ANYA'S POV
I needed to breathe.
The air on the PM floor was saturated with the invisible, stinging needles of fifty people wishing for my death. I had spent hours staring at the Red Ledger until my vision blurred into a mess of digital static. Kenji hadn't moved from his office, his silhouette a stationary shadow through the frosted glass that felt like a cold hand around my throat.
I stood up, my legs trembling slightly. I made a move for the corridor—the only place where I could escape the "Glass Island" and the judgmental hum of the servers.
I didn't even make it to the elevators.
Three of them were waiting. Sarah, the Senior Analyst, and two others whose names I didn't know but whose sneers were identical. They moved with a synchronized, predatory grace, cornering me in the narrow hallway far from the main floor's cameras.
"Leaving so soon, North District?" Sarah stepped into my space, her expensive perfume cloying. "I thought you were the 'Senior' talent. Surely you aren't cracking already?"
"Move, Sarah," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Or what?" Sarah mocked, her eyes flashing with a murderous envy. She reached out, her sharp, manicured nails digging into the silk of my sleeve. "You're a glitch, Anya. A dirty, North District error code. Do you know what happens to glitches in this building? They get scrubbed."
She raised her hand, her palm flat as if she were about to shove me back into the cold stone wall, when a shadow eclipsed the hallway light.
"That's a very expensive dress to be ruining with such cheap behavior, ladies."
The voice was like gravel and smoke.
The women froze. I looked past Sarah's shoulder and felt my heart do a violent roll.
A man was leaning against the opposite wall, a battered leather jacket draped over his shoulders and a smirk that looked like a jagged wound. He was tall, leaner than Kenji, his dark hair messy. He didn't look like he belonged in a skyscraper; he looked like he had just climbed out of a street fight.
"Who the hell are you?" Sarah snapped, recovering her bite. "This is a restricted floor. I'm calling security—"
"Go ahead. Tell them Ren Tanaka is back in the building," the man drawled, his smirk widening as he pushed off the wall. "I'd love to see how fast they drop their guns when they realize who's paying their medical insurance."
The name hit the hallway like a physical shockwave. Sarah's hand froze mid-air, her face draining of color until she looked like a ghost. The two analysts behind her actually stumbled back, their eyes wide with a sudden, paralyzing terror.
"Mr. Tanaka... we didn't... we weren't informed," Sarah stammered.
"I don't make appointments," Ren said, his voice dropping an octave. He ignored me entirely, focused on breaking the women who had cornered me. "Now, I suggest you go back to your cubicles and pray I don't tell my brother you were wasting company time on such... primitive bullying. Now, vanish."
They didn't wait for a second command. They turned and fled, the frantic clack-clack-clack of their heels echoing down the marble hallway.
I leaned against the wall, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Ren turned to me then, his grey eyes bored, almost indifferent. "You okay, sweetheart? You look like you're about to faint."
"I'm fine," I whispered. "Thank you."
He shrugged, already turning to walk away. "Stay out of the hallways. The sharks around here are hungry today."
He hadn't even taken two steps when the air in the hallway turned to ice.
"Ren."
The name was a low, vibrating growl that seemed to shake the building's foundations.
Kenji was standing at the end of the hallway. He looked like a god of vengeance. His coat was off, his white shirt strained against his shoulders, and his obsidian eyes were locked onto the stranger.
"Kenji," Ren grinned, his boredom vanishing instantly. "I didn't think you'd be out of your cage so early."
Kenji didn't answer. He moved with a speed that shouldn't have been human. In a heartbeat, he was there. But he didn't attack Ren.
He snatched me.
Kenji's hand slammed into my waist, pulling me backward with a violent, possessive force until my back hit his chest. His grip was bone-deep, his fingers digging into my hip as if he were trying to fuse our bodies together.
This wasn't protection. This was ownership. And the worst part? My body didn't know the difference anymore.
"Stay. Away. From. Her," Kenji hissed, his voice a lethal whisper.
Ren's eyebrows shot up. He looked at Kenji's white-knuckled grip on my waist, then he looked at me. His grey eyes, previously so indifferent, suddenly lit up with a dark, hungry curiosity.
"So this is why the sensors are redlining," Ren murmured, his smirk returning—but this time, it was sharp and dangerous. "I thought she was just another secretary, Kenji. But if she's the one making you lose your cool... then she must be something very special indeed."
Ren leaned in closer, ignoring the killing intent radiating from his brother. "What's your name, little bird?"
"Don't speak to her," Kenji growled.
"Careful, Kenji," Ren said softly, his eyes locking onto mine with a new, predatory interest. "Grip her any tighter… and I might start wondering what she feels like when she breaks."
Kenji didn't wait for another word. He hauled me back toward his office, his grip so tight it left ghosts of his fingers on my skin. He threw open the doors and shoved me inside, the glass sealing with a heavy, electronic thud that echoed like a gavel.
He didn't go to his desk. He shoved me back against the floating obsidian slab, pinning me down. He didn't use the sensors this time. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the cool stone above my head.
"You let him look at you," Kenji breathed. He leaned in until his nose brushed mine, his breath hot against my lips, but he didn't close the gap. He stayed just a hair's breadth away—a torture of proximity. His voice was a jagged edge of jealousy and rage. "You let him stand in your light."
"He saved me!" I gasped, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"I don't care," he growled. He drifted his head down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear but never touching my skin. He was inhaling me, marking my scent as his own. "No one touches you. No one looks at you. You are the only variable I will not share. Especially not with him."
He lowered his head further, his mouth hovering just over my pulse point, the heat of him radiating through me. His hand slid down from my wrist, his fingers tracing a slow, agonizing path toward the hem of my silk dress, stopping just at the edge of the fabric.
"You don't get to react to anyone but me," he murmured against my throat.
He leaned in closer, his dark eyes searching mine for any hint of rebellion, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a tether.
"Because if you do... I'll make sure you're the only thing left in this world that he can never reach."
Suddenly, the glass office wall behind him didn't just frost—it turned solid black, cutting us off from the world entirely.
"The doors are deadbolted, Anya," he rasped, his eyes locking onto mine. "And I've just turned off the cameras."
STATUS: CLAIMED.
HEART RATE: 198 BPM.