The Heart System Chapter 511

A faint chime echoed in the depths of my mind from the system, a gentle digital throb signaling my solid pile of SC earned from the On a Roll streak. A prompt flickered up, questioning whether I'd cash them out immediately or gamble for more. Truth be told, I aimed to gather extra Special Coins prior to exchanging. Greater risks promised bigger payoffs, and settling for mediocre rewards didn't appeal today.

I reclined in my office chair, leather groaning beneath me as my eyes fixed on the ceiling. I'd glanced over the Daily and Normal Quest lists, yet none seemed worthwhile. Tackling K's enigmatic nonsense or hunting Eleanor's lazy sibling? No thanks. Today called for easing off and simply relaxing.

"Evan."

Nala's voice floated from her private office. Her door stood ajar, a thin beam of warm light leaking into the hall. "Could you come here a moment?"

"Sure," I replied, shoving away from my desk.

I stepped inside and shut the door with a quiet, firm click. Nala stood beside her massive mahogany desk, far from her typical poised CEO demeanor. Her eyes met mine briefly, then flicked to the ceiling fan and dropped to the Persian rug's design. Tension gripped her clearly, fingers drumming an anxious beat on her thigh.

She approached me, releasing a deep sigh that slumped her shoulders. I remained still, arms crossed over my chest, anticipating her words. If Nala acted this nervous, the matter weighed heavy.

"Will you help me inspect the room?" she requested softly. "I must confirm no additional hidden cameras lurk."

"Nala, security already cleared the whole floor—"

"I know!" she interrupted, eyes blazing with irritation and real dread. "But I distrust even my security team now, Evan. This nagging suspicion won't fade. Just... please?"

I held her gaze a moment, spotting the fragility beneath her executive mask. My expression eased into a gentle smile. "Of course. If it eases your mind, count me in. We'll tear this office apart if needed."

"Great." Relief filled her next exhale. "I'll handle the left behind the desk. You cover everything else."

A brief, disbelieving laugh escaped me as I waved at the vast office—lounge, bookshelves, towering windows. "Hold on, you're claiming the tiniest spot? Hardly equitable."

"That's 'cause I'm the boss, and my word rules," she retorted, her signature spark reigniting. "Start searching, Mr. Marlowe."

"Wow. Boss of the century right here."

We dove into the search. I began at the bookshelf, yanking thick law tomes and peering into crevices behind the panels. Silence reigned, broken only by paper whispers and books thumping back into place. Periodically, I'd peek her way. She crouched behind the desk, probing wire covers and drawer undersides.

The room's atmosphere thickened, shifting from unease to a denser charge. Nala's sleek pencil skirt ended just above her knees, and stretching to examine a wall painting's frame pulled the material higher on her thighs.

I shifted to the lounge, dropping to my knees to scan beneath the coffee table. My vantage offered a flawless sight of her on tiptoes, probing the crown molding. No pretense of looking away; I lingered, eyes tracing her sleek leg lines and the silk skirt clinging to her hips.

"Found anything?" she called, still facing away.

"Only a stunning vista," I murmured.

She spun, busting me in the act. Her skirt stayed put at first, cheeks flushing a delicate rose. "Evan! Concentrate. This matters."

"I am concentrating," I replied, rising and approaching her.

Brushing past to inspect the curtain rods, I seized the chance. Leaning close, I landed a solid, teasing slap on her rear. The sharp sound rang through the hushed office.

Nala startled with a quick gasp. She whirled to confront me, eyes widened in mock fury that crumbled into a shy smile. "What if someone spots us, idiot? Door's shut, but..."

"Didn't you say you doubt the security team?" I bantered, invading her space. "Perhaps I'm probing for 'tactile' irregularities."

"You're such a... ugh," she breathed, her palm pressing my chest momentarily before nudging me toward the windows. "Resume the hunt. Hands off, Mr. Marlowe, or I'll lodge an official grievance."

"I anticipate the proceedings," I smirked.

Twenty more minutes passed in thorough scrutiny of every corner. I scaled a chair to remove a vent panel as Nala slid under the sofa-side table. Another peek revealed her skirt hiked up while she tapped floorboards; I merely shook my head. My inner 'Villain' itched to prolong it, yet the 'Good Boy' points purchased kept me focused.

At last, we converged rug-center, breaths quickened from exertion. The office lay somewhat rumpled—books askew, cushions displaced—but clear of threats.

"Nothing," Nala declared, brushing hair from her brow. "No wires, lenses, or bugs anywhere."

"Told you," I said, nearing to clasp her shoulder supportively. "Your team's thorough, Nala. You're secure here. No watchers."

"Yeah..." She melted against my hand briefly, stress evaporating. "I needed your reassurance. Thanks, Evan."

"Anytime, Boss."

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