The Heart System

Chapter 511: Chapter 511

The system chimed in the back of my mind, a subtle digital pulse that reminded me I was sitting on a decent stack of SC from the On a Roll streak. It flashed a prompt, asking if I wanted to cash them in now or keep rolling the dice. Honestly? I wanted to rack up a few more Special Coins before hitting the exchange. The higher the risk, the higher the reward, and I wasn’t in the mood to settle for the low-tier loot today.

I leaned back in my office chair, the leather creaking under my weight as I stared at the ceiling. I’d skimmed through my Daily and Normal Quest logs, but nothing felt worth the effort. Dealing with K’s cryptic bullshit or tracking down Eleanor’s deadbeat brother? Nah. Not today. I’d rather take things slow for once and just breathe.

"Evan."

Nala’s voice drifted out from her private office. Her door was cracked open, a sliver of warm light spilling into the hallway. "Can you come here for a sec?"

"Sure," I called back, pushing off from my desk.

I walked in and closed the door behind me with a soft, solid click. Nala was standing by her large mahogany desk, but she didn’t look like the composed CEO she usually was. She looked up at me, then her gaze darted to the ceiling fan, then down to the pattern of the Persian rug. She was clearly on edge, her fingers tapping a restless rhythm against her thigh.

She walked toward me, letting out a heavy exhale that seemed to deflate her shoulders. I just stood there, folding my arms across my chest, waiting for whatever she had to say. If Nala was this jittery, it had to be important.

"Can you help me check the room?" she asked, her voice dropping. "I need to know if there are any more hidden cameras."

"Nala, the security team already swept the entire floor—"

"I know!" she cut in, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and genuine fear. "But I don’t even trust my own security team anymore, Evan. I can’t shake the feeling. Can you just... please?"

I looked at her for a heartbeat, seeing the vulnerability behind the boss-lady persona. I softened, offering her a small smile. "Sure, sure. If it’ll relieve you, I’ll help. We’ll flip this place upside down if we have to."

"Great." She exhaled again, this time with relief. "I’ll take the left side of the room, behind the desk. You take the rest."

I let out a short, incredulous chuckle, gesturing to the sprawling office space that included the lounge area, the bookshelves, and the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Wait, you’re taking the smallest search area? That’s not even fair."

"That’s because I’m the boss and whatever I say goes," she shot back, a hint of her usual fire returning to her voice. "Now get to work, Mr. Marlowe."

"Wow. Boss of the century over here."

We got to work. I started by the bookshelf, pulling out heavy law volumes and checking the gaps behind the wood. It was quiet, the only sound being the rustle of paper and the soft thud of books being replaced. Every few minutes, I’d glance over at her. She was bent over behind her desk, checking the wire casing and the underside of the drawers.

The tension in the room started to shift from paranoid to something a bit thicker. Nala was wearing a slim-fitting pencil skirt that hit just above her knees, and as she reached up to check the frame of a painting on the wall, the fabric rode up her thighs.

I moved toward the lounge area, kneeling down to check the underside of the coffee table. From my angle, I had a perfect view of her as she stood on her tiptoes to inspect the crown molding. I didn’t even try to hide it; I just stayed there, my gaze lingering on the smooth curve of her legs and the way the silk of her skirt hugged her hips.

"Find anything yet?" she asked, her back still to me.

"Just a very impressive view," I muttered.

She turned around, catching me red-handed. She didn’t pull her skirt down immediately, but her cheeks turned a soft, dusty pink. "Evan! Focus. This is serious."

"I am focusing," I said, standing up and walking toward her.

As I passed her to check the curtain rods, I didn’t miss the opportunity. I leaned in and delivered a firm, playful smack to her ass. The sound echoed in the quiet office.

Nala jumped, letting out a small, sharp gasp. She turned to face me, her eyes wide, trying to look angry but failing as a small, bashful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "What if someone sees, you idiot? The door is closed, but still..."

"You just said you don’t trust the security team," I teased, stepping into her personal space. "Maybe I’m just checking for ’tactile’ anomalies."

"You’re a... ugh," she whispered, her hand resting on my chest for a second before she pushed me back toward the windows. "Keep searching. And keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Marlowe, or I’ll have to file a formal complaint."

"I look forward to the hearing," I grinned.

We spent another twenty minutes meticulously checking every nook and cranny. I climbed onto a chair to unscrew a vent cover while Nala crawled under the side table near the sofa. I caught another glimpse of her under the table, her skirt bunched up as she poked at the floorboards, and I just shook my head. The ’Villain’ in me wanted to drag this out, but the ’Good Boy’ points I’d bought earlier were keeping me on task.

Eventually, we both stood in the center of the rug, breathing a bit harder from the physical effort. The office was slightly disheveled—books misaligned, cushions tossed aside—but it was clean.

"Nothing," Nala said, wiping a stray hair from her forehead. "Not a single wire, lens, or bug."

"Told you," I said, walking over and giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your team did their job, Nala. You’re safe in here. No one is watching."

"Yeah..." She leaned into my touch for a second, the tension finally leaving her frame. "I guess I just needed to hear it from you. Thanks, Evan."

"Anytime, Boss."

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