06

Eleanor

The next morning, the tension between Alexander and me felt like a living thing, heavy and unspoken. After last night, I wasn’t sure where we stood—or where we were supposed to stand. The kiss, the vulnerability in his eyes when I pulled away, and the way he’d walked out without a word all lingered in my mind like a haunting melody I couldn’t stop replaying.

I wasn’t used to feeling this unsettled, this... exposed.

“Get it together, Eleanor,” I muttered to myself as I stepped into the kitchen, determined to pretend like nothing had changed.

To my relief—and disappointment—Alexander wasn’t there. I found another note on the counter, written in the same sharp, precise handwriting.

Meet me in the car at 8:30. We’re attending a meeting with investors this morning. Dress appropriately. –A

I rolled my eyes at the tone. It wasn’t like I was planning to show up in sweatpants. Still, I couldn’t ignore the small flutter of nerves that accompanied the thought of spending more time with him.

By the time I joined Alexander in the car, he was already seated, engrossed in his phone. His tie was perfectly knotted, his suit unwrinkled, and his face a mask of calm control.

“Morning,” I said, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Good morning,” he replied without looking up. His tone was polite but distant, a stark contrast to the man who had kissed me so intensely just hours ago.

The drive to the meeting was quiet, save for the soft hum of the car engine. I found myself stealing glances at him, wondering if he was feeling the same awkwardness I was. But if he was, he hid it well.

The meeting took place in a high-rise office building downtown, in a sleek conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city. Alexander introduced me to a group of polished, intimidating investors, his hand resting lightly on my back as he spoke.

“This is my wife, Eleanor,” he said smoothly, and for a moment, I almost believed it was real.

The investors nodded politely, their gazes assessing me with the kind of scrutiny that made my skin crawl. I did my best to smile and look confident, even as I felt like I was being dissected.

As the meeting progressed, I stayed quiet, observing as Alexander commanded the room. He was in his element here, effortlessly persuasive and authoritative. It was fascinating to watch, and yet, it also reminded me of just how different we were.

“Eleanor,” one of the investors said suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What’s your perspective on this proposal?”

My stomach dropped. I wasn’t prepared for this—I wasn’t even sure what they were asking.

Before I could respond, Alexander’s voice cut through the tension. “Eleanor has a sharp eye for detail,” he said, his tone smooth and reassuring. “She’s been invaluable in helping me refine our approach.”

The investor nodded, seemingly satisfied, and I shot Alexander a grateful glance.

“Thank you,” I murmured to him later, as the meeting wrapped up.

He didn’t reply immediately, but his gaze softened slightly. “You handled yourself well.”

The ride back to the penthouse was just as quiet as the drive to the meeting. I felt drained, emotionally and mentally, and the silence between us only amplified my unease.

It wasn’t until we were back in the penthouse that Alexander finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“About last night,” he said, his voice careful and measured.

I froze, my pulse quickening. “What about it?”

“I crossed a line,” he admitted, his gaze steady but unreadable. “It won’t happen again.”

My heart sank, though I wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t I wanted the same thing? To keep things professional, to maintain the boundaries of our agreement?

“That’s probably for the best,” I said, forcing a smile.

He nodded, his expression giving nothing away. “Good. We’ll leave it at that.”

But as he turned to leave, I couldn’t stop myself. “Alexander.”

He paused, looking back at me with a question in his eyes.

“Why are you so determined to keep everyone at a distance?” I asked, my voice softer now.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he took a step closer, his gaze boring into mine.

“Because trust is a liability,” he said quietly. “And liabilities destroy everything they touch.”

The weight of his words hung between us, and I realized there was more pain behind them than he was willing to admit.

“Not everyone is out to hurt you, Alexander,” I said gently.

He looked at me for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to believe me. Then, without another word, he walked away.

That evening, I found myself in the study again, unable to shake the lingering tension from our conversation. The shelves of books felt like a metaphor for Alexander himself—carefully curated, polished on the surface, but full of stories I would probably never get to read.

I was running my fingers along the spines when his voice startled me.

“Do you always touch things that aren’t yours?”

I spun around to find him leaning against the doorframe, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. He looked more relaxed than usual, but there was still an edge to his gaze.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” I said, recovering quickly.

He stepped into the room, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re full of assumptions, Eleanor.”

I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or challenging me, but either way, my pulse quickened.

“And you’re full of secrets,” I countered, meeting his gaze head-on.

His lips twitched, as if he was amused, but there was something darker in his expression. “Some secrets are better left untouched.”

“Maybe,” I said, taking a step closer. “But sometimes, the truth has a way of coming out, whether you want it to or not.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The space between us felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said finally, his voice low.

“Maybe I like the danger,” I replied, surprising even myself.

He took another step toward me, his gaze never leaving mine. “Careful, Eleanor. You might not like what you find.”

“Or maybe I will,” I whispered.

The tension snapped, and before I could second-guess myself, I closed the distance between us. His lips met mine, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

This time, there was no hesitation, no restraint. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and I felt myself melt into him.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a battle, a surrender, and a declaration all at once.

When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my heart racing.

“We can’t keep doing this,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

“You’re right,” he said, but the look in his eyes told me he didn’t mean it.

Neither did I.