Lucian

The moment Lexi Carter stumbled into me at the gala, two things came to mind. Firstly, she was the worst spy I'd ever seen, and secondly, I had to have her.

Not like that. Though the way her ridiculous dress clung to her hips certainly didn't hurt. But what fascinated me was the fire in her eyes when she accused me of dishonesty. Most people either feared me or wanted something from me. Lexi looked at me like I was a stain on her favorite shoes.

Finally, someone interesting. I smirked.

At the gala, the champagne flute in my hand was just for show. I hadn't taken a sip all evening. I was too busy watching the little journalist from The Daily Buzz make her terrible attempt at espionage. Lexi Carter moved through the charity gala like a bull in a crystal shop, her cheap black dress and scuffed heels standing out among the designer gowns like a warning sign.

Gregory appeared at my elbow. “She hacked our press list to get in, sir. Should I have security remove her?”

I watched as Lexi nearly tripped over a waiter, catching herself at the last second. The flush that crept up her neck was almost... charming. “No,” I said, finishing my untouched drink. “I'll handle this one personally.”

The moment she collided with me was more satisfying than it should have been. The way her body stiffened when she realized who she'd run into. Her camera was practically begging to be taken, clutched in white-knuckled fingers.

“You're not very subtle, Miss Carter,” I said, plucking the device from her hands with ease. Up close, she smelled like citrus and something earthy, shampoo from a drugstore bottle, probably. The realization shouldn't have been as intriguing as it was.

Her recovery was admirable. Chin jutting out, eyes flashing. “And you're not very honest. What are you hiding, Mr. Cross?” She replied. Which got me wondering if I was still the same person.

Most people stuttered when I got this close. Most people backed down. But this girl just leaned in, her breath warm against my jaw as she practically dared me to throw her out.

That's when I knew I had to play with this one. Just a little.

I'm sure she might be wondering how I got her name. She’d be shocked when she finds out I know a lot about her.

I had my assistant dig up all he could on her the moment I saw her standing outside the hotel looking like she didn't belong here.

From my penthouse balcony, I watched the city lights twinkle like fallen stars.

Gregory walked in. “Miss Carter is downstairs, sir.”

A slow smile spread across my face. Perfect.

The elevator doors opened to reveal Lexi pacing my lobby like a caged animal. She'd changed out of that tragic dress into jeans and a sweater that did absolutely nothing to hide the curves beneath. Though she still looked out of place. Her head snapped up when she heard me approach.

“You're late,” she accused, arms crossing over her chest.

I smirked, loosening my tie. “I own the building. I'm never late, everyone else is simply early.”

She rolled her eyes. “Spare me the billionaire platitudes. Why am I here? I could have just signed the papers at the hall.”

I led her toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “Because despite your terrible spy skills, you're the first reporter in years who's looked at me like I'm the villain instead of an ATM.”

Lexi snorted. “Don't flatter yourself. I look at all billionaires that way.”

“Which is exactly why you're perfect.” I smiled. “Let's skip the foreplay,” I said, leading her to the elevator. “You think I'm hiding something. And I think you're desperate enough to take stupid risks.” The doors slid shut. “Prove me wrong.”

Lexi's eyes narrowed. “I don't…”

The elevator jolted. The lights flickered. Then everything went dark.

Lexi's gasp was swallowed by the hum of dead machinery. Her fingers brushed my arm in the darkness.

“Relax,” I murmured. “This happens all the time.”

“Bullshit,” she hissed. “This thing probably costs more than my apartment.”

I could practically hear her mind racing. Good.

There was silence for a while, then she spoke. “Did you... engineer this?” Her voice dripped with disbelief.

I didn't answer. The emergency lights flickered on, casting her furious face in ghostly blue.

“You're insane,” she breathed.

I stepped closer, caging her against the wall. “And you're still here.”

Her pulse fluttered at her throat. She wasn't afraid.

The elevator jolted back to life, and the doors opened.

Lexi stormed into my living room like a hurricane. “What the hell was that?”

“A test.” I poured two whiskeys, sliding one across the bar. “And you passed.”

She ignored the glass. “I don't play games, Mr. Cross.”

“Everyone plays games.” I took a slow sip. “Yours is pretending you're not curious about why a man worth more than 100 billion dollars would care about a broke tabloid reporter.”

Her jaw tightened. I got her.

I circled her like a shark. “Your boss pays you in pennies. Your father's debts are choking you. And despite that sharp tongue, you're good at this.” I stopped inches away. “So here's the deal, real access to my world. My real story. But you play by my rules.”

Lexi's laugh was brittle. “Rules like randomly trapped elevators?”

“Rules like trust.” I tapped the contract on the table. “Sign it, and I'll show you what no other journalist has seen.”

She hesitated. I saw the war in her eyes, pride versus need.

Finally, she grabbed the pen. “If this is some rich boy mindfuck…”

I caught her wrist. “Oh, it is.” My thumb brushed her racing pulse. “But you'll love every second of it.”

Her breath hitched. The pen hovered over the paper.

Her hand trembled slightly as she pushed the paper back across my desk, those fiery brown eyes burning with equal parts defiance and desperation. The overhead lights caught the gold flecks in her irises, making them glow like embers.

“Happy?” She snapped, crossing her arms over that ridiculous sweater.

“Ecstatic.” I slid the signed contract into my desk drawer. “Gregory will show you to your new office tomorrow. Nine AM sharp.”

Lexi scoffed. “What, no celebratory drink? No 'welcome to the team' speech?”

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. The way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat betrayed her braveness. “You don't want speeches. You want answers. You can't wait to find out the secret I'm hiding.”

She rolled her eyes. “Damn right I do.”

“This feels like a trap,” she muttered, glaring at me. The afternoon light caught the gold flecks in her brown eyes, making them glow like whiskey held up to firelights.

I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers. “Of course it’s a trap. The question is…” I gestured to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, “...are you smart enough to spring it?”

Her nostrils flared. God, she was beautiful when she was angry.

“You're out of your mind, Mr. Cross.” She hissed. “I'm leaving.” She stood up to leave. She is angry.

I stood up, walking towards her, my gaze never leaving hers. “You're right. I am hiding something. But it's not what you think.”

“I don't care.” Sue shot back.

Before I could reply, someone walked in.

Lexi’s face dropped.

“Giselle,” I called, disgust evident in my voice.

She eyed Lexi like she was trash, and that did not sit well with me.

“Who is this slut, baby?” Giselle asked, advancing towards me.

“Baby? Wow.” Lexi smiled.

I tightened my fist, holding off my anger. “If you take one more step, Giselle… I will end you.”

“Baby…” she whined, glaring at Lexi who was trying her best not to burst.

“I'm leaving, Mr. Cross, see you at Nine AM tomorrow .” Lexi walked out, hitting her shoulder against Giselle's.

I swallowed the urge to run after her.

“Your days are over, Giselle.” I threatened, slumping on the couch in frustration.

The hell is wrong with me?

Giselle stormed off.