Chapter 3

That [Wanna put that theory to the test?] from Oliver completely ruined my state of mind for the entire night.

In my dream, Oliver dragged me back by the ankle and spent the whole night putting me through every possible variation imaginable.

If I didn't believe so firmly in science, I would've suspected Oliver was a literal incubus, specializing in draining people dry.

I showed up at work with dark circles under my eyes and barely made it to my desk before my boss dragged me into a meeting.

Two hours in, I was fighting for my life, trying to stay awake.

My manager, Alan Noble, rambled on passionately at the front of the room. When he noticed me nodding off every few seconds, he said sarcastically, "Claire, thank you so much for the enthusiastic support."

My brain short-circuited, and I answered automatically, "You're welcome. Keep up the good work."

Alan's face darkened instantly, but thankfully, he finally ended the meeting.

My work bestie, Tracy Parkinson, immediately slid over beside me, eyes sparkling with gossip.

"What insanely hot muscle guy kept you up all night this time? And you didn't even share?"

That video probably wouldn't survive workplace HR policies.

"Don't ask. I got haunted."

I collapsed across my desk, feeling emotionally and spiritually drained.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Alan walking in with a group of people. The man leading them looked alarmingly familiar.

Oliver wore a perfectly tailored suit that screamed expensive. Every strand of hair looked carefully styled into place.

His gaze drifted lazily across the office, paused on my face for exactly one second, then moved on as if nothing had happened.

At least, it would've looked casual if not for the almost invisible smile at the corner of his mouth.

Damn it. Speak of the devil.

It was the middle of the day, and there he was.

Everything about Oliver radiated polished elite professionalism. He was courteous, restrained, and flawlessly mannered with everyone he spoke to.

And yet I still felt a terrible sense of danger creeping up my spine, enough to make me instinctively edge closer to Tracy.

After the introductions ended, he spoke, his voice low and smooth, while the words themselves nearly froze my blood solid.

"To improve communication efficiency, I'll need complete documentation for the Brookfield Enterprise acquisition case. I'd also appreciate a dedicated point of contact from your company...

"Claire. Long time no see."

Damn you, Oliver.

Alan's eyes lit up instantly as he waved me over.

"Right, of course! You and Claire went to school together, right? That makes things easy. Claire's more than capable of handling this."

Noticing I still hadn't moved, he pulled out his phone on the spot.

"Come on, Claire. Save Mr. Holden's number. From now on, if he needs anything, it goes straight to the top of your list."

I got shoved toward them and reluctantly opened the QR scanner on my phone.

Beep!

My screen instantly jumped straight into my old chat history with Oliver. My hand jerked violently, and I hurriedly flipped the phone facedown while forcing a polite smile.

Oliver lowered his eyes, catching every second of my reaction. A faint trace of amusement curved at the corner of his mouth.

"Looking forward to working with you again, Claire."