Chapter 7

Clara Bennett

My legs felt like jelly as I walked through the empty parking lot. It was already past 9 PM, and the cold night air bit through my thin jacket.

I clutched my bag tightly against my chest, my mind still replaying every second of that charged moment in Ryder’s office.

*Not yet.* Those two words from him had been running on repeat in my head like a warning.

I was so distracted that I didn’t see him coming.

Ryder suddenly stepped out from between two parked cars, tall and powerful in his perfectly tailored black suit. We collided hard.

My bag slipped from my hands, and half my files went flying everywhere across the asphalt.

“Ah!” I gasped, bending down quickly to grab them before the wind carried them away.

“Clara,” Ryder’s deep voice cut through the night. He crouched beside me instantly, helping pick up the scattered papers with those big, strong hands. “I didn’t see you there. Are you alright?”

Our fingers brushed as we both reached for the same document. A stupid spark shot up my arm. I pulled back fast, my cheeks burning.

“I-I’m fine,” I muttered, shoving papers back into my bag. My heart was racing again. This man was everywhere.

Ryder stood up, towering over me as usual. His sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe, then flicked to my beat-up old car parked far away under a flickering light. “You’re walking all the way over there? Alone? At this hour?”

I shrugged, trying to look casual even though my hands were shaking. “It’s not that far.”

He frowned. “No. You’re not walking. I’ll give you a ride home.”

My stomach flipped. This was perfect .... too perfect. A chance to be alone with him in his car. A chance to snoop.

“I don’t want to trouble you, Mr. West,” I said, biting my lip.

“It’s not trouble.” His voice left no room for argument. He placed a warm hand on my lower back, guiding me toward his sleek black luxury car. “Get in.”

I nodded and slid into the passenger seat. The inside smelled like him.... rich leather, pine, and that wild masculine scent that made my head spin.

While Ryder walked around to the driver’s side, I quickly opened the glove compartment and rifled through the papers inside.

My eyes widened.

There it was .. a thick folder labeled *CONFIDENTIAL* in bold red letters. I pulled it out halfway, my pulse hammering. Inside I caught glimpses of strange diagrams, medical reports, and something about “specimen tracking” and “moon cycle effects.” What the hell was this?

Footsteps. Ryder was opening the driver’s door.

I shoved the folder back in and slammed the compartment shut just as he got in. My hands were sweaty. I forced a calm smile, crossing my legs and leaning back like nothing happened.

Ryder started the engine. The car purred to life smoothly. For a moment, heavy silence filled the space between us. The tension was thick enough to choke on.

He glanced at me as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You seem nervous, Clara. Is everything okay?”

I swallowed hard, gripping the seatbelt. “Y-yes. Just… first week jitters, I guess.”

He nodded slowly, keeping one hand on the wheel while the other rested casually on the gear shift. “How are you feeling about the job so far? Be honest with me.”

The question caught me completely off guard. I turned to look at him, surprised. This wasn’t the cold, ruthless boss everyone whispered about. He actually sounded… caring?

“It’s… intense,” I admitted, my voice softer than I wanted. “You’re not exactly what I expected.”

Ryder’s lips curved into a small smile. “What did you expect? Some cruel monster who eats assistants for breakfast?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Something like that. The rumors say you’re dangerous.”

He chuckled low, the sound sending warmth through my chest despite everything. “Rumors are dangerous things, Clara. What about you? You seem like you’re carrying a lot on your shoulders. Family? Money problems?”

My heart squeezed. He had no idea how right he was. For a second, I almost wanted to tell him everything ... about Victor, about Mom, about the blackmail. But I couldn’t.

“I’m managing,” I said quietly, looking out the window so he wouldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes. “My mom is sick. Cancer. It’s kinda hard sometimes.”

Ryder was quiet for a moment. Then he reached over and gently squeezed my hand. His touch was warm and surprisingly gentle. “I’m sorry to hear that. If you ever need time off or help with anything, just tell me. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

I stared at our joined hands, my body betraying me as butterflies exploded in my stomach. *Why is he being so sweet? This is the man I’m supposed to destroy.*

“Thank you,” I whispered, pulling my hand back slowly. “That means a lot.”

The rest of the ride was filled with more conversation.

He asked about my photography, my favorite food, even joked lightly about Amelia’s dramatic exit earlier. Every word made me more confused. This didn’t feel like a monster. It felt like a man who actually saw me.

When we finally pulled up in front of my small apartment building, Ryder turned to me.

“Clara,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Whatever you’re hiding… you can trust me. I protect what’s mine.”

My breath caught. I quickly opened the door before I did something stupid like lean in closer.

“Goodnight, Mr. West,” I said, practically running toward my building.

But as I glanced back, he was still watching me with those intense dark eyes.

“God help me.“