Episode 7 - Boundaries
The sound of her heels echoed against the marble floors as Jasmine walked into Phoenix Corp the next morning. Her badge blinked green, granting her access, but her heart wasn't as easily convinced.
After yesterday's almost-intimate moment with Callum, sleep had been a distant dream. Her mind had spun with questions, memories, and the ghost of emotions she thought were long buried.
He hadn't touched her. But his eyes had. That gaze—intense, unreadable, and full of something unspoken—had shaken her to the core.
"Morning, Ms. Hart." Max, Callum's right-hand man, greeted her near the elevator.
She forced a smile. "Morning, Max."
He pressed the elevator button and glanced at her sideways. "Rough night?"
"Do I look like I had one?"
"No. But you sound like someone who's carrying a lot."
Jasmine looked away, choosing silence. She didn't need the pity—or the truth.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped in. The moment Max exited on his floor, she exhaled, finally alone with her thoughts.
But not for long.
When the doors slid open again, she was greeted by the man himself—Callum Reed, in all his cold, commanding presence. He stepped in without a word, standing beside her, the air crackling with tension.
"Ms. Hart," he said, his voice low.
"Mr. Reed," she replied, keeping her eyes forward.
They stood in silence for a few floors until he spoke again.
"Dinner."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Tonight. Seven. I'll send the address."
"I have plans."
"No, you don't."
She turned to him then, her eyes flaring. "You don't get to decide that anymore."
Callum looked at her, his expression unreadable. "I don't recall you ever letting me."
The doors opened, and he walked out, leaving her breathless and furious.
---
Jasmine tried to focus on work, but her concentration was splintered. Reports blurred. Emails piled. Her coffee turned cold. And her phone lit up at exactly noon with a message:
"Restaurant Meraki. Private dining. 7 PM. - C"
She stared at it for a long time, torn between pride and curiosity.
---
By 6:55, Jasmine stood outside Meraki, dressed in a simple black dress and heels that gave her confidence she didn't feel. She told herself it wasn't a date. It wasn't even personal. This was business. Maybe he had something important to say. Maybe she'd finally get the answers she'd deserved five years ago.
The hostess led her to a private room, and there he was—already seated, already watching her.
"On time," he said, standing to pull her chair.
She ignored the gesture and sat on her own. "What do you want, Callum?"
He poured her water. "To talk."
"About what? The weather? Or why you ghosted me?"
His jaw tensed. "I didn't ghost you."
"Oh, I must've imagined your disappearance then," she snapped.
Callum leaned back, his fingers steepled. "I was sent away."
"What?"
He nodded slowly. "Someone made sure I left—and didn't come back."
Jasmine laughed bitterly. "How convenient."
"I'm not here to make excuses, Jasmine. But you need to know... I didn't leave by choice. I tried to come back. By the time I did, you were gone."
She looked away, her throat tight.
"Why now?" she asked. "Why hire me?"
"Because I never stopped looking."
Her heart skipped. Her eyes met his—and for a moment, everything faded.
But then she remembered the pain. The years. The betrayal.
"Too little, too late," she whispered.
He nodded. "Maybe. But I had to try."
They ate in silence after that, neither knowing what to say.
When dessert came, Jasmine stood.
"This changes nothing," she said quietly.
Callum didn't stop her.
But as she walked out of the restaurant, her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number:
You shouldn't be dining with him. He's not who you think he is.
She froze, her heart pounding.
Who the hell was watching her?