Chapter 20: JEALOUSY BURNS.

Alan stepped inside.

His expression was calm at first. Just that lazy, calculated smirk he wore so well. But when his gaze fell on Blake—on how close he was standing to me something changed.

The smirk disappeared. His jaw ticked.

The air shifted, thickening with something sharp and dangerous.

Blake straightened, but he didn't step back. He didn't move at all, actually.

I jerked back, my breath catching in my throat. Blake's hands fell away, but the warmth of his touch lingered on my skin.

Alan stood at the entrance, his expression dull, but his eyes... they burned.

His gaze flicked between us, sharp and assessing, before settling on Blake. Something unsaid passed between them, thickening the air.

Blake, completely unfazed, simply leaned back against his desk, slipping his hands into his pockets as if nothing had happened.

"Am I interrupting?" Alan's voice was deceptively casual, but there was an edge to it—one that made my pulse stutter.

I forced myself to step back further, putting more space between me and Blake. "I-I was just-"

"Getting familiar with her new role," Blake finished smoothly, eyes locked on Alan. "I was showing her how things work around here."

Alan's jaw ticked. "Looked like you were showing her something else entirely."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Blake smirked, slow and knowing, and that only seemed to make Alan's grip on the doorframe tighten.

"I didn't realize you were so interested in my assistant's training," Blake drawled, his tone laced with amusement.

"I didn't realize you got this hands-on with your employees," Alan shot back, his voice cool but the underlying jealousy was impossible to miss.

My stomach twisted.

Blake chuckled, unbothered. "She's different."

Alan's gaze snapped to me then, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. His eyes, usually playful or unreadable, were something else entirely now—darker, sharper, filled with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I swallowed hard. "I should probably-"

"You should probably take a break," Alan cut in smoothly, his eyes still on me but his words clearly aimed at Blake. “I need to talk to my brother."

Blake didn't move, his little smirk lingering.

"I don't recall inviting you into my office, Alan."

Alan stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him.

"And I don't recall you needing an invitation to touch what doesn't belong to you."

The room tensed.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Blake's smirk vanished.

Alan's eyes flicked to me once more before returning to his brother.

"I'll be waiting outside," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Neither of them looked at me as I turned toward the door, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Just as I reached for the handle, I heard Blake's voice behind me.

"Stay."

I froze.

Alan exhaled sharply, like he was barely holding something in check.

But when I glanced over my shoulder, his eyes weren't on Blake anymore.

They were on me.

And the intensity in them nearly stole my breath.

"I think I should go," I said quickly, before either of them could stop me.

"So this is what you do now?" Alan's voice was deceptively calm after Samantha had left the room, but the undercurrent of anger was unmistakable. "You pick out a new employee and decide she's yours to toy with?"

Blake's smirk returned, lazy but sharp. "I don't toy with anything that belongs to me."

Something flickered in Alan's expression—something dark. "She's not yours."

Blake tilted his head. "Is that why you're so worked up?" His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Because you want her to be yours?"

Alan's jaw clenched. "That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Blake leaned back against his desk, completely unfazed. "You walked in here like you were ready to throw punches. Go ahead, Alan-make your argument."

Alan's hands curled into fists at his sides.

"You don't do this," Alan said lowly, voice like a warning. "You don't blur lines with employees. Or have you changed your rules?"

Blake's smirk deepened, he was enjoying this far too much. "I make the rules."

Alan exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. "She doesn't know what she's getting into with you."

Blake's eyes darkened slightly. "And you do?"

Alan's silence spoke volumes.

Blake's smirk widened. "Interesting."

Alan took another step closer, tension crackling in the air like electricity.

"You don't get to do this just because you're Blake Hawthorne," Alan murmured, voice dangerously low. "You don't get to claim someone just because you want them."

"Tell me, Alan... what exactly are you so angry about?"

Alan didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

The way his jaw tightened, the way his hands flexed—it was enough.

Blake chuckled softly, like he had just won some twisted game. "That's what I thought."

