Chapter 2

JENNA

His hand is warm.

That’s the first thing I notice when my fingers slip into his. Warm, steady, confident—like he’s done this a thousand times, like he knows exactly how to guide someone through a city that could swallow them whole.

I’m not sure why I take it.

Maybe because I’m new here.

Maybe because I’m lonely.

Maybe because something about him feels… inevitable.

We step out of the bar and into the cold night. The air bites at my skin, sharp and unforgiving, but his hand doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t rush.

He doesn’t pull.

He just walks beside me, matching my pace, like he’s done this with me before.

“Where are you staying?” he asks quietly.

“On 82nd,” I say. “A small apartment. I just moved in.”

He nods. “Montana to Manhattan. That’s a hell of a jump.”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah. I’m still adjusting.”

“You will,” he says. “This city tests you. But if you survive it, it becomes yours.”

I glance up at him. “Is it yours?”

His jaw tightens. “It used to be.”

There’s a story there—something sharp, something painful—but I don’t push.

We walk in silence for a moment, the city humming around us. Cars rush by, neon lights flicker, people laugh in the distance. Everything feels too big, too loud, too alive.

But his presence grounds me.

“Why did you come to New York?” he asks.

“My parents died when I was little,” I say softly. “I was raised by my grandparents in Montana. They… they always wanted me to chase something bigger. Something more.”

He looks at me, really looks at me, and something in his expression softens.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

I shrug, even though the ache never really goes away. “It was a long time ago.”

“Pain doesn’t care about time,” he murmurs.

I swallow hard. “What about you? Why were you at the bar tonight?”

His lips twitch. “My friends dragged me out.”

“Because of the dare?”

He stops walking.

My breath catches.

He turns to face me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You heard that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I whisper. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I didn’t choose you because of the dare.”

My heart stutters. “Then why?”

He steps closer, his voice low. “Because you were the only woman in that bar who wasn’t trying to be seen.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “I wasn’t hiding.”

“You were,” he says softly. “But not from me.”

I look away, overwhelmed. “I’m not… I’m not used to this.”

“To what?”

“Men like you.”

He raises a brow. “Men like me?”

“Confident. Intense. Dangerous.”

A slow smile curves his lips. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He leans in, his breath brushing my ear. “Good.”

My knees nearly buckle.

We start walking again, but the air between us feels charged now—electric, humming, alive.

When we reach my building, I stop at the steps.

“This is me,” I say, my voice barely steady.

He nods, hands in his pockets now, watching me with an intensity that makes my pulse race.

“Thank you,” I say. “For walking me home.”

“You shouldn’t walk alone at night,” he replies. “Not in this city.”

“I’ll be careful.”

He steps closer. “I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to be safe.”

My breath catches.

He’s too close.

Too intense.

Too much.

“Jaxon…” I whisper.

His eyes darken when I say his name.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

“Jaxon.”

He exhales slowly, like the sound of it does something to him.

He lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers graze my cheek, and I swear the world tilts.

“Tell me to leave,” he says softly.

I can’t.

I don’t want to.

But I should.

“I…” My voice breaks. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to know,” he whispers. “Just feel.”

He leans in.

My heart slams against my ribs.

His lips hover inches from mine—close enough to taste the warmth of his breath, close enough to feel the pull, close enough to fall.

I want to kiss him.

God, I want to kiss him.

But fear grips me.

I pull back suddenly, breath shaking. “I can’t.”

He freezes.

Not angry.

Not frustrated.

Just… still.

“Because you’re a virgin,” he says quietly.

I nod, embarrassed.

He steps back immediately, hands raised slightly, like he’s afraid to scare me.

“Jenna,” he says gently, “I’m not going to touch you. Not like that. Not tonight.”

My chest tightens. “Why?”

“Because you deserve more than a dare,” he says. “And I’m not that man with you.”

I swallow hard. “Who are you with me?”

He hesitates.

Then whispers, “Someone I don’t recognize.”

The words hit me like a spark.

He takes another step back, giving me space. “Go inside.”

I nod, turning toward the door.

But before I can open it, he speaks again.

“Jenna.”

I look over my shoulder.

He’s standing at the bottom of the steps, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on mine.

“I’m glad I met you tonight.”

My heart flips.

“Goodnight,” he says softly.

“Goodnight,” I whisper.

I slip inside the building, closing the door behind me.

I lean against it, breathless, shaken, alive in a way I’ve never felt before.

I don’t know what tonight was.

I don’t know what he wants.

I don’t know what this means.

But I know one thing:

I’m not going to forget him.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

**

The next morning, I wake up early, nerves buzzing through me. Today is my first day at my new job. My first real step into adulthood. My first chance to prove I belong in this city.

I dress carefully—white blouse, black skirt, hair pulled back. I look professional. Capable. Ready.

I take the subway, clutching my bag, rehearsing my introduction in my head.

When I reach the building, I stare up at it in awe.

Vale Industries.

The name gleams in silver letters across the glass.

I step inside, heart pounding, and approach the front desk.

“Hi,” I say. “I’m Jenna Hart. I’m the new executive secretary.”

The receptionist smiles. “Welcome. You’ll be working on the top floor. The CEO’s office.”

My stomach flips.

CEO.

I nod, trying to stay calm, and take the elevator up.

The doors open to a sleek, modern hallway. I walk toward the largest office at the end, my heels clicking softly.

I knock.

“Come in,” a deep voice calls.

I open the door.

And freeze.

Jaxon is standing behind the desk.

His eyes widen.

My breath stops.

He whispers my name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

“Jenna?”