The headlines broke before sunrise.
"REYES HOLDINGS LEAKS CONFIDENTIAL DATA—VELASCO TECH AT RISK."
Amara stared at the screen, her hands frozen, the words blurring together as her mind tried—and failed—to process what she was seeing.
"No…" she whispered.
This wasn't possible.
She would never—
Her thoughts fractured as her phone rang.
The name on the screen made her breath hitch.
Adrian.
Her heart jumped—and dropped all at once.
She answered immediately. "Adrian, I—"
"Tell me it wasn't you."
His voice cut through the line like a blade.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
It didn't sound like the man who had stood inches from her.
Didn't sound like the man who had looked at her like she mattered.
"I didn't do this," she said quickly. "You have to believe me."
Silence.
Heavy.
Stretching across the distance between them, pressing into her chest until it felt difficult to breathe.
"I trusted you," he said quietly.
The words landed harder than anger ever could.
Her chest tightened.
"And I trusted you," she shot back. "So don't do this."
"Don't do what?"
"Look at me like I'm the enemy."
A pause.
A shift.
"You are right now."
That was what broke her.
Not shouting.
Not accusations.
Just that quiet, simple sentence.
You are right now.
"Adrian—" Her voice faltered, catching on something raw and unfamiliar.
"I need proof, Amara."
Proof.
After everything.
After the nights.
After the moments they hadn't talked about but both remembered.
After the almosts.
After the trust they had just started to build.
Her grip tightened on the phone.
"You think I would sabotage you?" she asked, her voice shaking despite her best effort to control it.
"I think someone did," he replied. "And it came from your side."
Your side.
Not you.
But close enough to hurt.
Close enough to draw a line that hadn't existed before.
Amara closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself, forcing her voice to stay firm.
"I would never hurt you."
The words left her before she could stop them.
Not just professional.
Not just logical.
Personal.
Deep.
Real.
But Adrian didn't respond.
Didn't soften.
Didn't reassure.
The silence stretched again—longer this time.
He was weighing her.
Measuring her.
Deciding something she couldn't see.
And that silence—
That absence of trust—
That was the loudest thing between them.
"I need to find out who did this," he said finally, his tone controlled, distant. "Until then, we keep this professional."
Professional.
The word felt hollow now.
Like something that didn't quite fit anymore.
"Is that all I am to you?" she asked quietly.
Another pause.
This one longer.
"He said nothing."
But the silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was full of everything they were losing.
Everything they hadn't realized they could lose.
"Adrian…" she started again, softer this time.
But he cut her off.
"I'll call you when I have answers."
And just like that—
The line went dead.
Amara stood there, phone still pressed to her ear, as the silence swallowed everything whole.
The room felt colder.
Larger.
Lonelier.
And for the first time—
She wondered if what they had was already gone… before it even had the chance to begin.