Chapter 3

If tension could be bottled, Lena’s office would be overflowing with it by noon.

The morning had been a blur of emails, scheduling chaos, and trying not to think about Damien Cross—the same man who had his pinned her against the door of his office mere hours ago. She hadn’t seen him since that unexpected shocking encounter, and part of her hoped it would stay that way. It had been too much. Too intense.

So when her office door eased open and Evan stepped in holding a brown bag and wearing that cocky grin she always loved, she exhaled in surprise.

“Hey,” he said, lifting the bag. “Thought you might be hungry.”

Her brows shot up. “Evan? What are you doing here?”

“Bringing you lunch. It's your first day and it's already so busy, and I figured you wouldn’t have time to grab anything.” He walked toward her desk and placed the bag down.

Lena smiled despite herself. “That’s... really sweet of you. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Figured I’d steal five minutes of your time.”

She sat down and opened the bag, the scent of garlic pasta making her stomach rumble. “God, you’re a lifesaver.”

Evan pulled a chair close. “Busy morning?”

“Crazy,” she sighed. “The last secretary left a disaster. I’m still trying to figure out which department uses what format for reports. Honestly, I haven’t had time to think about anything else.”

“Not even me?” he teased, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

Before she could answer, the door to her office clicked open again—and everything froze.

Damien Cross stepped inside, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp as they took in the scene. Evan, sitting comfortably beside her. Lena, mid-bite with a forkful of pasta halfway to her mouth.

“Miss Morgan,” Damien said slowly, his voice cool. “Do you know this person?”

Her heart dropped.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Evan beat her to it. He stood and chuckled—bitter, sharp, full of resentment.

“Person?” he repeated, then spat, “Really, Dad?”

The word hit like a punch.

Lena blinked rapidly. Wait. What? Her boss was her boyfriend’s father?

“I thought you hated me,” Damien said, his eyes drifting to Lena . “What are you doing here? With my secretary?”

Damien’s gaze flicked down to the small space between them—then to Evan’s hand, which slipped protectively around Lena’s waist.

“I can be as close to her as I want,” Evan added, pulling her closer. “She’s my girlfriend, after all.”

Damien’s jaw ticked. His attention returned to Lena, burning and unreadable.

Lena quickly looked away. She didn’t want to be in this moment. She wanted to disappear, slide into the floor, erase the past ten seconds. Boss. Boyfriend. Father. What the actual hell.

With a tense silence hanging between them, Damien finally turned and walked out, the door shutting sharply behind him.

Lena pushed Evan’s hand off her waist.

“Lena, I can explain—” he started, but she cut him off.

“I sure hope you’ve got a damn good explanation.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t have the best relationship, okay? Growing up, he wasn’t around. Missed everything. I cut him off years ago.”

She softened—slightly. “That may be true, Evan. But you should’ve told me. My boss is your father. That’s kind of a huge deal. I mean, did I even merit this job?"

“You earned this job on your own, I swear. I didn’t even know you applied here until you got it.”

She let out a breath. “Fine.”

“Come here.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing her gently. And at first, it was soft, apologetic—but then it grew hotter, hungrier, like he was trying to claim her again, stake his place.

That is, until a voice shattered the moment.

“Miss Monroe.”

She tore herself away from Evan like she’d been slapped.

Damien dropped a thick stack of files on her desk without looking at either of them. “I need you to finalize these for the board meeting tomorrow. Make sure every number is accurate.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He just walked off.

“Y-Yes, sir,” Lena said, her voice breathless.

“Who the hell is Monroe?” Evan muttered. “ He can't even get your name right. It's Morgan! What an asshole." He scowled.

“Evan!” she hissed. “Don’t get me fired!”

“Like he would dare.” He leaned in again, voice lower now. “Dinner tonight. Let me take you out."

She hesitated. “I can’t. I have... plans with Hailey. Girls’ night.”

That was a lie. She had another job tonight. Another video to shoot.

Evan’s smile dimmed, just a little. “Right. Okay. Tomorrow then.”

“I’ll call you.” She walked him to the elevator. “Bye.”

“Love you,” he said, stepping in.

“Love you too,” she whispered.

And then she turned back to her desk, heart still pounding.

Evening had rolled around and she was exhausted, she had spent the entire day scheduling, organising and staring at the clock and finally it was time to leave.

She hadn't seen Damien all day since their last encounter. He hadn't come out of his office at all. She wondered if what Evan said had been true, if he hadn't been a present father.

What was she talking about? Why would she doubt Evan?

Mr cross was really messing with her head.

She packed her things and with one last glance at the big oak doors, took the elevator down and to the exit.

It was raining lightly and she sighed out of annoyance.

Her car was still at the workshop so, she had resorted to public transport these past few days.Her phone buzzed. Dan.

" At the hotel. Are you ready?!"

Lena huddled under her coat, her bag clutched tightly against her side as she looked down at the text and waited at the curb for a cab. No luck. Her car was still at the workshop and every ride on her phone's app seemed to be booked.

" On my way." She texted back.

She was filming another video tonight. A threesome.

And she knew—knew—that Damien would watch it.

And she hated how much that excited her.