Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 52: Something Broke

ISABELLA’S POV

I swallowed hard.

Levi, blissfully unaware, gave a casual wave and turned to leave. "See you around, Bella."

"Sure." I waved back, but my focus was already across the street.

Adrien hadn’t moved. Not an inch. His arms still crossed. His eyes sharp. His expression unreadable—but definitely not friendly.

My heart was racing—not because of Levi, but because of him.

What’s his deal?

I crossed the street, the sun suddenly feeling way too hot, and stopped right in front of him.

"Mr. Walton," I said evenly, keeping my posture calm even though I felt anything but calm. "Are you going somewhere?"

His eyes didn’t move from Levi’s retreating figure. "Who was that?"

I blinked. "A friend."

Finally, he turned to me and it felt like staring into ice. "Do friends often show up unannounced to your office during work hours and take you out to lunch?"

I didn’t flinch. "You said I could go have lunch. So I did."

"That wasn’t the question."

His tone was calm, but the tension hung in the air like a wire pulled too tight. His eyes dropped briefly to my arm—where Levi had touched me—and then flicked back up, harder now.

I folded my arms. "Do I need to start submitting a list of who I eat with now?"

His gaze slid over me like he was calculating every word. "Not yet."

Not yet?

"Let’s go," he said suddenly, turning and heading toward the building. I rushed to catch up, my thoughts still scrambling. What was that all about? Was I going to get fired for having lunch with a friend?

But seriously—how? How did he even get down here so fast? Our building had fifty-something floors. Did he teleport? Take the express elevator of doom? And for what? To interrogate me like I was skipping work to flirt in an alley?

What even was this?

As we stepped through the revolving doors, the cool lobby air felt normal, like nothing had happened.

No one would guess he had just appeared like some executive superhero to confront me about my lunch break.

We stepped into the lobby like nothing had happened. Like we weren’t walking side by side in stiff silence after that weirdly intense sidewalk showdown.

The receptionist glanced up from her screen but didn’t say a word—probably sensing the storm cloud Adrien was carrying around like a designer briefcase.

Without a glance at me, he strode toward the private elevator. The one only he and a few select execs had access to.

Of course he expected me to follow. So I did.

The doors slid shut behind us, sealing us into sleek steel and silence.

The air was cool. Quiet. Too quiet.

I kept my gaze fixed on the numbers as they blinked upward.

One floor. Two.

And then—

His hand shot out and hit the emergency stop.

He took a step closer, invading my personal space. "Is he pursuing you?"

I blinked, surprised by the directness of his question. "That’s... irrelevant," I stammered.

is he okay upstairs?

"Irrelevant?" He scoffed. "Everything is relevant. Your personal life affects your work. If you are distracted by romantic pursuits..."

"I’m not distracted," I interrupted, my voice going up a little. "I am perfectly capable of separating my personal and professional life, Mr. Walton."

He stared at me for what felt like forever, scanning my eyes and I scanned his, refusing to back down.

"My personal life is none of your business!" I pushed back, although the space between us and how intensely he was staring made it a bit hard to keep my voice steady. "Levi is a friend. And honestly, even if he wasn’t it has nothing to do with me performing my job."

"it doesn’t?" He leaned in just a bit, his eyes trailing down to my lips for a split second before snapping back up. "Distractions are costly. And some distractions... are unacceptable."

My heart raced against my ribs.

I took a breath, ready to say something that would snap the thread of whatever this was—but he moved again. Just a fraction closer. Close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.

Close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

I hated the way my pulse jumped. Hated that I noticed how his jaw clenched like he was fighting some internal war.

"You’re not my concern," His voice was low. Controlled. Too controlled. "But you’re under contract. So, you’re a representation of this company. Of me."

I laughed, short and disbelieving. "Oh, so now my lunch choices are a PR issue?"

His eyes narrowed. "It’s not about lunch."

"Then what is it about?" I demanded, stepping forward without meaning to. "Because I’m trying to understand why you came all the way downstairs to interrogate me like I broke some sacred workplace law."

His silence said everything and nothing at once.

We stared at each other, the elevator humming between us. The numbers stayed frozen—still on the emergency stop, though neither of us had acknowledged it.

He let out a deep breath, like he was trying to calm whatever was happening inside of him. Then—

He moved.

His hand found the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, and I had one wild second to react before his mouth crashed onto mine.

My brain went dead. What? Every thought vanished, replaced by the sheer, undeniable sensation of his mouth moving against mine. I stood there frozen for a second, completely stunned, my hands instinctively reaching out and landing flat against the solid wall of his chest.

Then, something shifted. Shock ran into a million different and confusing pieces. Anger wrestled with... something else Between the heat of his body and the obscenity of the kiss... I was jolted like a plasma bolt stripping off the bed sheets on a hot day.

He pressed closer, deepening the kiss and a low, growl slipped from his chest as his fingers tightened slightly in my hair, and without thinking, my hands, which had been hanging out uselessly instinctively came up, one flat against his chest and the other grasping his arm. I couldn’t tell if I was pushing him away or trying to hang on.

It was wrong. So, so very wrong. He was my boss, a villain one at that. We had just been arguing.

But the kiss... it tasted like danger and something fiercely possessive.

I parted my lips slightly under his, a soft gasp escaped my throat into his mouth and he swallowed it, like he needed it. Like this kiss was punishment and release and an apology all in one; all in a moment that had no logic. The kiss deepened again, it was no longer aggressive, it was... hungry. He stroked my skin at the base of my skull, it sent shivers down my spine. The anger was replaced by whirling sensation and rush of dizzying realization.

For a long, breathless moment, nothing existed but his mouth on mine, the hum of the silent elevator, and the frantic beat of my own heart.

Then, as abruptly as it had started, it ended.

but slowly; his forehead pressing lightly on mine and dragging his lips lightly across mine to finally lift. His eyes were dark and intense as he searched mine with an unreadable expression, and his breathing was heavy... without the carefully controlled calmness from earlier.

"This... is a distraction." He murmured.

The silence returned, heavier and more suffocating than before. The air was abuzz with things that remained unsaid, with the remnants of the unsettling contact.

My lips were still buzzing. My heart was racing against my ribcage like it was trying to break free.

I was speechless. My brain was straining to catch up to make sense of the moment it just experienced. He kissed me. My boss kissed me. In a stopped elevator. After saying I was distracted due to a friend.

What. The. Actual. Hell.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking a bit out of sorts—definitely not his usual controlled self. Yet the intensity in his eyes didn’t fade, though I caught a brief flash of something else, maybe confusion or regret, in his expression.

"What was that?" I whispered, my voice trembling slightly, but the anger was building, a hot wave rushing through me.

Without a word, he reached past me and pushed the button for the top floor. The elevator gave a mechanical lurch, and the numbers on the display began to blink upwards once more.

What was that? What was happening? And what in God’s name was I supposed to do now?

We didn’t say another word for the rest of the ride.

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