Lines Crossed

Elliot

The moment I stepped out of that conference room, my blood was boiling hotter than it had in years. I couldn’t get the image of Manuel’s smug face out of my head, nor the way his eyes lingered on Susan like she was some kind of unfinished masterpiece he couldn’t wait to touch up.

I stormed into my office, slamming the door harder than necessary. My chest tightened with every breath, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely out of control. Susan...my Susan...had history with this guy. And not just any history, but the kind that left marks, invisible yet undeniable.

I didn’t give a damn about business deals or brand endorsements anymore. Manuel Fernandez had crossed a line, and I wasn’t about to sit back and watch him worm his way into Susan’s life.

I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my messages until I found Adrian’s name. If anyone could talk some sense into me...or at least help me plot revenge...it was him.

Need a drink. Now.

His response was immediate.

Be there in 20.

**

By the time Adrian walked into my office, I was already halfway through a bottle of bourbon. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word, just grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink.

“What’s got you acting like a psychopath?” he asked, settling into the chair across from me.

I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Susan and Manuel Fernandez.”

Adrian blinked. “Wait, the Manuel Fernandez? The artist?”

I nodded, taking another long sip.

“What about him?”

“He’s got history with Susan. She saved his ass from jumping off a building years ago, and now he’s acting like he owns a piece of her.”

Adrian whistled low. “Damn. That’s… intense.”

“Yeah, and it gets better.” I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my desk. “He agreed to work with the company, but only if he could deal directly with Susan. No one else.”

Adrian let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Man, you’ve got competition.”

I glared at him. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he said, though the amused glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “But come on, Elliot. Susan loves you. You really think some tortured artist is gonna change that?”

I wanted to believe him. Hell, I needed to believe him. But the doubt had already taken root, and no amount of reassurance could rip it out.

“I don’t know, man,” I muttered. “He’s got this… connection with her. And I can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to steal her away.”

Adrian took a sip of his drink, his expression thoughtful. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

I didn’t have an answer. All I knew was that I wasn’t about to let Susan slip through my fingers...not without a fight.

**

The next day, I made it a point to ‘coincidentally’ run into Susan and Manuel during one of their meetings. I walked into the room like I owned it...because, technically, I did...and flashed my most charming, business-like smile.

“Just checking in,” I said casually, though my eyes were locked on Manuel. “How’s everything going?”

Manuel didn’t miss a beat. “Perfectly. Susan’s been an incredible help.”

Susan shot me a warning glance, silently begging me not to make a scene. But I couldn’t help the possessive edge in my voice when I responded.

“She tends to have that effect.”

Manuel’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened, just enough for me to notice. “I’m sure she does.”

I clenched my jaw, but forced a tight smile. “Well, carry on. I’ll be in my office if you need anything, Susan.”

She gave me a look that screamed stop being an idiot, but I just smirked and walked out, satisfied that I’d at least staked my claim.

But Manuel wasn’t backing down.

Over the next few days, he found every excuse to keep Susan late at the office, to schedule meetings that dragged on longer than necessary. And Susan...God bless her...was oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t just here for business.

By the end of the week, I’d had enough.

I showed up at her apartment unannounced, my fists clenched at my sides as I knocked on her door. When she opened it, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Elliot? What are you doing here?”

I didn’t wait for an invitation. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me with a definitive thud.

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice low and steady.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her brow furrowing. “About what?”

“About Manuel.”

Her expression tightened. “Elliot, not this again...”

“Yes, this again,” I snapped, cutting her off. “You don’t see it, but I do. He’s not just here for some fucking brand deal, Susan. He wants you.”

She stared at me, her jaw clenched. “And what do you expect me to do about that? Quit my job? Walk away from everything I’ve worked for because you’re jealous?”

“I expect you to see what’s happening,” I hissed, stepping closer. “I expect you to realize that he’s using whatever history you have to get between us.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not some prize to be fought over, Elliot.”

“Then stop acting like you don’t care!” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. “Because I sure as hell do.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with tension. For a moment, neither of us moved, neither of us spoke. And then, in a sudden, explosive moment, I closed the distance between us, capturing her lips with mine in a kiss that was equal parts anger and desperation.

She didn’t resist. She kissed me back with the same fire, the same frustration, her hands tangling in my hair as we stumbled backward, crashing into the nearest wall.

“I don’t want him,” she gasped against my lips. “I want you.”

Those words were all I needed.

I lifted her into my arms, carrying her to the bedroom with a singular purpose. Whatever Manuel thought he had with Susan, I was going to erase it, overwrite it with something so raw, so intense, that there would be no room for doubt.

And when we finally collapsed into the sheets, breathless and spent, I knew one thing for certain:

Manuel Fernandez could try all he wanted, but Susan was mine.