Chapter 168

Evelyn exhaled sharply through her nose.

Of course he would do this.

Alexander Whitmore lived for these moments—the verbal sparring, the unspoken challenges, the way her cheeks flushed when he cornered her with that silver tongue of his.

She reached for her cosmopolitan, the condensation cool against her fingertips. The pink liquid shimmered under the low lighting as she took a deliberate sip.

"Typical," she finally said, meeting his gaze head-on. "You'd argue semantics while the world burns."

Alexander's chuckle was rich and velvety, the sound wrapping around her like expensive silk. "Darling," he purred, "the world's been burning long before us."

His phone vibrated on the table. A glance at the screen showed a message from Simon Graves.

Evelyn noted the way his jaw tightened momentarily before the mask of amusement slipped back into place.

Interesting.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Problem at Horizon Enterprises?"

Alexander's fingers stilled on his glass. The briefest flicker of surprise crossed his face before he schooled his features.

"Now, Evelyn," he murmured, reaching across to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering just a heartbeat too long. "Where would the fun be if I told you everything?"

The air between them crackled.

Somewhere in the lounge, a glass shattered.

Neither of them flinched.

The game, it seemed, had only just begun.

Evelyn pressed her forehead against the polished oak door, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Whitmore, are you in there?"

Her mind raced. This doesn’t add up. Natalie went into his office and hasn’t come out yet.

Worry gnawed at her. If Alexander was reprimanding Natalie, she needed to intervene.

But silence greeted her.

Alexander’s gaze flickered to Natalie’s pale face, and a wicked smirk curled his lips. The urge to toy with her was irresistible.

"The door isn’t locked," he drawled, watching as Natalie stiffened.

Evelyn’s fingers hovered over the handle. "Should I just… open it?"

Natalie’s pulse skyrocketed.

Every sound amplified—the faint creak of the door, the whisper of Evelyn’s sleeve brushing against it.

Alexander’s grip on Natalie’s waist tightened, his lips grazing the curve of her neck. He reveled in the chaos he’d ignited within her.

The door swung open as Natalie stepped inside, and Evelyn's thoughts raced. Without hesitation, she seized the chair behind Alexander and shoved it backward with all her might.

Alexander, caught completely off guard, tumbled sideways with the chair.

Realizing he was about to hit the ground, he instinctively released Evelyn.

"Mr. Whitmore, what happened? Did the chair just collapse?"

As Alexander landed hard on the floor, a pang of guilt shot through Evelyn.

But she quickly schooled her expression, dropping to her knees beside him with feigned concern.

Her heart pounded wildly.

He won’t be too mad, right? I had no choice—he wouldn’t let go.

Alexander lay sprawled on the floor, one knee bent, his hand propping up his head. His gaze locked onto Evelyn’s, a dangerous glint of amusement mixed with irritation in his eyes.

His voice was deceptively light. "Strange, isn’t it? The chair just happened to tip over. Ms. Carter, aren’t you going to help me up?"

Evelyn swallowed hard under his scrutiny but forced herself to reach for his arm.

The moment her fingers brushed his sleeve, Alexander leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper.

The air in the office turned dangerously charged. "Darling, you've really done it this time," Alexander murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

Evelyn's stomach dropped.

Natalie, who had just stepped inside, froze in shock.

Mr. Whitmore—always so impeccably composed, the unshakable CEO who commanded respect with a single glance—just tumbled from his chair like a clumsy intern.

This can never leave this room.

Relieved to see Evelyn wasn't being reprimanded, Natalie quickly set down the files and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

The moment they were alone, Alexander rose with deliberate slowness, his presence overwhelming as he stalked toward Evelyn.

She retreated instinctively, her back hitting the wall. "Alexander, I—I didn’t mean to—"

His smirk deepened, eyes glinting with predatory intent.

One hand braced against the wall beside her head, the other snaking around her waist, he yanked her flush against him.

Evelyn gasped as his mouth crashed onto hers in a searing, possessive kiss.

He kissed her with bruising intensity, stealing her breath, leaving her dizzy.

Over his shoulder, the reflection in his glass liquor cabinet caught her eye—a fleeting glimpse of their entangled figures before Alexander’s grip tightened, pulling her deeper into the storm.

The reflection in the mirror showed Alexander's lips tracing fiery patterns along Evelyn's neck, each touch sending electric currents through her body. Her muscles tensed instinctively, responding to the intoxicating sensations.

"Mrs. Whitmore," Alexander murmured, his voice dripping with dark promise, "allow me to demonstrate the proper way to make amends."

Evelyn gasped as his calloused fingers skimmed down the delicate curve of her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.