Evelyn
Alexander stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped loosely around his neck, dark hair damp and slightly tousled from the shower. He looked effortlessly handsome with sharp jawline, broad shoulders, that same unreadable expression he always wore. But this time, there was something quieter in his eyes. Less storm, more stillness.
I sat up straighter on the bed,
"What are you doing in my room?" I asked,
He looked clearly unimpressed. "It's my room too."
"Wait what? Why would you book one room?"
He sighed, walking over to the side table and grabbing a bottle of water. "Because I'm not interested in giving the media another chance to turn our lives into some PR circus. Separate rooms would've raised more questions than I want to deal with."
I processed that, and it made sense. Unfortunately.
"Fine," I said. "Then where do I sleep?"
"On the bed."
I stared at him.
He added, "I'll take the couch."
I didn't argue. After all, it was a massive king-size bed .
After unpacking my things and brushing my hair, I slid under the covers and turned off the lamp beside me. The sheets were crisp and warm.
Alexander sat on the couch by the window, papers spread out in front of him, reading glasses perched low on his nose as he worked under the warm glow of a standing lamp.
He looked peaceful.
And very out of place in this quiet moment,
I watched him for a few moments in silence, then spoke.
"Do you always work this late?"
He looked up. "Most nights."
"Even on trips?"
"Especially on trips."
"Do you even sleep?"
He smirked. "When I have time."
I thought for a moment, then asked, "What did you want to be when you were younger?"
He blinked, "I don't know. I never thought about it."
"My life was structured. There wasn't room for dreams."
I chewed my lip, then looked at him again. "That's kind of sad."
" What are your plans after graduation" He looked back at me,
" I've applied for a small job at a start up. I'll start right after the semester ends. I want to save enough money to open my own bakery someday. I love baking. Cookies, tarts, cupcakes all of it."
He didn't say anything at first, and I thought maybe he wasn't impressed.
But then his lips curved just slightly.
"A bakery," he said. "That suits you."
"Really?"
"You're stubborn, messy, and surprisingly patient, you'd probably run a very chaotic, very successful bakery."
I laughed, hiding my smile behind the blanket.
And for a moment, in that hotel room he felt like a normal regular and not a billionaire CEO.
Alexander
She fell asleep mid-conversation.
One second she was asking me if I ever ate raw cookie dough, and the next her voice trailed off into a quiet hum, her eyes fluttering closed like she couldn't fight it any longer.
I finished the last of my paperwork and shut the file slowly, trying not to make a sound.
She was curled up on her side now, hugging the pillow. Hair messy, a soft breath parting her lips.
Damn it.
I loosened my collar and walked over to the minibar, poured myself a drink, and sat down in the armchair across from the bed.
Glass in hand, I just watched her.
She looked so peaceful.
So far removed from the sharp-tongued firecracker I usually dealt with. The one who argued with me about clothes and barked back when I got too controlling. Now she was just a girl, sleeping soundly, breathing softly.
And yet here I was. Sitting here in the dark, thinking thoughts I shouldn't.
She asked such innocent questions tonight. Like someone who still believed in comfort and cookies and small dreams.
And all I could think about was how her lips looked when she spoke.
How her voice dipped low when she was sleepy.
How her body moved under the blanket.
God, what the hell is wrong with me?
She's young. She's been through enough.
And here I am, thirty years old, with a mind full of dirty thoughts about a girl who trusted me enough to fall asleep within arm's reach.
What kind of man does that make me?
I downed the rest of the drink in one long sip and leaned back in the chair, still watching her like an idiot.
She was something I couldn't even define.
And I was an asshole.
Because I wanted her.
Too much. Too deeply.
And I didn't know how to stop.
Evelyn
I woke up to the soft sound of papers being moved and the faint scent of cologne.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Alexander, already dressed in a charcoal suit, white shirt perfectly ironed, dark tie knotted to perfection. Hair neatly styled, watch strapped on, face unreadable as always.
A depressing start to the morning, honestly.
"Good morning," I mumbled, voice scratchy from sleep.
He glanced over and nodded, then said, "Freshen up. Breakfast is in the next room."
Right. Back to CEO mode.
I sat up, brushing hair out of my face. "Are you going to work the whole day?"
"I have some meetings lined up," he said, buttoning his cufflinks. "But I should be free by evening."
I hesitated, then asked, "Could we go to the beach? I saw it from the car last night. It looked really pretty at sunset."
He didn't answer right away.
Then he said, "You can go. I'll ask Dmitri to drive you."
I blinked, caught off guard. That wasn't what I asked.
I wanted him to go with me.
But I swallowed the disappointment, burying it under a soft smile. "Okay."
Because what else was I supposed to say?
That it kind of stung to hear he'd send someone else instead of coming with me?
That for a moment, I actually thought he might want to do something normal? Just us?
He didn't notice my expression shift . He simply checked the time, grabbed his tablet, and told me again to eat breakfast before leaving the room.
And I just sat there on the bed, looking out the hotel window at the city below, wondering why I still let myself feel disappointed.
Maybe it was stupid.
But somewhere deep down I still wanted him to choose me. Even for something as small as a walk on the beach.
It was almost sunset when Dmitri knocked softly on my door.
"Ma'am, I'm here to escort you to the beach, if you're still interested."
I was lying on the bed, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, For a moment, I almost told him no. That I changed my mind.
But then something in me shifted.
No. I would go.
"Give me ten minutes," I said, rising from the bed.
Inside my luggage were all the clothes Alexander had gotten for me most of which I hadn't dared to wear yet. Some were too flashy, too expensive too adult. I brought everything for a just in case occasion. But today , I reached for the one dress I'd been ignoring from the start.
It was a short, sleeveless frock in deep ocean blue, soft fabric that hugged my waist and flared just above the knees. Tasteful, but undeniably bold. The neckline dipped just enough to make me second-guess myself and then I decide I didn't care.
If Alexander wanted to treat me like I didn't exist, fine.
But he'd at least see what he was missing.
I did my makeup light just a little blush, a little gloss and slipped on a pair of sandals. When I stepped into the hallway, Dmitri's eyebrows raised a fraction,
He nodded approvingly. "You look lovely, ma'am."
"Thank you," I said, lifting my chin.
We headed down the elevator, and just as we passed the lounge on the way out, I saw him.
Alexander.
He stood by the bar, talking to someone I didn't recognize, a glass of something in his hand. His voice trailed off mid-sentence as he caught sight of me.
Dmitri gave him a brief nod. Alexander didn't return it. He didn't even blink.
His gaze locked on me sharp, unwavering, almost stunned.
I won't deny that I liked that look on his face.
I didn't say anything. Neither did he.
But I saw the way his jaw tightened, how his eyes moved slowly over me.
I looked him right in the eye. Smiled.
And then walked right past him.