Aliyah suddenly felt hot. She felt the tension between them thicken.
Why did he move closer..? she wondered. Her heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in her ears.
"I should go…" she began, turning away.
But Alexander reached out, gently catching her hand to stop her. His eyes on hers—in that moment, it seemed like they were the only two in the world.
"Why hide such beautiful hair in a ponytail?" he asked, reaching out and gently slipping off the band holding it back.
Aliyah's eyes widened in surprise as her hair dropped down her shoulders, some strands falling across her face.
Alexander leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against the softness of her skin as he tucked the strands behind her ear.
"We should keep it professional.. Mr. Sinclair," she said, her voice barely over a whisper.
Alexander's gaze darkened. His voice was low and dangerous. "What…? Do you think I'll do something to you..?"
A sharp knock broke the moment.
Before they could pull away, the door opened.
Imogen barged in with Alexander's personal assistant, Tant E, Lena behind her.
Aliyah felt odd.
Imogen's eyes flickered between Alexander and Aliyah, " Oh, Aliyah. Am I interrupting something?" she teased.
Aliyah's stomach dropped. Shit. Aliyah cursed inside.
Alexander glanced at Elena, then moved back to his seat.
His eyes scanned Imogen. "Do I know you?" he asked calmly.
Elena quickly stepped in. "Mr. Sinclair, this is Imogen Vale. She wanted to personally introduce herself…"
Before she could finish, the office door opened again.
Damon Sinclair walked in with a board member and Mr. Blake, Aliyah's supervisor.
Imogen turned with charm. "Mr. Sinclair, it's so good to see you. You're hardly ever around," she said brightly, as if greeting an old friend.
Damon chuckled, his voice warm. "Miss Vale, still as radiant as ever.
The company made the right choice, making you our face," he said with a smile. "You've met my son, Alexander. Our COO. I have a feeling you two will get along quite well," he glanced at Alexander, who wasn't paying attention to either of them.
Imogen smiled and nodded—just what she'd like to hear.
Shifting uncomfortably, Aliyah was suddenly aware of how out of place she felt.
What am I even doing here? She wondered, her eyes scanning the room for a quiet way to slip out.
Just in time, Blake gave her a sign with his head to leave. She noticed Alexander's last glance before she silently stepped out of the office.
The remaining hours of the day, Aliyah spent them at her desk.
Her mind circling back to Alexander, how he made her feel—the tension, the heat between them. But Imogen's face stood out in her mind, the comment she made.
"Oh, Aliyah. Am I interrupting something?"
It made her feel awkward, especially with the fact that Imogen had just told her a few days back about how she wanted Alexander.
Why do I feel like I'm the one who did something wrong? He was the one who made a move on me…
She scoffed to herself. I wonder why he even did it. She knew Imogen would ask her questions later in the day—questions she didn't know how to answer.
The day finally ended.
Aliyah stepped out, doing her best to avoid any interaction with Imogen or Alexander, but still failed.
"Miss Archer," Elena called from behind her. "Mr. Sinclair informed me about your car. Would you prefer cash or a transfer?"
That rich bastard, Aliyah muttered in her head.
"I told him to forget about it," she answered flatly.
"He insisted on a settlement, Miss Archer."
Aliyah scoffed. "Does he flirt with every woman?"
Elena blinked. "Excuse me?"
Aliyah bit her tongue, regretting those words. "Cash is fine," she said almost with sarcasm.
Without a word, Elena reached into her sleek leather bag and handed over a small envelope. Aliyah's eyes caught the Birkin logo before she snatched the envelope and walked off.
Lucky bitch… she thought.
She got home some minutes after seven. After washing up, a light dinner, she made her usual call to check in on her father.
His voice, though weak, gave her a small sense of peace. Once they hung up, she finally settled into bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her favorite playlist of slow tunes drifted softly through the room.
The envelope Elena gave her earlier was just a reach beside her, so she picked it up and checked.
What…? Her heart dropped the moment she saw the cash inside. Crisp bills, neatly stacked—way more than the car repair was worth.
She sat up, her grip tightening. Why would he give me this much?
Her phone buzzed beside her. An unknown number.
She hesitated, then swiped to answer.
"Hello?"
There was a pause—then a voice she didn't expect.
"Miss Archer. It's Alexander Sinclair."
She sat up slowly, catching her breath. His voice was low and deep. It burnt her with some kind of pleasure.
"…Hi," she managed to say.
"I just wanted to confirm you received your settlement money. I'm sorry it's coming late," he said.
She took a deep breath before speaking.
"Was that some sort of payoff?" Her tone was sharp.
"Why would you give me that much money? Even after I told you I didn't need it?"
There was a beat of silence.
"Mr. Sinclair, I don't know what this is, but whatever you're trying. I'm not interested." She added.
"I am, though," his voice dropped even lower. "Why am I?" he asked her.
Aliyah felt a tightness in her chest. Interest? In her? Someone like him?
She'd spent her life being overlooked, especially by the people at Étoile. Whatever this was, it didn't make sense. And that made it harder to ignore.
"Don't wear your hair in a ponytail again," he continued. "Keep it down." It didn't sound like a suggestion—it was a command.
Then the line went dead.
All her life, people like Imogen assumed she was into soft-spoken, harmless men—nerdy, gentle types with no real edge.
But they were wrong.
She liked power. Authority. The kind of man who didn't ask, but told.
The kind that made her feel small… and wanted.
She just never admitted it before.