Chapter 115

Evelyn's entire body went rigid. Without thinking, she threw her arms around Alexander's waist and shoved him backward, trying to shield him from the sudden attack.

Alexander stumbled from the force of her push, landing hard on the sofa behind him.

As Evelyn pressed against his chest, she could feel the solid warmth of his body beneath her, his muscles tense with readiness.

The drunken assailant missed his first strike but recovered quickly, raising the dagger again with a snarl.

Alexander's gaze locked with Evelyn's for a split second before he abruptly pushed her aside and stepped in front of her.

Before anyone could react, Alexander's foot lashed out in a sharp kick, striking the man's wrist with brutal precision.

The dagger clattered to the floor, its silver blade glinting ominously under the dim lights of Eclipse Lounge.

The attacker's expression twisted in rage. Undeterred, he swung the bottle in his other hand straight at Alexander's head.

Alexander saw the drunk's lunge coming before it happened. His body moved instinctively, his polished leather shoe connecting with the man's temple in a perfect arc. The bottle slipped from the drunk's fingers, shattering against the floor in a spray of glass.

For a brief, suspended moment, the man swayed.

His arms flailed wildly, grasping at nothing but air. Then, with a heavy thud, he crashed onto the hardwood, his body sprawled out in an ungainly heap. A groan escaped him, his face twisted in pain and fury. That had to hurt.

The entire bar froze.

Whispers about Alexander's decade-long training at the police academy had always floated around, but no one expected him to move like that.

Even with the drunk wielding a weapon, Alexander had taken him down effortlessly. His composure never wavered—not a single hair out of place, not a single breath too quick.

That kick had been straight out of an action movie. Flawless.

And he had done it in a tailored suit and dress shoes.

If he had been in something looser, something meant for movement—just how much more dangerous would he be?

The music cut off abruptly as the commotion registered. The manager of Eclipse Lounge rushed over, flanked by security, ready to haul the drunk away before things escalated further.

Alexander advanced, his polished shoe pressing down on the drunkard's face with deliberate force. "Who paid you to come here?" His voice was ice.

The man beneath him trembled, eyes squeezed shut in terror. Under the crushing weight, drool and mucus smeared across the floor. "Alexander Whitmore," he choked out, "you'll burn for this!"

With chilling calm, Alexander crouched lower, fingers closing around the man's throat.

"I may or may not burn," he murmured, lips curling into a smile that held no warmth. "But I can guarantee you'll get there first."

He released him with a flick of disgust, wiping his hand clean with a handkerchief as if touching filth.

"Restrain him," Alexander ordered without turning. "Deliver him to the authorities."

Evelyn had never witnessed this side of him before. By the time she processed what had happened, the staff had already erased all traces of the altercation.

Music swelled again, the scene seamlessly restored as though nothing had occurred.

Alexander lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around his sharp features as his gaze locked onto Evelyn.

"Ms. Carter," he drawled, exhaling slowly. "You saved me. Tell me—what do you desire in return?"

Alexander's fingers drummed lightly against the leather armrest, the rhythmic tapping barely audible over the crackle of burning tobacco. A haze of smoke curled around him, veiling his sharp features in a mist of gray. Yet, despite the obscurity, Evelyn couldn't shake the magnetic pull of his presence.

She hadn’t saved him.

It had been pure instinct—a reflexive shove, nothing more.

His survival had been his own doing—quick reflexes, honed instincts.

Still, her mind raced. Who would dare target Alexander Whitmore?

Had he crossed someone powerful without realizing it?

But this wasn’t just a warning. The drunk had moved with lethal intent.

Alexander exhaled slowly, the smoke swirling between them. His gaze flickered to her, a silent question lingering in the depths of his piercing eyes. He didn’t press, didn’t speak. Instead, he took another deliberate drag, waiting.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension.

Evelyn swallowed.

What did he want from her?