Chapter 3- First kiss

Alex sat back on the leather sofa, swirling his whiskey in the glass, the ice clinking softly with each turn. His gaze was focused on the amber liquid, lost in thought. The silence in the room stretched out as Earl stood nearby, awaiting his next command.

"Bring me a new set of clothes," Alex said, his voice steady but cold.

Earl gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir."

Alex’s eyes darkened slightly as he lifted his gaze. "And one more thing."

Earl paused, glancing at him expectantly. "Sir?"

"The waitress from earlier," Alex said, his tone sharp. "The one who delivered the food."

A faint, almost devilish smile curled on his lips. "Have the manager send her in with the wine. No one else."

Earl hesitated but nodded. "Understood, sir."

Alex took another sip from his glass, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the door. His thoughts drifted.

She was different. She had defied him earlier, not backing down like most women. Most would’ve flinched at his cold stare, but not her. Somehow, she continuously piqued his interest.

He leaned back against the chair, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass as his mind wandered.

He wasn’t the type to get involved with women. They were distractions, nothing more. Yet, something about her intrigued him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Setting the glass down, he stood and walked toward the bathroom, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. His shirt came off with a quick motion, thrown onto the marble counter. He quickly undid his belt, the rustle of fabric the only sound as he stripped down.

The bathroom was cold, stark white marble underfoot, polished to a shine. He stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water hit his skin, the steam rising and filling the air. He tilted his head back, letting the warmth soothe the tension in his muscles.

His mind drifted back to her again. Her sharp eyes, her fiery attitude—it was a contrast he hadn’t expected.

When the shower was over, he stepped out, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around his waist. Moments later, Earl entered with a fresh set of clothes, placing them neatly on the bed.

“The manager has been informed,” Earl said. “She’ll be here shortly.”

Alex gave a brief nod, his face filled with mischievousness. "Good."

Earl bowed slightly and left. Alex took his time dressing, buttoning up his shirt slowly, leaving the top two undone.

The lines of his chest were visible under the dark fabric. After slipping on his watch, he walked over to the chair and poured himself another glass of whiskey.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence.

“Come in,” Alex said, his voice calm.

The door slowly opened, and there she was.

Eve stepped inside, holding a bottle of wine, her eyes flicking around the room before landing on him.

She paused, taking him in by surprise. His damp hair, the way his shirt hung open at the collar, exposing his sturdy chest. Her expression was calm, but her posture was stiff.

"You?" she asked, surprise in her voice.

Alex met her gaze, his lips curling slightly. “Pour the wine.”

She set the bottle down on the small table, her movements sharp. “You’ve got hands. Do it yourself.”

Alex’s smile deepened, but there was a cold edge to his voice. “Are you refusing to do your job?”

She snapped at him again in a sour expression. “I didn’t sign up to be your personal servant.”

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze unflinching. “Did you not hear me?”

Eve glared at him, clearly unafraid. “Maybe you’re not used to hearing ‘no.’”

His smile sharpened. "That’s the problem, isn't it? But I don’t have time for games.”

Eve picked up the bottle unwillingly, uncorked it with a quick twist. It's very clear that she's greatly restraining her anger.

She poured the wine into his glass, the sound of it filling the silence between them, then placed the bottle down.

"Happy now?" she asked in irritation.

She was about to turn to the door, but before she could make a move, Alex’s hand shot out grabbing her wrist. The sudden movement made her tense up.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, looking down at his hand around her wrist.

"You didn’t finish," he said, his voice low.

"I poured the wine," she snapped.

"You didn’t hand it to me."

Eve’s frustration was clear. "You can reach for it yourself."

Alex tightened his grip on her wrist just enough to make her breath quicken. His eyes locked on hers as he brought the glass to his lips. He took a slow sip, then set it down, his gaze still on her.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Eve’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

Alex’s thumb brushed her wrist, and she could feel the tension in his touch. “You’re trembling.”

"I’m not," she replied, though her voice was shaky.

Then, her knee shot up, aiming for his shin, but Alex anticipated her move.

His hand shot out, grabbing her leg before it made contact. He moved, stepping into her space, his height looming over her.

“You’re tempting me,” Alex murmured, his hand sliding up her arm. His fingers brushed the pulse at her throat.

Eve’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening. “Let me go.”

He didn’t. Instead, his hand trailed down the line of her jaw, his touch soft but firm. “Not yet.”

Before she could speak, Alex’s mouth covered hers.

His kiss was sudden, forceful, and unrelenting.

Eve froze for a moment, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. His lips were rough against hers, his hands holding her still as he deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding entry.

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, but her body betrayed her. The heat in her veins, the rush of adrenaline—it was overwhelming.

She pushed against his chest, trying to break free, but he didn’t budge. His hand gripped her neck, keeping her in place as he kissed her with a ferocity that left her breathless.

Finally, with a sharp gasp, she wrenched herself free, shoving him hard enough to create some space between them.

“Pervert!” She shouted at him with widened eyes.

Alex’s gaze remained fixed on her, dark and menacing. “What’s wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

Her eyes blazed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Alex chuckled softly. “You’ve got quite a temper.”

“You're a psychopath!” Eve screeched in anger, her hand already lifting.

But before she could move, Alex’s smile deepened. "I’d like to see you try."

But then, Eve’s hand whipped through the air, landing sharply across his cheek.

The sound of the slap echoed through the room, and for a moment, everything was still.

Alex’s head tilted slightly from the force, but his eyes never left her face. His expression remained eerily calm, as if nothing had happened.

A faint red mark bloomed across his cheek, but he wasn’t angry. Instead, his lips curled into that same dark smile.

"Interesting," he said, his voice low.