Chapter Two

"Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to yell at me for drinking your fancy scotch?" I hiccupped, wiping a mixture of rain and tears from my face.

"You look like a drowned rat, Chloe," Alexander’s deep, raspy voice rumbled through the quiet room.

As my eyes adjusted to the bright light, I noticed the heavy crystal tumbler in his hand, with amber liquid swirling at the bottom. He had been sitting alone in the pitch black, drinking.

"Well, this drowned rat just lost her fiancé, her life savings, and her dignity!" I yelled back, holding the heavy glass bottle tightly to my chest. "So back off!"

Alexander downed the rest of his glass in one gulp. He set the empty glass down on a side table and took a slow step toward me. "Keep your voice down. And give me the bottle. You've had enough."

"Make me, Alexander," I challenged, raising the bottle to my lips for another swig.

He moved so fast I barely saw it. In one second, he was across the room, and in the next, his large, warm hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle, easily pulling it right out of my grip.

"Hey! Give that back!" I whined, reaching for it.

"You are drunk," he stated, setting the scotch high up on the counter where I couldn't reach it.

"I am heartbroken!" I sobbed as my sudden burst of anger vanished into pure sadness. "He was sleeping with Ruby, Xander. My own stepsister. For six whole months."

"Mark?" Alexander's jaw clenched tightly, a dangerous flash crossing his dark eyes. "He was cheating on you?"

"And he stole my fifty thousand dollars!" I cried, burying my face in my hands. "He drained my bank account for their new startup. I have nothing left. Oh God, I’m just a stupid, naive little girl who fell for a massive lie."

"You are not stupid," he said softly.

I heard his knees pop as he crouched on the marble floor in front of me. I could smell the sharp, intoxicating scent of whiskey on his breath. He wasn't sober either; the alcohol had clearly softened his usual icy control.

"You always thought I was," I sniffled, looking up at his sharp, unbelievably handsome face. "You always treated me like Mia's annoying shadow. Just a pesky little kid."

"I have not seen you as a kid for a very long time, Chloe," he replied, his voice dropping an octave.

"Liar," I whispered.

My eyes wandered down to his bare, muscular chest and the sharp lines of his stomach. I had never seen him like this before; he was always in tailored, million-dollar business suits.

"I don't lie," he murmured. He reached out, his rough thumb gently wiping a cold tear from my cheek. His touch felt hot against my freezing skin.

"Then prove it," I dared him, the alcohol erasing every single ounce of common sense in my brain. "Kiss me."

Alexander's hand froze on my cheek.

He closed his eyes for a second, a muscle ticking in his jaw like he was fighting a losing battle against his own restraint. "I have had way too much to drink tonight to be a gentleman, Chloe. Don't start something you can't finish."

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Xander," I breathed, leaning closer until I could feel his warm breath on my lips. "Finish it."

A deep, animal-like growl escaped his chest. He grabbed my waist, pulling me hard against him, and crashed his lips onto mine.

"You are going to be the death of me," he groaned against my mouth.

"Less talking," I whispered, pulling at his broad shoulders.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of intense heat, tangled sheets, and forbidden passion.

For the first time, I didn't feel broken or betrayed; I felt entirely consumed by him.

—

"Ugh, my head," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut as bright morning sunlight flooded the room through the massive bedroom windows.

My mouth tasted like dry cotton, and my brain felt like it was pounding against my skull.

"What time is it?" I mumbled to myself, rolling over.

My hand brushed against a firm, empty mattress. Opening my eyes slowly, I realized I wasn't in my tiny, cramped apartment. Instead, I was lying in a luxurious king-sized bed with grey silk sheets.

And I was completely naked.

"Oh my god," I gasped, shooting straight up in the bed.

The memories of last night hit me like a high-speed train: Mark, Ruby, the rain, the whiskey… and Alexander.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"I slept with Mia's brother!" I whispered in pure horror, clutching my head. "I slept with my best friend's terrifying, billionaire brother!"

