Chapter 202

The final note of the cello lingered in the air before dissolving into silence. Evelyn ran her fingers along the smooth wood, her heart swelling with affection.

She adored it more than words could express.

Alexander smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Waking up at 4 AM to retrieve it from the airport was worth it, then."

Evelyn's breath caught.

That explained why his side of the bed had been empty when she woke.

He had gone himself—despite his relentless schedule—just to bring her the instrument.

Her cheeks warmed as she met his gaze. "Alexander... thank you."

His eyes darkened, tracing the flush on her skin. "Thank me?" His voice dropped, rough with promise. "I'll collect my gratitude properly tonight."

Her pulse stuttered.

The way he looked at her—like he could already taste her surrender—sent heat spiraling through her veins.

"You claimed you forgot last night," he murmured, stepping closer. "But I remember every detail." His thumb brushed her lower lip. "And I intend to remind you."

"I wouldn't mind helping you remember every detail."

Evelyn wasn't foolish—she caught Alexander's meaning instantly.

He wanted to jog her memory, but she...her face burned with embarrassment.

Just then, Simon's knock interrupted them. "Mr. Whitmore, your board meeting starts in five minutes."

Alexander hummed in acknowledgment before pulling Evelyn onto his lap, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck as he inhaled her familiar lavender scent.

Her pulse skyrocketed.

A tremble ran through her when his teeth grazed that spot below her ear—the one that always made her knees weak.

"I have business to attend to, Mrs. Whitmore," he murmured against her flushed skin. "Don't forget to miss me."

Evelyn sprang up, her heart pounding wildly.

She fanned her heated cheeks and trailed after him, exiting the office in his shadow.

The moment Alexander disappeared around the corner, Natalie pounced.

"Was that you playing violin earlier? It was breathtaking! Titan Capital won't be dead last at this year's gala after all!"

Natalie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she linked arms with Evelyn. "You've been holding out on us! When did you learn to play like that?"

Evelyn opened her mouth to respond when Victoria appeared, balancing three coffee cups. "Here—I brought reinforcements." She handed one to Evelyn with a knowing smile. "You'll need this after whatever just happened in there. The whole floor heard that concerto."

Cassandra joined them, fanning herself dramatically. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Mr. Whitmore was composing his own symphony with you as the lead instrument."

Evelyn nearly choked on her coffee as heat flooded her face again.

Natalie gasped, clutching Evelyn's arm. "Wait—does this mean you two finally—"

"Not another word," Evelyn warned, though her lips twitched.

The women dissolved into laughter just as Gregory rounded the corner, looking harried. "Ladies, unless you want me to report this little gathering to HR—"

"We're going!" they chorused, scattering back to their desks.

But Evelyn's fingers still tingled where Alexander had held them, and her neck still burned from his lips.

She touched the spot absently, a secret smile playing on her lips as she remembered his parting words.

As if she could ever forget to miss him.

Evelyn's fingers hesitated over the cello strings, producing a few off-key notes that made her wince.

Years had dulled her technique, but to an untrained ear, it still sounded passable.

With the annual gala just days away, she had enough time to polish her skills into something presentable.

Cassandra grinned, waving her phone. "I told my team we'd steal the show this year. My boyfriend didn't believe me—just sent him proof."

Last year, Natalie's painfully earnest poetry recitation had branded the CEO's office staff as talentless workaholics.

A betting pool had even sprung up in Titan Capital's internal chat, speculating whether this year's performance would be worse.

In the marketing department's lounge, Dominic Reeves absently stirred his coffee while tapping the video Cassandra had sent.

The rich, melancholic strains of a cello spilled from his speakers.

Near the hallway window, Ethan Caldwell froze mid-drag on his cigarette, the music snaring his attention like a hook.

"That tune... wasn't this what I heard when I was unconscious after his accident?" The realization struck him like lightning.

The haunting melody, the raw emotion—it clawed at a buried memory in the depths of his soul.

Ethan Caldwell stubbed out his cigarette so forcefully the ashtray rattled. He stormed into the lounge without hesitation.

Dominic Reeves nearly spilled his freshly poured coffee. "Mr. Caldwell?"

Without explanation, Ethan seized the younger man's phone. His knuckles turned white around the device.

"Where did you get this?" The demand came out sharper than intended.

"My girlfriend sent it. Said it's a performance piece for Titan Capital's annual gala—some junior executive in her department is playing it."

Ethan's gaze turned glacial. "Which department?"

"The Chairman's Office at Titan Capital."

A muscle twitched in Ethan's jaw. The pieces were falling into place with terrifying clarity.