Chapter 219
Alexander’s arms encircled Evelyn from behind without warning.
His lips brushed the delicate skin of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
Gently, he lifted her wrists and pressed her against the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights twinkling below them.
Before she could react, he captured her lips in a searing kiss that left her dizzy.
Evelyn’s pulse skyrocketed as their mouths moved together, his touch both possessive and tender.
Alexander kissed like a man starved—fiery, demanding, yet achingly sweet.
His breath was warm against her skin as he murmured in that deep, intoxicating voice, "Mrs. Whitmore, shall we continue with the sunrise as our audience?"
He didn’t wait for an answer.
Evelyn gasped as his hands roamed, his touch igniting trails of fire across her body.
She had never expected such relentless passion from him.
By the time dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and pink, she was breathless, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.
Alexander finally relented, letting her collapse onto the plush bed.
Utterly spent, Evelyn curled into the sheets, craving nothing but the sweet oblivion of sleep.
The exhaustion finally released its grip around 4 PM, letting her slip into a shallow sleep.
When Evelyn's eyes fluttered open, the bedroom stood eerily silent.
Bare feet touched cold marble as she rose, scanning for her clothes. Her gaze landed on the ruined fabric scattered across the floor—the remnants of last night's emerald evening gown.
A flush crept up her neck as she recalled Alexander's impatience. The memory of his fingers fumbling with the stubborn zipper before giving up and tearing the delicate material sent shivers down her spine.
The plush bathrobe draped over the armchair tempted her, but the thin silk offered little modesty.
Her suitcase yielded better options. Fingers brushed against crisp cotton—one of Alexander's tailored dress shirts.
The fabric swallowed her frame, the hem barely skimming mid-thigh. Not ideal, but it would suffice until she found proper attire.
The full-length mirror revealed more leg than she'd prefer, but the buttons secured everything essential.
Taking a steadying breath, she turned the doorknob—
—and froze.
The expansive living room buzzed with activity. A dozen sharply dressed executives sat frozen mid-conversation, their expressions ranging from shock to poorly concealed amusement.
At the center of it all, Alexander barely glanced up from his financial reports, his pen continuing its steady scratch across paper.
Evelyn's fingers instinctively clutched the shirt's hem, her cheeks burning.
This wasn't how she'd imagined facing Titan Capital's board members.
Alexander was conducting a meeting in the penthouse suite?
The luxury hotel's soundproof walls had completely muffled the voices, leaving Evelyn oblivious to the gathering.
The senior executives of Titan Capital Group stared at her, their expressions shifting from professional composure to visible shock.
Rumors about Alexander's marriage had circulated through the corporate world, but none of them expected to find a woman in his private quarters.
While workplace affairs weren't uncommon among high-powered executives, Alexander had always been the exception—a man known for his unshakable discipline and zero tolerance for scandal.
Yet here she was.
The executives exchanged glances, their curiosity burning. What was it about Evelyn Carter that had breached Alexander Whitmore's famously impenetrable walls?
Given the recent whispers about her bold pursuit of him, it was clear she had left an undeniable impression.
Most men wouldn't refuse an attractive, determined woman who made her interest known—and apparently, even Alexander wasn't immune.
In mere seconds, the executives pieced together the implications of this unexpected scene.
Silently, they pitied Alexander's enigmatic wife.
Ethan Caldwell froze mid-sentence when Evelyn Carter walked in.
His face paled visibly, shock flashing across his features.
He knew Alexander Whitmore and Evelyn had separate suites for this business trip.
Yet here she stood, wearing one of Alexander's crisp dress shirts—clear evidence they'd shared more than just a meeting last night.
Ethan's jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached.
"So she actually stayed in his room all night?" The thought burned through him like acid.
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he wondered, "What kind of spell has she cast to make someone as controlled as Alexander Whitmore lose all restraint?"
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, the documents in his hand crumpling unnoticed.
Across the room, Evelyn adjusted the oversized cufflinks—Alexander's signature silver monogram glinting in the morning light.
The silent declaration made Ethan's stomach twist.
He'd underestimated her. Again.
And now Alexander Whitmore—the man even boardroom sharks feared—had clearly fallen under her influence.
Ethan forced his breathing to steady.
But the damage was done.
Everyone in the conference room had noticed.
The whispers had already begun.