Claimed by Her Father's Shadow

Alex sat alone in the dim office long after the last employee had left. Rain still tapped against the windows like impatient fingers. The city lights below blurred into streaks of gold and red.He couldn’t stop replaying it.Her soaked blouse clinging to skin he had no business imagining. The way she’d lifted her chin and thrown his words back at him. “Only when they stare like that.”He’d stared. He was still staring, in his head, at the memory of her mouth forming the challenge.His fist came down on the desk. Not hard enough to crack anything. Just enough to feel the sting.“Fuck,” he muttered.He shouldn’t have leaned in. Shouldn’t have brushed her hand. Shouldn’t have let the words slip out: “I could teach you a few things.”Patrick’s voice echoed from last week’s call.“She’s back in town, Alex. Struggling after that boy, and won’t talk about it. I’m worried she’ll spiral again. You’re moving to Evergreen Ridge anyway. Keep an eye on her for me? You’re the only one I trust with

Alex stayed in the office long after Bridget left. The rain had stopped, but the air still felt heavy, charged. He could still smell her. Something citrus-sharp and clean, lingering on the chair where she’d sat. He could still see the flush on her cheeks when Jake walked in, the way her shoulders stiffened, the way she’d looked at Alex afterward like she was daring him to do something about it.He hadn’t.He’d let her walk out.Now the silence was suffocating.He paced once, twice then stopped at the window. Pressed his palm to the glass. Cold seeped into his skin, but it did nothing to cool the rage still simmering under his ribs.Jake’s smirk. The casual way he’d said “She always comes around.” Like she was a habit he could pick up again whenever he felt like it.Alex’s fist clenched.He pulled out his phone, and found her number.Typed: *Meet me at the mansion. Now.*Sent it without explanation.He didn’t wait for a reply. He grabbed his keys and left.The drive to Evergreen Ridge

Bridget walked into Ridge Enterprises at 7:50 a.m. on Wednesday like she was stepping onto a minefield.The lobby security guard gave her the same polite nod he’d given her every morning this week, but today it felt like he knew. Like everyone knew. She kept her head down in the elevator, staring at the polished steel doors instead of her reflection. She didn’t want to see the faint mark Alexander had left on the side of her neck last night. It was barely visible under concealer, but screaming to her.The twenty-third floor was already humming. Phones ringing softly, keyboards clacking, the low murmur of early-morning strategy calls. She dropped her bag at the small desk outside Alexander’s office. He’d assigned her on Monday with a curt “This is yours now” as he pretended to organize files while her pulse hammered.His door was closed. No light under it yet.She opened her laptop, pulled up the market analysis spreadsheet he’d emailed her at 1:14 a.m. Subject line: *Preliminary due d