Cracks in the Ice

Ethan Wen had always believed in control.

Control over his company. Control over his employees. Control over his own damn emotions.

But lately, there was a crack in that control.

And that crack had a name.

Noah Reid.

Tuesday – 7:45 AM

Ethan arrived at the office early. Not because he had to—but because he needed space.

Needed to shake off the lingering tension from yesterday’s panel discussion, from Noah’s unreadable smirk, from the way his chest had tightened when he saw approval in Noah’s eyes.

He had never cared about anyone’s approval before.

Why was this different?

He stepped into his office, exhaling sharply—only to freeze.

Noah was already there.

Sitting at his desk.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing in my chair?"

Noah looked up, completely unbothered. "I needed a change of perspective."

Ethan’s fingers twitched. "Get out."

Noah didn’t move.

Instead, he tilted his head, studying Ethan with those sharp blue eyes—the way a strategist studied the battlefield before striking.

"Why are you here so early, sir?"

Ethan scoffed. "Why are you here so early?"

Noah leaned back in the chair—his chair—and crossed his legs. "Because I knew you would be."

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "And why would I be here early?"

Noah smiled. "Because you’re trying to avoid something."

There was a beat of silence.

Ethan clenched his fists.

He hated how easily Noah could see through him.

"You’re projecting," Ethan said flatly.

Noah shrugged, standing up—finally relinquishing the chair as he moved toward Ethan, stopping just a step too close.

"I don’t run from things, sir."

The challenge was unspoken. Do you?

Ethan inhaled through his nose, stepping past him. "You’re annoying."

Noah chuckled. "That’s also in my job description, sir."

Ethan didn’t look back.

Because if he did, he might notice how close Noah had been. How his cologne—clean, fresh, with a hint of citrus—still lingered in the air.

And that?

That would be dangerous.

Wednesday – 12:20 PM

Ethan was reviewing reports when a knock interrupted him.

He didn’t look up. "What?"

Noah stepped inside, holding a sleek black folder. "The proposal for the new mentorship program is finalized. I thought you might want to review it before it goes to the board."

Ethan waved a hand. "Just approve it yourself."

Noah raised a brow. "That’s…surprisingly trusting of you, sir."

Ethan frowned. "You’ve already manipulated me into half these programs. What difference does one more make?"

Noah’s lips twitched. "So you admit I’ve been manipulating you?"

Ethan looked up then, meeting Noah’s gaze.

His heart did something annoying in his chest.

"You’re still standing there," Ethan pointed out.

Noah’s smile didn’t fade. "And you’re still looking at me, sir."

Silence stretched.

A slow, unbearable tension coiled between them.

Noah knew.

Knew that Ethan was starting to notice him. Knew that Ethan had been thinking about him more than he should.

And worst of all—Noah was enjoying it.

Ethan exhaled sharply, breaking the eye contact. "Get out."

Noah chuckled. "Of course, sir."

And just like that, he was gone.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

This was a problem.

A problem he didn’t know how to fix.

Thursday – 8:47 PM

The office was quiet. Most employees had already gone home.

Ethan was still at his desk, finishing reports, when the door opened.

Noah walked in, holding two cups of coffee.

Ethan raised a brow. "I don’t remember asking for coffee."

Noah placed one cup on his desk anyway. "You’ve been here for twelve hours straight. You need it."

Ethan eyed him. "Since when do you care?"

Noah didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a sip of his own coffee, watching Ethan with that same unreadable expression.

Finally, he said, "It’s in my job description, sir."

Ethan scoffed. "You keep saying that."

Noah smiled faintly. "Because it’s true."

Something about the way he said it made Ethan pause.

There was something unspoken in those words.

Something Ethan wasn’t ready to confront.

So instead, he picked up the coffee, took a sip—and immediately scowled.

"This has sugar in it."

Noah’s expression didn’t change. "Yes."

Ethan glared. "I don’t take sugar in my coffee."

Noah tilted his head. "Maybe you should."

Ethan exhaled sharply. "And why the hell would I do that?"

Noah leaned forward slightly, his voice smooth. "Because you might enjoy it."

The words hung between them, heavy with something else.

Ethan’s grip on the cup tightened.

Noah was pushing him. Testing him.

And the worst part?

Ethan wasn’t sure if he wanted to push back—or give in.

Because for the first time in his life, Ethan Wen wasn’t sure who was really in control anymore.

And he hated it

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