’ll file my report in the morning.”
But before I can leave, a distant rumble echoes outside. I glance at the window just as lightning splits the sky, illuminating the city in a brief flash.
“Storm’s rolling in,” Dominic murmurs.
I frown. “I should get going.”
“Not in this weather.”
I glance at him, raising a brow. “Since when do you care about my commute?”
His expression darkens, just slightly. “Since you became my employee.”
I shake my head, unwilling to read into that. “I’ll be fine.”
But as I step into the hallway, another crash of thunder shakes the building, and I hesitate.
The rain is coming down in sheets now. The drive home will be miserable.
I sigh, glancing back at him. “Do you need a ride?”
Dominic looks surprised, but he recovers quickly, his lips curling into something that isn’t quite a smirk.
“Are you offering?”
I roll my eyes. “Consider it a professional courtesy.”
He studies me for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”
By the time we reach the parking garage, the storm is relentless. The wind howls through the structure, rain slamming against the concrete.
I unlock my car and slide inside, watching as Dominic follows suit.
As I start the engine, the soft glow of the dashboard casts shadows across his face.
He looks different in this light—less composed, more human.
The rain pounds against the roof as I pull onto the road, the streetlights blurring behind the downpour.
The silence between us is thick, but not uncomfortable.
“So,” he says after a moment. “Do you always offer late-night rides to your bosses?”
I shoot him a look. “Only the insufferable ones.”
He smirks. “Good to know.”
Lightning flashes again, illuminating his profile. And for a second, I forget to breathe.
There’s something about him in this moment—something raw, unguarded.
I grip the wheel tighter. “You never did tell me why you stayed so late.”
His jaw flexes slightly. “I had work to finish.”
“Work that couldn’t wait until morning?”
He exhales, glancing out the window. “Work is easier than sleep sometimes.”
I don’t respond. I know that feeling all too well.
When I finally pull up to his building, I expect him to leave without another word.
But he doesn’t move.
The air inside the car feels warmer now, heavier with something unsaid.
“Thanks for the ride,” he murmurs.
I nod. “Try to get some rest.”
He doesn’t reply, but his gaze lingers on mine.
And then, in a move so subtle I almost miss it, his fingers brush against my wrist before he finally reaches for the door handle.
The touch is fleeting, but it leaves a trail of heat in its wake.
As he steps into the rain, I watch him disappear into the building, my heart pounding far harder than it should.
This is dangerous.
And I don’t think I have the strength to stop it.