Chapter 11

Evelyn

Today was uneventful—at least, on the surface. But beneath it all, something simmered. It felt like Xander was pulling away from me, intentionally keeping his distance. Since I dropped off the files he asked for this morning, I hadn’t seen or heard from him. I didn’t even step foot in his office, except when I popped in briefly to inform him that his visitor, Mike, had arrived—Mike, who couldn’t stop staring at my legs like they were the main attraction.

I didn’t let it bother me. Instead, I buried myself in familiarizing with the company, keeping busy just to keep my mind from wandering—though it didn’t work.

Now it’s nearly 5 p.m., and Xander still hasn’t emerged from his office. I’m scrolling through the schedule he sent earlier when Natasha appears beside me.

“Hey girl, missed you at lunch. Everything good?”

“I wasn’t really hungry.”

I’m still adjusting to people being in my space. Natasha, on the other hand, seems to thrive on invading everyone else’s. She’s cool, sure, but she radiates the kind of high-energy that makes my nerves buzz.

“Hmm. So, how was the day with Mr. Almighty CEO?” she asks with that mischievous gleam in her eyes.

I shrug. “Didn’t do much. He locked himself in the office all day.”

“Yikes. Can’t say I envy him. There’s a mountain of work waiting for him—and his dad’s been MIA. I heard the company was on the brink of bankruptcy until Xander pulled some miracle, brought in fresh investors. Mr. Barker included.”

“Mr. Barker?” I frown.

“He’s his father-in-law.”

Oh. Yasmine’s father. That tracks.

But how does Natasha know this stuff? I’m starting to think she’s more involved with Xander than she lets on. And that could be... useful.

“Are you free after work?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Kind of. Why?”

“Let’s hang out. You seem to know a lot about what’s going on, and I wouldn’t mind catching up.”

“I’ve got sources. Very confidential, very juicy. Sure, let’s go. There’s a bar not far from here. The bartender there? Total eye candy. You’ll love it.”

She winks and strolls off.

Like I said—pure energy. But maybe what I need is exactly that. Something to distract me. Or someone.

When the clock finally hits five, I gather my things, fix my appearance, and head to Xander’s office to say goodbye. I knock once.

“Enter.”

His voice is crisp, commanding.

I step inside.

He’s standing in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone as he speaks in a low murmur. His back is to me, but the sight is magnetic. The way his shoulders stretch beneath his white shirt, the sharp lines of his frame outlined by the fading sun—it’s almost cinematic.

He turns slightly, just enough for his gaze to flicker to me. His eyes darken for a split second before he looks away, continuing his conversation. I stay by the door, watching.

His jacket lies abandoned on the couch, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, veined forearms. The way the fabric hugs his biceps is almost obscene. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his hands through it all day. There’s a kind of rawness to him—unpolished, on edge, feral.

My eyes trace the length of him, and suddenly my imagination betrays me.

I see myself bent over his desk, his hand wrapped in my hair, his voice low and rough in my ear. The heat that rises through me is instant, electric. I squeeze my thighs together and silently curse myself.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I’ve never been so plagued by desire, but something about Xander ignites something dangerous in me. Every look from him feels like a challenge—like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

And I hate it.

I should hate it. He’s the son of the man who destroyed my family.

He’s supposed to be the target.

Not the temptation.

I snap out of it when I realize he’s no longer talking.

He’s watching me now.

I straighten. “I’m done for the day, sir. I’m heading out.”

He nods slowly and walks over to his desk. “You didn’t have much to do today. I had matters to attend to, and I needed privacy. Tomorrow will be different—I’ve got a seminar in the afternoon. Make sure you remind me.”

“Okay, sir.” I turn to leave.

“Also…”

His voice stops me. I pause.

“You’ll be accompanying me. Dress appropriately. We leave by noon.”

He doesn’t look at me as he says it, but the tone in his voice—commanding, cold, and layered with something unspoken—settles deep in my bones.

Dismissed.

I walk out of the office feeling flustered and annoyed—mostly at myself. This whole power dynamic is infuriating. I’m not used to being so... reactive. Especially to someone I’m supposed to hate.

I grab my things and meet Natasha outside. We head to The Long Island Bar. It’s quieter than expected, but that’s fine. My mind is loud enough. We head to the bar and climb onto high stools.

The bartender is just as Natasha promised—sexy, inked, and cocky as hell. A stud glints in his ear, and he grins wide when he sees her.

“Delilah. Looking good as always.”

I arch a brow at Natasha, who plays dumb. Delilah?

“Thanks, hon,” she says, fluttering her lashes. “As it should be.” Then she gestures to me. “This is my friend, Evelyn. Evelyn, meet Damon—the walking, talking thirst trap I told you about.”

Damon tips his head at me, grinning. “Are all your friends this stunning?”

“No. Just the ones who are taken—or completely unavailable,” Natasha replies with a wicked smirk.

“A tragedy,” he sighs. “Drinks are on the house.”

He takes our order, and soon we’re both sipping cold beers.

As he walks away, I lean toward Natasha. “Delilah, huh? He in love or just role-playing?”

“Maybe both,” she jokes, and we burst out laughing.

The bar door swings open.

Two tall figures walk in and head toward the counter.

My laughter dies in my throat as I make eye contact with one of them.

Xander.