Page 21 of Thirst Trap
The Tower at night always felt different. Quieter. Colder. Like the walls themselves held their breath until morning.
Most sane people had gone home hours ago. Maddison Parker wasn’t most people.
Barefoot, heels dangling from her fingers, she padded down the executive hallway like a cat. She didn’t knock when she reached Lucas’s office.
She never knocked.
The door swung open.
Lucas Creams looked up from his laptop. Blue light carved sharp lines across his face. His eyes froze when they landed on her. Bare legs. That smirk. Trouble.
“It’s late,” he said, voice flat but tight.
“You’re still working,” she countered, slipping inside like she owned the place. She set a small black box on his desk. “Triple shot espresso. Extra bitter. Like your soul.”
He blinked once. “Thank you.”
Not finished, she leaned past him, too close, and placed another offering on the credenza behind him. His favorite protein bar. Unwrapped. Folded neatly into a napkin with a badly drawn smiley face.
“You forget to eat when you’re stressed.”
Lucas’s hand flexed. He didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. Not without replaying her video in his head. Her voice breaking, her lips parted, the sound of her begging for him. His hands had trembled when he answered back. I was trembling. Lucas Creams never shook.
“You okay, boss?” she asked softly.
His jaw ticked. He finally met her eyes.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Her lips curved. “Only if you play back.”
Silence stretched thick between them. His pulse thundered. Hers too,he could hear it, swear he could. Then she bent down, brushed her lips across his cheek. Barely there. Enough to set him on fire. And whispered, “Goodnight, Lucas.”
And just like that, she was gone.
The door clicked shut.
Lucas sat frozen. Burning. Unraveling.
Power was supposed to be his currency. But she’d just stolen every dollar.
***
Later, neon bar lights painted Maddison’s grin as she sipped her cocktail across from Remy.
“Okay. Spill,” Remy demanded. “You’re glowing like you just got laid, promoted, and inherited a yacht in Monaco.”
Maddison laughed. “Didn’t get laid. Yet. But I may or may not have kissed my boss.”
Remy’s straw clattered onto the table. “No. Not him. The Lucas Creams? Stoneface McSilence? Billionaire Batboy?”
“The very one.” Maddison leaned in, smug. “I walked in with coffee, hacked his brain, kissed his cheek. Man nearly combusted.”
“You kissed him? Maddison…” Remy’s voice dropped, urgent. “You do realize who you’re playing with, right? I work in insurance, babe. I see files on families like his. Their ‘accidents,’ their ‘liabilities.’ The Creams name shows up more than it should. Fires. Car crashes. People don’t stay untouched.”
Maddison popped a fry into her mouth, unimpressed. “So what? You think Lucas is gonna off me with a poisoned protein bar? Please. The guy practically short circuits if I smirk too hard.”
“I’m serious.” Remy leaned closer, eyes sharp. “That family doesn’t sweep messes under rugs. They bury them. If you get in too deep, you’re not just risking your job. You’re risking your life.”
