Chapter 3 Midnight Kisses in the Corner Office

"Get the checkout done," I'd told Bernard, pushing him toward the front desk. "I need coffee after what you did to me this morning." Now, curled in one of the hotel's plush coffee corner chairs, I scrolled through my phone while Bernard handled the checkout. My body still ached pleasantly from our "morning meeting," though I'd never admit that to him.

"Shit, we're trending," I muttered into my coffee cup, scanning the headlines flooding my feed. Every news outlet was pushing the same narrative: "Silicon Valley's Power Couple Reunites", "From Protégé to Partner: The Bernard-Diana Love Story", "Tech's Royal Wedding: Industry Giants Merge More Than Companies".

"...that's not just business 🔥"

My coffee nearly spilled as I read CoffeeAndCode415's comment. The memory of Bernard's intense stare during the press conference hit me like a physical touch. My free hand unconsciously went to my neck, then quickly dropped when I saw SiliconValleyBabe's comment about the marks there. Great, apparently my sex life was now Silicon Valley's favorite gossip.

"Finally! Been rooting for them since the Phoenix days!"

"Oh, fuck off," I muttered at TechieInPrada's comment, loud enough to make the woman at the next table glance over. What were we, some reality TV show for their entertainment?

I kept scrolling, my jaw clenching tighter with each comment. WallStWatchdog calling it "another corporate romance" - like they had any idea what was really happening. BayAreaBrain going on about stock prices - at least someone was focusing on business. Then I froze. StartupSherlock had posted a detailed funding analysis, tracing money trails straight back to Bernard. My throat went dry. How the hell had they figured that out?

"Billionaire chess while we can't make rent!" RamenCoder's complaint made me want to throw my phone. The next comment was worse - some asshole called TechTruthBomb whining about healthcare costs. I had to resist the urge to reply, to explain how many jobs we'd created, how many families we supported. But Bernard's voice echoed in my head: never defend, never explain.

My hand was already moving before my brain could catch up. I needed to take control of this narrative before it spiraled further. My fingers flew across the screen:

"Yes, Bernard Jones and I have a complicated history. Yes, he's ruthless, ambitious, and sometimes infuriating. But he's also the only person who's never tried to make me smaller. Who pushes me to be more ruthless, more ambitious, more myself than I ever dared. Two sharks circling each other? Maybe. But at least we're swimming in the same waters now."

The send button felt like pulling a trigger. I took another long sip of coffee, trying to calm my racing heart while watching Bernard at the desk. Something was off about that clerk - his movements too precise, too familiar.

My phone lit up with Bernard's response. Just seeing his name made my chest tight:

"You've always underestimated yourself. Five years ago, you were brilliant but cautious. Now? You're brilliant and dangerous. That's what brought me back. Not to tame you - to match you."

"Bastard," I whispered, but couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. The responses were instant:

"OMG THEY'RE OFFICIAL! 😭❤️"

"The power couple Silicon Valley deserves!"

"Bernard Jones, you smooth operator 🔥"

I clicked my phone off, my fingers finding that spot on my neck where Bernard had marked me. Five years ago, I'd discovered his recordings - detailed analysis of how I responded to his control, his demands, his touch. Notes on exactly what made me yield, what made me fight back, what made me his.

And here I was again, wearing his marks, playing his game. But something felt different this time. That look in his eyes during the press conference... it wasn't just calculation or control. There was something deeper, something almost...vulnerable.

Looking up, I caught Bernard checking if I was watching his conversation. I pretended to focus on my phone, but every instinct was screaming. The clerk's mannerisms, Bernard's tension - something was very wrong.

"Something's off about that clerk," Mike murmured beside me, pretending to work on his tablet.

"You noticed too?" I kept my voice low, hiding my words behind my coffee cup. "The way they're talking..."

"Like they know each other." Mike shifted slightly, angling his tablet to better watch the desk. "Five years ago, you would've run from this. From him."

"Five years ago, I ran because I discovered he was studying me." The coffee was bitter on my tongue. "Maybe it's time I started studying him back."

"The recordings still exist somewhere, you know." Mike's voice had that careful tone he used when he thought I was about to do something reckless. "Those notes about... everything between you two."

"Let them exist." The smile that spread across my face felt dangerous. "Let him keep his secrets for now. I've got time to uncover them all."

Mike's answering grin was razor-sharp. "Now that's the Diana Miller I know."

My phone buzzed again with fresh reactions:

"Anyone else catch that tension at the press conference? The way he kept his hand on her back... 🔥"

"Helios stock up 15% since the merger announcement. Love IS profitable 💅"

"Rich getting richer while pretending it's a love story. Classic."

"Remember when she called him a manipulative bastard in Forbes? Money heals all wounds 🙄"

"This merger's been planned for months. The 'romance' is just PR spin."

"She built a $10B company - who cares who she's sleeping with?"

"God, they're exhausting." I switched off notifications, focusing instead on Bernard's reflection in the lobby's glass. His jaw had that tight set it got when someone was pushing back against him - a tell I'd learned to read years ago.

"Five years leading my own company taught me something," I kept my eyes fixed on his reflection. "Everyone has patterns. Even Bernard Jones."

"And what's his pattern telling you now?"

"That he's not in control of this conversation." I watched the clerk lean forward, saying something that made Bernard's shoulders tighten further. "And Bernard Jones is always in control."

"Unless he's with you," Mike pointed out.

Images from last night flashed through my mind - Bernard surrendering under my touch, letting me take what I wanted. "That's different."

"Is it?" Mike's voice was careful. "Or is it just another trap?"

More comments flooded in:

"Remember when she vanished five years ago? There's definitely a story there."

"Track her funding - all roads lead back to him."

"Sources say he's been watching her company for years. Long game."

"This isn't a merger, it's Stockholm syndrome."

"Everyone thinks they know what's happening," I muttered, watching Bernard check his watch - another tell. He was running out of patience.

"Don't they?" Mike asked softly. "The funding trails..."

"No." My voice was steady despite the adrenaline humming through my veins. "Five years ago, I ran because he was documenting everything about me. Now?" I smiled as Bernard finally ended his conversation with the clerk. "Now I know better. You can't control someone by studying them. You can only learn their moves."

"So what's our next move?" Mike asked as Bernard started walking toward us.

I stood, smoothing my skirt with deliberate care. "Now? We watch. We wait. And most importantly..." I met Bernard's eyes across the lobby, letting him see my knowing smile. "We make him wonder exactly how much we've figured out."

"Christ." Mike's laugh was soft. "Five years really did change you."

"No." I kept my eyes locked with Bernard's as he approached, remembering every lesson he'd taught me about power. "It just taught me how to play the game better."