Chapter 8: Fever in the Dark

The penthouse was silent, but the air felt heavy, charged with the kind of electricity that comes before a lightning strike.

It had been six hours since the DNA test. Six hours of agonizing waiting.

Maya paced the length of the guest bedroom. Leo and Mia were fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that their lives hung in the balance of a chemistry lab result.

Maya stopped in front of the mirror. She was still wearing her grey pencil skirt and white blouse, but she had unbuttoned the top button. Her hand went to her chest, pressing against the fabric. She could feel the hard, rectangular outline of the prototype chip hidden inside the lace of her bra, resting right against her skin.

It was burning her.

"I can't breathe," she whispered to herself.

She needed water. She needed air. She needed to escape the suffocating quiet of this room.

She opened the door and crept into the hallway. The penthouse was dim, lit only by the city lights filtering in through the massive glass walls. She made her way down the floating staircase, her bare feet silent on the cold marble.

She thought everyone was asleep. She was wrong.

A figure stood by the kitchen island, illuminated by the soft blue glow of the refrigerator water dispenser.

Julian.

He wasn't the polished CEO in the suit anymore. He had discarded his jacket and tie hours ago. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing a expanse of tanned skin and lean muscle. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing forearms that looked strong enough to crush stone.

He was holding a tumbler of amber liquid—whiskey—and staring out at the rain-slicked city.

Maya froze on the bottom step. She should turn back. She should run.

"You're awake," Julian said. He didn't turn around. He didn't need to. It was like he could sense her presence, a predator scenting its prey.

"Thirsty," Maya managed to choke out.

Julian turned slowly. The ice in his glass clinked. His eyes were dark, dilated, stripping away her defenses layer by layer. He tracked the movement of her throat as she swallowed.

"Come here," he commanded. His voice was low, a rough velvet rasp that vibrated in her bones.

Maya hesitated, then walked toward the island. She stopped a safe distance away—five feet.

"Closer," Julian murmured.

She took another step.

Julian set his glass down. He moved with deceptive speed, closing the distance between them in two long strides. Before Maya could react, he had caged her against the marble counter, his hands resting on the edge on either side of her hips.

He didn't touch her. He didn't have to. The heat radiating off his body was enough to make her knees weak.

"You're trembling," Julian noted, leaning down until his lips were hovering just above her ear. "Are you afraid of the test results, Maya? Or are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she lied, her breath hitching.

"Liar."

He moved his head, his nose grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. He inhaled deeply, shuddering as he took in her scent.

"Vanilla," he whispered against her skin. "And rain. You smell exactly the same as you did that night."

Maya gasped, her hands gripping the edge of the counter behind her to keep from falling. "Julian, stop. You’re engaged."

"Elena is a contract," Julian growled, his lips brushing against her jawline, sending shivers racing down her spine. "You... you are an obsession."

He lifted a hand, his rough fingertips tracing the line of her throat. "For five years, I have looked for you in every crowd. I have seen your face in every shadow. I hated you for stealing from me. I wanted to destroy you."

His hand moved lower, tracing the collar of her blouse.

"But now that you're here..." He paused, his blue eyes locking onto hers, burning with a mix of fury and desire. "Now that you're here, all I want to do is finish what we started."

Maya’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure it would bruise her ribs. The chip. Oh god, the chip.

His hand was inches away from where the stolen technology was hidden. If he moved his palm just two inches to the left, he would feel the hard plastic lump against her breast. He would find the theft. He would send her to prison.

"Julian," she breathed, panic mixing with the undeniable heat pooling in her stomach. "Please. The kids..."

"Are asleep," he cut her off.

He pressed his body flush against hers. He was hard, warm, and overwhelming. His thigh slotted between hers, the friction making her gasp.

"Tell me the truth, Maya," he demanded, his voice dropping to a seductive growl. "Tell me they are mine. Tell me you belong to me."

"I..." Maya’s head fell back as he kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear. Her resolve was crumbling. His mouth was hot, demanding, intoxicating.

His hand slid from her collarbone down to the curve of her breast.

Panic spiked through the haze of lust like an ice pick.

He’s going to feel it.

"No!" Maya cried out, shoving his chest with both hands.

The force of her push caught him off guard. Julian stumbled back a step, his eyes flashing with confusion and sudden anger.

"Don't," Maya panted, clutching her chest—specifically, the spot where the chip was hidden. "Don't touch me there."

Julian straightened up. The seduction vanished, replaced by the cold, calculating look of the CEO. He narrowed his eyes, staring at her hand clutching her blouse.

He saw the fear in her eyes. But he misinterpreted it.

"Why?" he asked softly, dangerously. "Is there someone else? Has another man touched you since me?"

Maya seized the lie. It was better than the truth.

"Yes," she lied, her voice shaking. "I... I have a boyfriend. He wouldn't like this."

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Julian’s jaw tightened. A muscle feathered in his cheek. Jealousy, dark and ugly, twisted his features.

"A boyfriend," he repeated, the word dripping with venom. "Where is he? Why isn't he here protecting you and his 'children'?"

"He's... away," Maya stammered. "On business."

Julian laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. He stepped back into her personal space, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him.

"Let me tell you something, Maya," he whispered, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. "I don't care about your boyfriend. When that DNA test comes back positive tomorrow... when I have proof that those children are mine..."

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers—a ghost of a kiss that promised ruin.

"...I will tear your little life apart until the only man left standing is me."

He released her abruptly.

"Go to bed," he commanded, turning his back on her to pour another drink. "Before I forget that I'm a gentleman."

Maya didn't wait. She turned and fled up the stairs, her hand still clutching the chip over her racing heart.

She had survived the encounter. But as she collapsed onto the bed upstairs, trembling from the lingering sensation of his touch, she realized the terrifying truth.

She hadn't pushed him away because she wanted to. She had pushed him away because if he had kissed her, she would have told him everything.