MadisonHe moved closer, his reflection appearing beside mine in the glass. "And what if I want more?" My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my voice steady. "More what? More time? More exclusivity? Just add it to the contract." "You're being deliberately obtuse." I spun to face him. "And you're being deliberately vague. What do you want from me, Alexander?" He stepped closer, invading my personal space in the way he always did. "Right now? This." Before I could react, his hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. His eyes darkened as he leaned in, his intention clear. I turned my head slightly, his lips grazing my cheek instead of their intended target. "I'm tired. It's been a long day." Alexander froze for a moment, then stepped back. No force, no pressure—just immediate retreat. "Of course." "My mom just got discharged. I'm jet-lagged from London, and we still have the Vanessa situation hanging over our heads." I tucked my hair behind my ear, avoidin
MadisonI peeked into Mom's room, finding her already dozing. I scribbled a quick note explaining I was going out, left it on her nightstand, and then grabbed my purse. "Ready," I announced, rejoining Alexander in the living room. The ride down in the elevator was silent. I stared at the descending numbers, hyper-aware of Alexander standing beside me, his cologne filling the small space. When we reached the lobby, he guided me through the doors with a light touch at the small of my back. "I sent the driver home," Alexander said once we stepped outside. "I'll drive us." His car waited at the curb, sleek and intimidating like its owner. He opened the passenger door for me, a gesture that felt both gentlemanly and possessive. "Where are we going?" I asked as he slid into the driver's seat. "My place." The engine purred to life, and Alexander pulled into traffic with practiced ease. I watched his hands on the steering wheel, remembering how those same hands had touched me just days
MadisonWhen we arrived at my apartment building, Alexander insisted on carrying my mother's bags despite her protests. "I've been carrying my own luggage since before you were born, young man," she argued. "Which is precisely why you should allow me the courtesy now," he countered smoothly. She relented with a smile. "Well, when you put it that way." The elevator ride to my floor was mercifully brief. As I unlocked my apartment door, I suddenly saw my modest home through Alexander's eyes: the mismatched furniture, the stack of books by the couch, and the small kitchen with its outdated appliances. It was a far cry from his penthouse. But if Alexander noticed the difference, he didn't show it. He set my mother's bags down in the living room and glanced around with interest. "Nice place," he said, and surprisingly, it didn't sound condescending. "It's small but comfortable," my mother replied. I glanced around our modest apartment, suddenly self-conscious about the worn couch a
MadisonI froze mid-step, unable to process the scene before me. Alexander Knight—billionaire CEO, my boss, my fake boyfriend, the man who'd had me pinned against his office wall—was chatting with my mother like they were old friends. "So I tell him, 'If you think that's how plumbing works, I've got a bridge to sell you in Brooklyn!'" my mother said, gesturing wildly. Alexander threw his head back and laughed. "That's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." I approached slowly, feeling like I'd stepped into an alternate dimension. Neither had noticed me yet. "And what exactly is happening here?" I asked, drawing their attention. Alexander turned, his smile widening when he saw me. "Madison! I was just getting acquainted with this delightful woman." He placed his hand on the small of my back, leaning in close. "Meet my girlfriend," he said smoothly. My jaw dropped. "Mom, he's just—" "Mom?" Alexander's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, my daughter," my mother said, beaming. "Though she apparent
MadisonAfter the meeting, I headed back to my PA desk, juggling thoughts about project timelines and wondering what Alexander's schedule looked like for the afternoon. I'd barely settled in when my phone buzzed with a text from the hospital confirming Mom's discharge time. I knocked on Alexander's office door, hearing his deep "Come in" before entering. He sat behind his massive desk, phone pressed to his ear, but his eyes immediately locked with mine. He held up one finger, signaling me to wait while he finished his call. "Yes, that's correct. I expect those numbers by the end of the day." He hung up, setting the phone down with deliberate precision. "Madison. How was the project meeting?" "Productive. We're on schedule." I approached his desk, placing a folder in front of him. "These need your signature." He flipped through the documents, signing each with quick, confident strokes. "I received some interesting information this morning." "Oh?" I perched on the edge of the chai
MadisonAs the Bentley pulled away from The Savoy, I stole one last glance at the iconic London hotel. My first trip to London had been anything but ordinary, from sightseeing at London's landmarks to uncovering the person behind the drug incident. "Going to miss London?" Alexander asked, noticing my backward glance. "The parts where I wasn't involved in your personal spy drama? Yes, absolutely." He chuckled, his hand finding mine on the leather seat between us. "Next time, we'll skip the espionage." "Next time?" I raised an eyebrow. "Already planning another trip, Mr. Knight?" "Perhaps." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Paris in the spring is quite spectacular." The casual way he mentioned future plans made my stomach flutter. I turned to look out the window, hiding whatever expression might have crossed my face. The car slowed as we approached the private airfield. A sleek white jet waited on the tarmac, gleaming under the morning sun like an elegant bird poised for flig