Just Once

Chapter14-Zayden

The flight to London was quiet, but the tension was anything but. Sofia sat across from me, her laptop open, her fingers flying over the keyboard with the kind of precision that made you wonder if she could cut someone open with her words alone.

She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge me, but the air between us was charged. Last night still lingered-her sharp words, the way she'd handled that man, the fire in her eyes when she'd told me she wasn't playing defense anymore. And then there was that moment before I left her penthouse, the way her gaze had held mine, the unspoken challenge in her silence.

I leaned back in my seat, smirking as I watched her. "You're awfully quiet, Petal. Planning my demise?"

Her fingers paused for half a second, just long enough for me to notice, before she resumed typing. "If I were, you wouldn't see it coming."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Good to know."

The rest of the flight passed in a similar rhythm-me poking, her deflecting, neither of us acknowledging the undercurrent that had been building since the gala.

The jet touched down smoothly, the London skyline glittering in the distance as we descended. Sofia was already on her feet before the crew had even opened the doors, gathering her things with practiced efficiency.

"Eager, are we?" I asked, following her down the steps.

She didn't even glance back. "We have work to do, Zayden. Try to keep up."

The car waiting for us was sleek and understated, the kind of car that screamed power without trying too hard. Sofia slid into the backseat without hesitation, and I joined her, the door shutting with a soft click.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across her face. She was focused, her gaze fixed on the window, her mind clearly a thousand miles ahead of us.

The meeting with Marcus Lang was set for later that evening, in a private club that reeked of exclusivity and hidden agendas. Sofia and I arrived together, our presence drawing eyes as we entered the dimly lit space.

Lang was waiting for us in a corner booth, his smile slick and calculated as he stood to greet us.

"Ms. Volkov, Mr. Meadows," he said, extending a hand.

"Mr. Lang," Sofia replied, her tone cool and professional. She didn't bother introducing me, and I didn't mind. She was in her element, and I was content to let her take the lead-for now.

We sat, the conversation unfolding like a chess match. Sofia was sharp, her questions precise, her demeanor unyielding. Lang tried to play coy, but it was clear he was outmatched.

After what felt like an eternity, the meeting finally wrapped up. Lang left, his confidence visibly shaken, and Sofia and I stepped out into the cool London night.

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet again, but this time, the silence was heavier, laden with the weight of what we'd learned.

When we arrived, Sofia headed straight for the elevator, her pace brisk and determined. I followed, watching the way her shoulders squared as if she were already planning her next move.

The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside. The ride up was silent, the tension between us coiling tighter with each passing second.

When the doors opened, she strode out, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she headed for her suite.

She stopped in front of her door, turning to face me. "Goodnight, Zayden," she said, her tone clipped.

I stepped closer, my gaze locking onto hers. "You're not going to invite me in for a drink? After all, we did just survive Marcus Lang together."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smirk. "I didn't realize surviving Marcus Lang was such a harrowing experience for you."

I chuckled, closing the distance between us. "Not harrowing. Just... stimulating."

Her eyes narrowed, but there was a spark there-something dangerous, something I couldn't quite place.

The silence stretched, heavy and charged, and before I could think better of it, I leaned in.

"Sofia," I murmured, my voice low.

Her eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

And then it happened.

It wasn't planned, and it wasn't slow. It was sudden, a collision of heat and fire that left no room for thought. Our lips met, a clash of wills as much as desire, and for a moment, the tension that had been simmering between us ignited into something neither of us could control.

It lasted only a moment-a fleeting, burning moment-but when we pulled back, the air between us was electric.

Her eyes searched mine, her breathing uneven. "That was... unexpected," she said, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it.

I smirked, though my pulse was racing. "You can say that again."

She didn't respond, her gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer before she turned, opening the door and stepping inside.

"Goodnight, Zayden," she said one last time, her voice steady now.

The door clicked shut, leaving me standing there, my thoughts a tangled mess.

Unexpected didn't even begin to cover it.

And yet, as I walked to my own suite, I couldn't shake the feeling that it wouldn't be the last time it happened.

Not by a long shot.