Chapter Six: A Cage of Glass and Fire

(Ariadne Asselina Ildelfonso's POV)

The past was no longer knocking.

It had stepped over the threshold.

And I was trapped inside with it.

I stared at Gavyn, my grip tightening around the report in my hands as the weight of his words settled over me like chains.

We would be traveling together.

To London.

For an entire month.

My stomach twisted.

"You don’t seem thrilled," Gavyn murmured, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

I forced my expression into neutrality. "I didn’t expect to be included in the international team."

"Didn’t you?"

His voice was smooth. Too smooth.

It made me want to break something.

Bella nudged me, completely oblivious to the firestorm inside me. "This is huge, Yannie! You’ll be handling the overseas launch firsthand!"

Ahsirt grinned. "And with him."

I snapped my head toward her, my eyes narrowing.

She raised her hands in mock innocence. "I mean, he is leading the project, after all."

Gavyn chuckled. "We’ll make a great team."

Liar.

I clenched my jaw. "I need to finish my morning tasks."

It was the only excuse I could muster before grabbing my laptop and walking away—not fleeing—to my office.

But before I could shut the door, a foot wedged itself between the frame.

Gavyn.

Of course.

I exhaled sharply. "Do you need something, Mr. Del Herrera?"

His smirk was slow, deliberate. "Mr. Del Herrera?"

I crossed my arms. "That’s your name, isn’t it?"

He leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked into his pockets. "So formal. It’s almost insulting."

"You’ll survive."

"Will I?"

I refused to play this game with him.

I stepped back, fully intending to slam the door shut

But he slipped inside before I could stop him.

The air thickened instantly.

I inhaled sharply. "Gavyn—"

"Do you really think this will work?" he asked quietly.

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"This wall you’ve built," he said, gesturing between us. "Do you really think it’ll hold?"

I hated how my breath caught.

I hated how his presence felt like wildfire in a locked room, threatening to consume the oxygen around me.

So I did what I did best.

I shut down.

I schooled my expression into something cold, unfeeling. "We work together now. That’s all that matters."

Gavyn studied me for a long moment.

Then he did something that rattled me to my core.

He stepped closer.

Not enough to touch.

But enough that I felt the warmth of him.

Enough that his cologne—wood, spice, and something dangerously familiar—wrapped around me like a noose.

"You can keep pretending, kitten," he murmured. "But you forget—"

His voice lowered.

"I know exactly how to break you."

I snapped.

I shoved him back, my eyes flashing with fury. "You don’t know me anymore."

His smirk didn’t waver. "Are you sure about that?"

I wasn’t.

And that was the problem.

For the next few weeks, I drowned myself in work.

Meetings. Reports. Projections.

Anything to distract myself from the storm brewing inside me.

Gavyn, to my frustration, was always there.

Watching. Studying. Testing the limits of my restraint.

But I never cracked.

Not once.

Then came the flight to London.

And everything collapsed.

I was prepared for turbulence.

I was not prepared for this.

"There’s been a last-minute seating adjustment," the flight attendant informed us as we boarded. "Ms. Ildelfonso, you’ll be sitting beside Mr. Del Herrera."

I went rigid.

I turned sharply toward the woman. "There must be a mistake—"

"Actually," Gavyn interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. "That arrangement is fine."

I glared at him.

The flight attendant, oblivious to the war happening between us, smiled brightly. "Perfect! Enjoy your flight!"

I clenched my fists.

Gavyn gestured to the seat beside him. "Shall we?"

I considered bolting.

But I had no choice.

So I sat.

The flight took off.

And the war began.

Two hours in, I realized something.

There was nowhere to escape.

Gavyn sat beside me, impossibly calm despite the tension between us.

I kept my focus on my laptop, pretending to work.

But he saw through it.

"You keep running from me," he mused.

I didn’t look at him. "You overestimate your importance."

A chuckle. "Do I?"

I clenched my jaw.

Silence stretched.

Then—

"Why did you leave that night?" he asked softly.

I went completely still.

He didn’t elaborate.

He didn’t need to.

We both knew exactly which night he was talking about.

I stared at my screen, my throat tightening. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does to me."

I forced out a hollow laugh. "Too little, too late."

Gavyn exhaled slowly. "You’re still angry."

I finally looked at him.

And when I did—

All the years of pain came flooding back.

"You don’t get to ask me that," I whispered.

His expression shifted.

Guilt.

Regret.

Something deeper.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he murmured.

I inhaled sharply. "Then why did you?"

He didn’t answer.

Because we both knew—

Some wounds couldn’t be undone.

By the time we arrived in London, my walls were cracked.

But they hadn’t shattered.

Not yet.

We checked into the hotel, each of us assigned separate rooms.

I exhaled in relief.

Finally, some distance.

Or so I thought.

A few hours later—

A knock on my door.

I opened it.

And froze.

Gavyn stood there.

Rain-drenched.

Unsteady.

And his eyes—

Haunted.

Before I could react, he spoke.

"I think I made a mistake, kitten."

I should have shut the door.

I should have walked away.

But against every ounce of reason—

I let him in.

And that…

Was my first mistake.

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