Oliver’s hand rests at the small of my back as we step into the owner’s office for the second time, but even his firm and steady support isn’t enough to stop the churn of dread in my gut.
Hugh is still behind his desk, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone. There’s no give or mercy in him. Evelyn sits poised on the couch, her posture elegant, her calm deliberate. It’s too careful and too measured. Somehow, her composure unnerves me more than Hugh’s icy glare.
“The rules are in place for a reason,” Hugh reiterates without preamble, his tone slicing clean through the silence. “You signed a no-fraternization clause, Rina. I want that to be clear. This isn’t a gray area. It’s a violation. Pure and simple.”
His voice is cold.
Professional.
And the shame of it sears through me, branding itself into my skin because he’s not wrong. I knew the rules and the risks. But somewhere between the lines of that contract and the way Oliver looked at me, I stopped caring about the consequences.
“I—” My throat clogs with emotion as the words stick like glass shards. “I understand.”
Beside me, Oliver shifts in his seat, his jaw ticking hard enough that I can feel the ripple of his fury. The room vibrates with it. If he opens his mouth, it won’t be pretty.
I squeeze his hand, silently begging him not to make the situation worse.
Hugh’s gaze doesn’t soften. Not even a fraction. “But in light of your pregnancy, we’re going to keep this matter private for the time being while I consult with our lawyers. The last thing this organization needs is a former employee slapping us with a lawsuit for picking and choosing who’s in breach of contract. Make no mistake, you’re not out of the woods yet.”
A clock ticks somewhere behind his desk, each second dragging across my nerves. For just a moment, something almost like regret flickers across Hugh’s face. It’s there and gone before I can fully register it.
An icy ripple runs through me.
Even though he doesn’t say it, I know what he’s thinking. The wrong headline could ruin more than just our reputations. It could take the entire team down. The warning hangs heavy as a shudder works its way through me.
“Yes,” I manage, the reply thin but steady. “I understand.”
When Evelyn finally speaks, her tone is smooth as silk. “We’ll find a way to make this work.”
Her gaze shifts to Hugh, and something unspoken passes between them. He remains perfectly still, jaw tight, as tension buzzes in the air like static.
Instead of relief flooding through me, unease curls in my gut.
Was it my work that saved me from being fired?
Or Evelyn’s influence?
Gratitude intertwines with guilt until I can’t tell the difference between the two. I want to believe I earned this reprieve through hard work and my unwavering dedication to the Railers organization, but the truth is, Evelyn’s grace feels more like borrowed time.
“Thank you,” I whisper, trying not to sound as broken as I feel. “For not firing me.”
Oliver’s hand tightens around mine, his grip firm and unwavering, as if he’s seconds away from telling Hugh exactly where to shove his rules. The protectiveness radiating off him sparks an ache deep inside me. No one’s ever stood this fiercely at my side or offered to take a hit to their own career so I could keep mine.
I should be unnerved by how easily this man grounds me, but in this moment, I can’t bring myself to care.
I’m just grateful.
Safety isn’t something I’ve ever found in another person. And yet, with Oliver, it feels too easy to forget why I built the walls in the first place.
Evelyn clears her throat, trying to smooth over the jagged edges of the moment. “We’ll revisit this at a later date. For now, Rina stays and we’ll handle whatever comes next together.”
The look she gives me feels less like a promise and more like a shield.
With a nod, I blink against the sting of tears that are threatening to break free.
Oliver and I rise to our feet. Hugh leans back in his chair while Evelyn’s gaze lingers on him, quiet tension passing between them. It unsettles me in a way I can’t explain.
Instead of guiding me this time, Oliver’s steps match my own, his body angled close, as if to protect me from the weight pressing on my shoulders.
