Karen stood outside Alex's office, file in hand, heartbeat racing. She had barely slept the night before, not after that strange and possessive warning:
"Don't let Luca get too comfortable."
What did it even mean? And why did it matter to him?
She knocked softly. "Come in."
Alex didn't look up at first. He was seated behind his desk, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, forearms flexed as he scribbled on a document. The veins in his hand caught her attention. Everything about him was too sharp, too collected, too controlled, too perfect.
"Sir, here's the proposal you asked for."
He didn't answer. Just gestured for her to bring it forward.
Karen stepped closer. As she reached across the desk to hand him the file, her fingers brushed his.
A spark. No a jolt shot up her arm.
Alex's eyes snapped up to hers.
The moment stretched.
Then, in one sharp move, he stood up and rounded the desk. Karen instinctively took a step back, but he blocked her with one hand against the wall.
"You wear that perfume again," he murmured, voice low and close, "even after I told you not to."
"I didn't mean to," she whispered, trapped between his body and the wall.
"You don't take orders well, do you?"
His breath fanned against her skin.
She could feel the heat radiating off him, see the flicker of something dark in his eyes, something wild, something hungry.
Karen's chest rose and fell in quick succession.
"Do you always corner your staff like this?"
He smirked. "Only the ones who forget who's in control."
Their faces were inches apart now. Her back pressed into the wall. His hand slid up and hovered beside her jaw not touching, but close enough to make her skin burn.
Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back.
"Dismissed," he said coldly, straightening his cuffs.
Karen blinked, breathless. "That's it?"
He didn't respond.
She turned and walked out, legs shaky, heart thundering.
Back in the hallway, Luca leaned against the wall. He'd seen the whole thing.
And in his eyes something dark flickered too.