**Playing with Fire**
I cant believe I let it get this far.
Bloody hell, Thomas threw his head back, choking on laughter. You actually said it to her face? In front of everyone?
What choice did I have? James drummed his fingers on the table, restless. Im married. She wouldnt take the hintgot bolder every day. The whole departments been giving us looks.
Mate, youre too modest, Thomas teased. Most blokes wouldve taken the chance. Not you, thoughSaint James.
Weve got different ideas about loyalty, James shot back, though his eyes betrayed exhaustion. At first, I ignored itdidnt want to be rude. Didnt want to make a scene.
And thats where you went wrong, Thomas raised an eyebrow. Your silence gave her hope.
What does she even want from me? Plenty of single men around!
For women like her, a wedding ring isnt a barrierits a challenge, Thomas said dryly. Proof youre worth having.
Charlotte stormed into the office like an unexpected spring gale. She wasnt classically beautifulsharp features, a low, slightly husky voice. But when she smiled, the world seemed to shift. The HR manager later admitted shed been ready to reject Charlotteuntil that smile changed her mind.
At first, James genuinely liked her. Her energy and sharp wit were a breath of fresh air in the dull routine. He helped her settle in, shared advice. To him, it was just kindnessnothing more. A family man through and through, he saw her as a bright colleague, almost a younger sister.
Then the lines blurred. Her jokes turned suggestive, her touches lingered. James, an introvert, recoiled. His usual moral compass spun wildly. He avoided her, skipped lunches togetherbut retreat only spurred her on.
***
James was in his mid-thirties, a man who meticulously maintained order in his life. Tall, but slightly stooped, as if trying to take up less space. Dark hair, neatly trimmed, silver already threading his templesheredity, plus the weight of responsibility. Calm eyes, but beneath them lay a constant wearinessnot from work, but from the strain of holding himself together. He wore thin-rimmed glasses, which hed remove and rub nervously when stressed. His clothes were understatedplain shirts, tailored trousers. No flash, no fuss.
He hated noise, office gossip, flirtationit all felt like a foreign language. Silence, routine, focusthat was his world. Conflict terrified him. Hed rather retreat than face a confrontation.
Yet beneath it all stood an unshakable fortress: his family. Emma and the kids werent just part of his lifethey *were* his life. His loyalty wasnt performativeit was as natural as breathing.
Charlotte had fixated on him from day one. He was the only one immune to her charms. Seducing him wasnt just about attentionit was about proving her worth. If a man like *him*devoted, principledfell for her, then she mattered. And experience told her no perfect family man was truly happy.
Two weeks into the job, Charlotte gushed to her friend about James. Hes trapped in this picture-perfect life, she insisted. His wife doesnt understand him.
Youve never even met her, Emily argued. This isnt some tawdry novelits real life.
You dont get it, Charlotte snapped. I *know* were meant to be. He just needs to wake up.
***
The business trip to Manchester was torture. Who volunteered to join him? Charlotte. Professional by day, relentless by night. A knock at his hotel door.
My rooms freezing, she said, wrapped in a robe that left little to the imagination.
Jamess stomach dropped. Panic clawed at his throat. He pictured Emmas steady, trusting eyes.
WaitIll get you a blanket, he muttered, turning away.
She pouted but took it. Youve locked yourself in a cage, she said, leaving. Pity.
He leaned against the door, heart pounding. Relief. Pityfor her, for himself.
Back at the office, she backed offbriefly. Then asked for a lift home. He refused.
Do I repulse you? she challenged.
Youre brilliant, he said. But I love my wife. I have a family
So thats the only reason? Her eyes glittered dangerously.
No He faltered. She vanished. He knew hed messed up.
That night, Emma shook him awake, furious. What the hell is this?
On his phonea photo of Charlotte in lace, sent at midnight.
Its not what you think! He explained everything, raw with shame.
Emma exhaled. You daft sod, she muttered, equal parts anger and affection. I believe you. But if she does this again, Ill make a scene she wont forget.
The next day, James confronted Charlotte. She smirked, expecting surrender.
Youve crossed a line, he said.
Oh, relax, she purred, reaching for his face. She doesnt deserve you.
He recoiled. What are you implying?
Your perfect lifes a lie. Her voice dripped venom. Your sonhes nothing like you. *Nothing.*
James went cold. The last shred of sympathy vanished.
I can prove it, she crowed, slamming a paper on the desk. *Paternity test: 0% match.*
He looked up, fury ice-clear. Danny isnt mine by blood. But he *is* my son. His parentsEmmas sister and her husbanddied. Hes *ours* now. Happy?
Charlotte paled. I didnt know
Resign by tonight, he said softly. Or I go to the police. And if you ever come near my kids His quiet voice was more terrifying than any shout.
She quit that day. James came home early, hugging Danny and little Sophie tighter than usual.
That evening, he sat across from Emma. We need to tell him. Before someone else does.
She nodded, eyes wet. Im scared.
Me too. But well do it together.
A week later, after cake, James knelt before Danny. Remember how we say familys what matters most? Well Im not your birth dad. Your first mum and dad were Aunt Lucy and Uncle Mark. Theyre not here anymore. But Mummy and Iwe chose you. We love you more than anything.
Danny thought, then hugged them. Can I have more cake?
The weight lifted. In the quiet, ordinary momentcrumbs on the table, soft laughterthere was no room for Charlotte. No room for her games. Just family. Right where they belonged.
