Chapter 6: The Fire Below the Marble
The kiss had been brief, but its impact echoed long after Leo left Mira's apartment.
It wasn't the kind of kiss born from impulse. It was a declaration, unspoken but undeniable.
And that made it dangerous.
The next morning, Mira walked into SkySpire Tower with her head held high, even as the whispers clung to her like smoke. She wore a navy sheath dress with a high collar and sleeves to the wrist—a professional armor that said: I am not what you think I am.
Still, eyes followed her.
Some out of curiosity. Some out of malice.
And a few—like Gloria Renwick's—out of open disdain.
Gloria, the youngest board member at 32 and heiress to a textile fortune, had always treated Mira with polite indifference. Today, her smile was icy and deliberate.
"Miss Verma," she said smoothly as she entered the elevator Mira was already in. "Busy week for you."
"Always," Mira replied.
Gloria arched an eyebrow. "You've been quite close with Leo lately. Must be... intense, assisting someone so magnetic."
Mira didn't flinch. "I do my job well. That's all."
"Of course," Gloria said, a faint laugh curling at the edge of her voice. "Just remember—men like Leo don't settle for long. And this world... it has a way of chewing up girls who don't come from it."
The elevator dinged. Mira stepped out, spine straight. "Then it's a good thing I don't intend to be chewed up."
---
Inside Leo's office, the mood shifted.
He looked up the moment she entered, reading her face like a strategist reads a battlefield.
"They're getting bold," he murmured.
"They think I'm a liability," she replied.
He stood, walking around the desk. "Then it's time I remind them who's making the rules."
Before she could respond, his assistant buzzed in.
"Sir, your father is here. Unannounced."
Mira tensed. Leo's jaw locked.
"Send him in."
Malcolm Cavendish entered like he owned the oxygen in the room. Tall, broad, graying temples framing a face carved by decades of empire building.
"Mira," he said curtly. "Still here, I see."
"I work here," she replied.
"For now," he said under his breath, then turned to Leo.
"Son. We need to talk."
Leo motioned Mira to stay. Malcolm noted it, eyes narrowing.
"I don't have secrets from my team," Leo said.
"Then you're more reckless than I thought." Malcolm tossed a tabloid on the desk. Cavendish's Commoner?
"You think a kiss derails a billion-dollar empire?" Leo said coolly.
"No," Malcolm said. "But perception does. We didn't build Cavendish Global so it could be front-page gossip. And we certainly didn't groom you to fall for... an employee."
Mira remained silent, eyes forward.
"I won't let this company—this family—be dragged down because you're bored of society girls," Malcolm hissed.
"I'm not bored," Leo replied. "I'm done pretending I care what rooms she was born in."
"She doesn't belong here."
"She belongs with me," Leo said sharply. "Whether you like it or not."
The silence was thunderous.
Malcolm scoffed. "This is how you want to lead? Let your assistant walk into boardrooms with you? Face the press? Be the Cavendish woman?"
"I want her beside me, yes."
Malcolm turned to Mira then, expression flat.
"You may have caught his attention, but that doesn't make you royalty. You're a phase. And when he's done, you'll wish you stayed in your lane."
He left without another word.
---
Mira sat down slowly, her pulse hammering. Leo crouched beside her chair.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"You shouldn't be," she whispered. "But... he's right about one thing."
Leo frowned. "What?"
"I wasn't raised for this. I don't know how to move through this world without setting myself on fire."
Leo took her hand. "Then let's burn the old rules down. Together."
She looked at him. "I need to earn this. Not just with you—but with myself."
"You already have."
"No. Not yet. But I will."
---
That night, Mira made a decision.
She emailed HR and formally requested to be transferred out of Leo's direct reporting line, citing a potential conflict of interest.
Leo called her instantly.
"You think putting distance between us makes things easier?" he asked.
"No," she said. "But it makes it cleaner. Let me rise on my own merit. Or it'll always look like I used you."
There was silence on the other end.
Then finally: "You're infuriating."
"And you're impossible."
"I still want you."
"I still want you too."
---
The transition was swift. Mira was moved to Strategic Operations, reporting directly to the COO. Her projects increased in scale—and visibility. Within two weeks, she was leading a corporate social responsibility initiative to expand SkySpire's educational outreach into underserved districts.
Her days were longer. Her name was now on internal reports sent to the board. Her email signature no longer listed her as 'Assistant to the CEO.'
She was proving herself.
And yet, at night, she'd find herself checking her phone.
A "How's your day?" from Leo.
A voice note of him humming Sinatra off-key.
A photo of a book he thought she'd like, next to his whiskey glass.
They hadn't kissed again. Hadn't met alone. But the thread between them stretched tighter with every passing day.
---
Three weeks later, the gala invitation arrived.
The Winter Bridge Foundation Ball—a who's-who of New York's elite.
Mira wasn't expecting it. Yet her new position put her on the guest list as a representative of SkySpire's outreach division.
She stared at the RSVP for a long time.
She knew Leo would be there.
She also knew Gloria would be watching.
She showed up in a floor-length emerald gown borrowed from a boutique that supported first-gen professionals. Her hair swept back. Her heels high. Her poise, practiced.
As she entered the marble hall, heads turned.
Leo, across the room in classic black tie, looked up—and everything paused.
He walked over slowly, every inch the heir. Yet when he reached her, his smile was private, sacred.
"You came," he said.
"You invited me," she replied.
"No," he said, offering his arm. "I hoped you would."
They danced once. Just once. But the sight of them together sent a ripple through the room.
Afterward, Mira stepped out for air.
And found herself face-to-face with Gloria on the balcony.
"You clean up nicely," Gloria said.
"Thanks," Mira said flatly.
"You know this won't last, right?"
Mira turned to her. "Why? Because I didn't grow up learning which fork to use first?"
"Because you're a distraction. Leo has a company to run. A legacy to uphold. Not play house with a charity-case Cinderella."
Mira smiled. "Funny. I don't remember asking for a prince."
Gloria stepped closer. "He'll break you. They all do. And when he does... no one here will catch you."
Mira's voice didn't shake. "Then I'll catch myself."
---
That night, Leo drove her home in silence.
At the curb, he parked and turned to her.
"You were brilliant."
"You say that like I wasn't supposed to be."
"No," he said. "I say it because I'm proud. And maybe because part of me wanted to throw you over my shoulder and tell the whole ballroom to shut up."
She laughed, tired. "We don't live in a fairytale."
"Maybe not," he said. "But you're still my favorite story."
She leaned in then. Not because of the fantasy—but because of the fight. Because they weren't supposed to work. Because everything said no, and they kept choosing yes.
Their kiss this time wasn't hesitant.
It was inevitable.