Arden’s POV
The moment I stepped into the office, I could feel it.
The tension.
Not fear—no one here was foolish enough to be afraid in front of me.
But discomfort.
The kind that came when people knew something important was about to break.
My assistant followed behind me silently.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He’s inside, ma’am.”
Of course he was.
I pushed the door open.
And there he was.
Sitting like he owned something he didn’t.
Mr Moriarty.
A man who believed volume and aggression could replace intelligence.
He smiled the moment he saw me.
“Arden Whitlock,” he greeted.
“Always punctual.”
“I don’t recall inviting you here,” I replied calmly.
He chuckled.
“That’s the problem with you women in power. You forget how meetings work.”
My assistant shifted slightly behind me.
I raised a hand.
She stopped immediately.
“I’m listening,” I said flatly.
Moriarty leaned forward.
“It’s simple. I want a partnership. Your transport division, my investment group. We both win.”
“No,” I said immediately.
Silence.
He blinked.
Then laughed.
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did,” I replied.
“That’s why the answer is no.”
His smile faded slightly.
“You’re making a mistake.”
I tilted my head.
“No. You’re under the impression that I need you.”
I stepped closer.
“You don’t bring value. You bring noise.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think you can run a city alone?”
“I don’t think,” I corrected softly.
“I do.”
A beat.
Then I turned away slightly.
“Send him out.”
Security moved immediately.
Moriarty stood.
“You’ll regret this, Whitlock.”
I didn’t look at him.
“I don’t regret decisions I was never uncertain about.”
He was escorted out.
I didn’t look at him as he was escorted out.
The door closed.
Silence followed.
A heavy kind of silence.
The kind that didn’t leave immediately.
I exhaled slowly.
My assistant spoke carefully behind me.
“That could escalate.”
“It will,” I replied.
A pause.
“…Are you still going home tonight?”
Muse.
The image of her surfaced immediately.
Waiting.
Probably smiling at Ms Irene.
Probably safe.
“Yes,” I said.
But even as I said it—
I knew I wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
“I need to handle something first,” I added.
I turned toward my desk and sat down.
“Bring in all pending files.”
My assistant hesitated for a moment before nodding.
Moments later, the work began.
Stack after stack.
Report after report.
It had been two weeks since I last properly stayed in this office.
That was… uncharacteristic.
Corrected what needed correction.
Rejected what didn’t meet standard.
Approved what aligned with strategy.
Hours passed without notice.
At some point, I rolled up my sleeves.
Then kept going.
There was no pause.
No distraction.
Except—
Every so often, my thoughts drifted.
Muse.
Waiting.
Not complaining.
Not demanding.
Just existing in my space as if she belonged there.
I frowned slightly and focused harder on the documents.
Eventually—
A knock.
“Come in.”
My assistant stepped inside.
“Ma’am, are you ready to leave?”
I glanced at the last file.
Closed it.
“Yes.”
I stood and adjusted my coat.
As I left the building, I asked, “What time is it?”
“Past 11 p.m., ma’am.”
I stopped walking.
“…What?”
“Yes, ma’am. You’ve been working for quite a while.”
I exhaled sharply.
I had told her I would be home early.
Muse was waiting.
“…Let’s go,” I said.
We headed toward the car.
As I got in, one thought settled heavily in my mind.
I hope she isn’t upset.
And worse—
I wasn’t entirely sure I could handle it if she was.