Suddenly, the sound of running water drifted from the master bathroom. He was in the shower.

"I have to get out of here," I panicked. "If Mia ever finds out, she will never speak to me again!"

I scrambled out of bed on my shaky legs, and desperately searched the floor for my clothes. My wet dress from last night was hanging neatly over a chair, dried but completely wrinkled. I threw it on as fast as humanly possible.

"Think, Chloe, think," I muttered, pacing the room. "The interview! My interview at BluTech Industries is at ten!"

I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was already eight in the morning.

"Calm down, Chloe," I told myself, slipping into my shoes. "I have to drive all the way back to my apartment, shower, change into my cheap suit, and get to the office."

Before I bolted out the door, I looked back at the messy bed and a wave of embarrassment and anger washed over me. I felt like I couldn’t just leave without saying anything, but I was too much of a coward to face him.

I reached into my wet purse, pulled out my damp wallet, and found a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. It was my emergency gas money.

"Here is a reality check, Mr. Billionaire," I grumbled.

I slapped the fifty-dollar bill onto his pillow. It was a petty insult to his massive ego, just to prove that I didn't care about what had happened.

Then, I ran for my life.

—

"Just focus on the road," I coached myself, gripping the steering wheel as I sped down the highway. "You made a huge mistake. A stupid, sexy mindblowing mistake. But it's over now."

The drive back to my apartment took an entire hour, thanks to morning traffic.

"I have exactly forty-five minutes to fix my life," I announced to my empty, dark apartment as I unlocked my front door.

I rushed into my tiny bathroom, scrubbing the smell of Alexander's expensive cologne off my skin as quickly as I could.

I put on my only work outfit: a black skirt and an oversized white button-down shirt. I tied my damp hair into a tight bun, hoping it looked professional and not like I just ran away from a one-night-stand.

"You can do this, Chloe," I pep-talked my reflection in the mirror. "You need this job. You have zero dollars and a cheating ex. You are going to walk into BluTech Industries and blow them away."

—

"Wow," I breathed, tilting my head all the way back to look up at the towering glass skyscraper.

The BluTech headquarters was the most intimidating building in the city. I swallowed my nerves, pushed through the revolving doors, and walked straight up to the marble front desk.

"Hi, good morning," I smiled at the receptionist. "I am Chloe Adams. I am here for the final interview for the Executive Personal Assistant position."

"Ah, yes, Miss Adams," the receptionist typed quickly on her computer. "You are our final candidate. The new CEO took over the company this weekend, and he is conducting the final interviews personally."

"The new CEO?" I asked, my heart doing a nervous flip. "I thought Mr. Henderson was the CEO?"

"Mr. Henderson sold the company on Saturday," she smiled politely. "Please take the private elevator to the top floor. He is waiting for you in his office."

"Thank you," I nodded, walking toward the sleek silver elevator doors.

"You've got this," I whispered as the elevator shot up to the top floor. "Whoever this new guy is, just smile, be professional, and show him your resume."

Ding.

The doors opened to a massive, quiet reception area. At the end of the hallway stood a set of heavy oak double doors with a shiny gold plaque that read: CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the doors and knocked twice.

"Come in," a deep, chillingly familiar voice called from inside.

My blood ran cold, and my hand froze on the brass doorknob.

"No," I whispered to myself. "No, it can't be."

I slowly pushed the heavy doors open and stepped into the grand, sunlit office.

A man was sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, his back turned to me as he looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He was wearing a sharp, custom-tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly.

"Miss Adams," the man said smoothly, slowly swiveling his leather chair around to face me.

My jaw dropped as the air completely vanished from my lungs.

Sitting behind the desk, resting his chin on his hands with a dark, deadly smirk, was Alexander Thorne.

"You're late for your interview," Alexander purred.

He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out my crumpled, slightly damp fifty-dollar bill, and tossed it onto the center of his desk. "And you forgot your change."