Alan inhaled slowly, like he was trying to steady himself. "Stay away from her."

Blake's smirk vanished.

For the first time since Alan walked in, he truly looked at him.

"I don't take orders." His voice was ice-cold. "And she's my employee. I can't stay away from her."

A long, charged silence stretched between them.

"You really can't help yourself, can you?"

Blake arched a brow. "You're in my office."

Alan took a step forward, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving his brother's. "And she was your caretaker." His voice was sharper now, laced with something dangerous. "So tell me, Blake... why the sudden change?"

Blake exhaled through his nose. "I don't need to explain myself to you. I employed her. I can promote her. I can fire her." His voice was rising now, a rare thing for Blake.

Alan let out a humorless laugh. "Right. Of course. Did you just want to promote her... or remove her from my reach entirely?"

Blake's eyes flashed. "It doesn't matter, She works for me."

Alan's expression turned cold. "Yeah? And why is that, brother?" His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "You've never needed an assistant before. Never wanted one. And now, suddenly, Samantha is sitting in your office, with you touching her face like she belongs to you."

Silence.

Thick. Heavy.

Blake didn't answer.

He didn't have to.

But one thing was clear.

Alan was jealous.

And Blake?

Blake was enjoying it.

For a second, neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.

Then Alan scoffed. "You're unbelievable."

Blake didn't say anything.

Alan took a step back, running a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. "You don't even want her, do you?" His voice was quiet now. Almost disbelieving. "You just don't want me to have her."

Blake's expression didn't change. But his silence was loud.

Alan shook his head. "You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" He let out a hollow laugh. "You don't even care about the game, you just want to win."

Blake finally spoke. "Then don't play, she's off limits."

Alan let out a breath. "Yeah? Well, I have been doing that. For weeks. Avoiding her. Just like you told me to." His voice cracked—just a little. Just enough.

Blake's gaze flickered.

Alan gave a bitter smile. "And now you want me to keep avoiding her?"

Blake's stare was unyielding. "You have plenty of girls fawning over you, Alan. Don't add Samantha to the list."

Alan stared at him, his jaw clenching.

Then without another word, he turned sharply and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Blake stood there for a moment.

Then he exhaled harshly, rubbing a hand over his face...

Alan stormed down the hall, his pulse a thunderous roar in his ears. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, but no matter how tightly he curled them, it didn't stop the anger surging through him.

Blake.

Blake and his fucking smirk. His smug, calculated way of twisting everything, of making it seem like Alan was the one out of control. Like Alan was the one crossing the line.

But Blake had drawn that damn line in the first place.

He had told Alan to stay away from Samantha. And Alan had.

For weeks.

But now Blake had changed the game. Promoting her. Keeping her close. Touching her like—

Alan exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. He needed to cool down before he did something reckless. Before he found himself storming back into that office and throwing a punch.

Because the worst part—the absolute fucking worst part was that Blake wasn't wrong.

Alan was jealous.

And Blake had seen it.

Felt it.

Fed off it.

"Asshole," Alan muttered under his breath as he reached his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Silence.

He exhaled, pacing, his muscles tight with barely contained frustration.

His mind kept circling back to Samantha. The way she had pulled back when he entered the office. The way her eyes darted between him and Blake, like she knew something was off.

Did she see it? Did she notice how he struggled to keep himself in check?

Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

Alan sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

He had spent weeks avoiding her. Pretending she was just an employee.

But that illusion shattered the moment he saw Blake standing too close. Touching her. Claiming her in his own silent, possessive way.

Alan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

So what now?

And with that thought, he turned and walked out.

No—stormed out.

His footsteps were heavy, his pulse roaring in his ears. He didn't stop moving, didn't care where he was going. He just needed out.

Away from the house.

Away from her.

But even as he stepped into his

car and sped off, fingers gripping the wheel like a lifeline, she was still there.

Samantha.

Her eyes.

Her lips.

The fact that those lips had been close to Blake's.

He slammed his foot on the gas.....

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