CHAPTER TWO

Elian's Pov

I woke up pissed.

There was no real reason, except maybe the fact that I hadn’t slept. My mind had been a warzone, memories, regrets, and the ghost of Dax’s voice echoing in places it had no business reaching. By the time the first hint of dawn bled through the blinds, I was already bracing for a day I knew I’d hate.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved through the hallway barefoot, shirtless, and already reaching for the aspirin in the cabinet I kept above the sink. But something stopped me cold.

Coffee.

The smell hit me hard. Strong. Rich. Freshly brewed. My stomach turned not because I didn’t want it, but because it was impossible.

I lived alone.

I stepped into the kitchen and immediately I saw him, my mind went back to factory mode. Dax. He was leaning against my counter like he owned the place, sleeves rolled up, two mugs on the granite island, steam curling from both like this was a fucking Sunday morning in suburbia.

My jaw locked.

The kitchen was mine. Sacred. Private. Untouched by anyone except me and, on rare occasions, family who knew better than to linger. Dax hadn’t even been here a full day and already he was violating boundaries he didn’t have the right to touch.

“You helping yourself around the house now?” My voice came out like a blade, sharp and cold.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance at me.

“I needed caffeine,” he said, like that was a valid explanation. “Figured you would too. You’re welcome.”

The audacity. The ease.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Know your fucking place,” I snapped, stepping closer. “You’re not my roommate. You’re not my friend. You’re my staff. Don’t touch anything in this house without my permission.”

He finally looked up, calm, unreadable, with those maddening eyes giving nothing away.

“Didn’t realize coffee was off limits to bodyguards.”

That smug serenity of his like he knew he had me cornered without ever lifting a finger made my skin itch. I wanted to say more. I wanted to wipe the self-satisfaction off his face with something cruel and precise.

Instead, I walked away.

The scalding water of the shower barely did anything to thaw the ice boiling under my skin. I let it pour over me like a punishment, pressing my forehead to the cold marble wall and breathing through clenched teeth. I hated how much space he took up physically, mentally, and fucking emotionally.

And I hated that he knew it.

………..

When I left the house that morning, I was dressed to kill and determined to remind him who ran this show.

I cancelled a morning meeting just to throw off his rhythm. Reworked my entire calendar and changed routes. I wanted him scrambling to fit into my schedule. I wanted control.

But Dax was always right there.

Five steps behind. Always in sync. Always professional. Calm and collected like he’d already memorized my chaos.

In the backseat of the car, I turned my head slightly toward the tinted window.

“You think this is a game?” I muttered. “Following me around like some silent angel and pretending like you like your job?”

“It’s not a game,” he said without missing a heartbeat. “But you’re sure playing hard to protect.”

I bit back a retort. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. Or worse that he was getting under my skin.

By evening, I’d had enough.

I was supposed to attend a high-stakes networking gala with tech investors, CEOs, people with too much money and too little conscience. Normally, I handled these events with brutal efficiency. Charm and grit. I'll shake hands and disappear.

But tonight… I wanted to twist the knife.

I spotted Archer Quinn across the room. Rival CEO. Charismatic and tall enough to make a statement. He had a reputation for being gay so he was my target. The kind of man Dax would clock the moment he stepped into view.

I walked up to him, drink in hand and gave him a razor-sharp.

“Archer,” I purred, placing a light hand on his wrist. “Still charming your way through subpar acquisitions?”

He laughed and leaned in. “Elian Lanchester. I’d say you’ve never looked better, but that suit is probably worth more than my last bonus.”

I laughed louder than necessary. Touched his chest and let the space between us get intimate, too intimate.

And it worked.

I felt Dax before I saw him. A shift in the atmosphere. A vibration in my spine. And then chaos.

One second, Archer was whispering something crude in my ear and the next, Dax intercepted someone just feets away. He slammed the guy to the ground so hard, the floor shook.

Gasps rippled across the ballroom. Security swarmed and as the spotlight swilled around, my eyes fell on something.  

A knife.

The would-be attacker had a short blade, sleek and deadly, tucked beneath his sleeve.

My blood turned to ice.

“Move,” Dax barked, gripping my arm before I could even process what was happening. “We’re leaving. Now.”

I didn’t argue. Couldn’t. Not when I was still seeing that glint of steel flash through the light.

………..

The car ride was suffocating. The silence pressed against my ears, hot and heavy. My hands trembled slightly, resting on my thighs.

Then Dax exploded. “What the fuck were you thinking, Lanchester?”

I jerked like he’d slapped me. He’d never raised his voice. Not once, not even when I baited him this morning.

“That man was a decoy,” he seethed, eyes burning through me. “You were too busy playing high school jealousy games to notice someone was tracking your movements all night.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m some idiot…”

“Then stop acting like one!”

We were nose to nose. Breathing hard. My anger flared, matching his. I shoved at him, not hard, just enough to demand space.

He didn’t give it.

Instead, he pushed me back calmly, firmly pinning me against the car’s door. His hand gripped my bicep, tight but not painful. His chest brushed mine. His eyes didn’t move.

Our breathing synced ragged, fast, too close. Too much.

I felt heat rising under my skin, confusion twisting in my gut. “You’re so close,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “You gonna kiss me? or kill me?”

For a moment, he said nothing. 

“I’m going to fix your fucking ass,” he growled, low and lethal. “Before someone actually succeeds in getting you killed.”

He stepped back.

Just like that, the warmth vanished. Cold air filled the space between us, and I slumped into the seat, heart hammering.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Unmoving. Still seething. But composed again.

And despite everything he said, despite how uninterested he looked he didn’t say he wouldn’t kiss me.

That part ? He left hanging.