The HÉRA Studios were a controlled kind of chaos-flashing lights, racks of designer clothes, stylists darting from model to model, and makeup artists muttering prayers as they raced the clock.
Miles hated being here. This wasn't her battlefield. There were no legal clauses or courtroom silences-only sequins and glitter.
And Arianna? Of course, she thrived in it.
She stood in front of the camera, draped in a silky white gown that made her glow under the lights. Her confidence was magnetic, movements fluid, expression flawless. The photographer barked directions she didn't even need-Arianna knew her angles.
"Still reading that contract, boss lady?" Arianna said, not even turning as Miles approached the monitor beside the creative director.
Miles, as usual, was dressed in a perfectly tailored black blazer, clipboard in hand and an unreadable expression on her face. "I read it before you even arrived."
"I bet you highlight in multiple colors too."
"I prefer red pen."
"Of course you do."
The creative director clapped his hands. "Alright, Arianna-let's bring in the co-star for the couple's shoot!"
Miles blinked. "Couple's shoot?"
Arianna turned to her, eyes sparkling. "Didn't Jazz tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"You're in the campaign."
Miles stared. "Absolutely not."
"It's already in the deal. A 'surprise' final shot for the HÉRA 'Power & Passion' collection. They want to play on your CEO image-dominance meets desire or something dramatic like that." Arianna smirked. "You'd look great in black."
"I am in black."
"Exactly."
Before she could protest, an assistant was handing Miles a blazer change and pushing her toward hair and makeup. Jazz, somewhere backstage, was definitely laughing.
⸻
Ten minutes later, Miles stood beside Arianna in front of the camera. The lights were too hot, the music too loud, and the space between them-nonexistent.
The concept? Eye contact. Tension. Power.
"Closer," the photographer said. "Miles, look at her like she's your only weakness. Arianna-like you're in complete control."
They were already inches apart.
"I didn't agree to this," Miles muttered under her breath.
"You agreed to everything," Arianna whispered back, lips barely moving. "Read the fine print, remember?"
Miles exhaled through her nose. "This is unprofessional."
"Say that after the photo that breaks the internet."
Flash.
Another shot. Arianna leaned in, fingertips brushing Miles' chest. Miles didn't flinch-but her pulse betrayed her.
"You're blushing," Arianna teased.
"I'm angry."
"Same thing, in this lighting."
Flash. Flash.
"Okay, that's a wrap!" the photographer yelled.
They stepped back. The air between them buzzed with something unspoken.
"I'll have legal send you the final review of this campaign by tonight," Miles said, slipping the blazer off, back to being untouchable.
Arianna watched her go, tilting her head. "You keep using contracts as shields, Miles. One day, someone's going to find the loophole."
The photo hit the internet before either of them had a chance to breathe.
One click. One caption.
"Power meets Temptation: Arianna Quinn Garcia & Miles Dela Cruz set the standard in HÉRA's new campaign."
By the time the sun rose, it had over two million likes.
On Twitter?
#MilesRanna was trending.
On Instagram?
Fan edits. Slow-motion reels. Zoom-ins of their eye contact.
On TikTok?
The audio of Miles saying, "I didn't agree to this," followed by Arianna's "You agreed to everything," was already a sound under hundreds of edits.
Jazz, of course, was the first to send the screenshot.
-COF (JCMG)-
Jazz: You're famous now. Enjoy your celebrity era, boss.
Jazz: Also... why is this hotter than it should be??
Charlie added fuel.
Charlie: Not to be dramatic but I ship you two so hard it hurts.
Charlie: I mean... look at your hands. LOOK AT YOUR HANDS.
Miles turned her phone face down and stared at her office ceiling.
This was a nightmare.
Arianna, on the other hand, sipped her morning matcha on her apartment balcony, legs crossed, completely unfazed. She scrolled through the comments, smirking.
"Is it legal to have this much chemistry?"
"Miles looking like she wants to destroy the world for her."
"This is enemies to lovers energy and I NEED IT."
Malia walked in, coffee in hand. "You broke the internet again. You proud of yourself?"
"I didn't try to," Arianna said innocently.
"You practically climbed her soul through the camera," Malia muttered. "She's probably having a corporate meltdown."
"I hope so," Arianna grinned. "It was fun."
⸻
Meanwhile, at Dela Cruz & Associates, Miles was already in a boardroom surrounded by screens showing the campaign. Her junior staff were whispering behind her back. Even the senior partners had noticed.
"I don't want this to distract from the actual contract," she snapped.
"It's... positive press," someone dared to say.
Miles clenched her jaw. "Next time, we sign creative boundaries. Clear ones."
Still, later that night, alone in her penthouse, she couldn't stop herself from opening Instagram.
She stared at the photo. At her hand, curled near Arianna's waist. At Arianna's gaze-confident, teasing, almost like she knew she was winning a game Miles didn't want to play.
Then came the text.
-CONVO OF MILES AND ARIANNA-
Arianna: You looked good.
Arianna: Even with the tension trying to murder me through the lens.
Miles: You manipulated the shot.
Miles: Strategic.
Arianna: Strategic's my middle names
Arianna: Dinner?
Miles stared at the screen. Then typed.
Miles: This isn't a date. It's business.
Arianna: I'll wear black.
Arianna: Just like you like it.
Miles didn't answer.
But she also didn't say no.
