Richard Bradley

As the clock ticked past midnight, the office was eerily quiet, save for the hum of computers and the distant sound of the city that never slept. I was buried in paperwork, eyes straining under the harsh fluorescent lights, when I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and my heart skipped a beat. There, standing by the window, was the CEO. He was the picture of calm, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape below. The moonlight cast a silver halo around him, highlighting the sharp lines of his tailored suit. I couldn't tear my eyes away as he turned, adjusting his tie with a slow, deliberate motion. My pulse quickened, the sound of my heartbeat loud in the stillness. He glanced in my direction, and for a moment, our eyes met. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me feel both exposed and electrified. In that instant, I realized I was holding my breath. I quickly looked down, pretending to be engrossed in my work, but the image of him adjusting his