Chapter 2: Rising tension

Alex stood there, completely thrown.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, something had knocked him off balance—emotionally.

The woman who had crashed into him was standing far too close, her face caught in the soft hallway light. Waves of dark hair framed her striking features—but it was her eyes that froze him.

Wide. Fierce. Almond-shaped and burning with defiance. There was something about them that felt… familiar. Like a memory he couldn’t reach until this time.

She was beautiful, yes—but it was more than that. There was something in her that stirred a reaction he didn’t welcome.

His pulse kicked up, just slightly—but enough for him to notice. And to hate it.

He didn’t react to people. He controlled them indifferently. But now, he was caught off guard—and it pissed him off.

"What the hell?" The woman snapped, holding her nose with one hand. Her voice was tight with irritation. "Are you blind? Who just stands in the middle of a hallway like that?"

And just like that, the flicker of intrigue in him was gone. It was eplaced by the cold detachment he always leaned on.

Did she just yell at him?

He glanced down. Her phone was on the floor between them, the screen shattered beyond repair.

He didn’t say a word, just watched her. She was clearly furious, her small frame practically vibrating with it.

"Excuse me?" he said finally, voice low but sharp.

She didn’t even look at him. She crouched, picked up the broken phone, and pressed the button.

Nothing.

She shook it, let out a sharp breath through her nose.

"Great," she muttered, staring at the screen. Then she looked up again, eyes flashing with irritation. "Do you know how many double shifts I had to pull to afford this?"

Alex tilted his head, mildly amused. She had guts, at least.

"I can replace it with ten new ones," he said flatly, brushing it off like it was nothing.

Her mouth dropped open. "What did you just say?"

"Or twenty, if that’s what it takes," he replied with the same cold tone.

Her face twisted, caught between disbelief and fury. "Oh, I get it. Just throw money at the problem and pretend it never happened? That it?"

Most women would’ve melted at the idea of a man like him offering to buy them anything.

But not her.

His expression darkened slightly. He wasn’t used to being challenged like this.

"Careful," he said, voice now like ice. "You’re stepping into dangerous territory."

She didn’t blink. "You think I’m scared of you?"

He stepped forward.

Eve automatically stepped back, her breath hitching just slightly as his frame towered over her. His eyes bore into hers, unwavering.

"You should be," his voice dropped— almost like a teasing and seductive tone.

Her heart was pounding, but she didn’t budge. She tilted her chin instead, stubborn.

"Why? Because you’re rich? Because people bow when you speak?" She shook her head. "That doesn’t work on me."

Something flickered in Alex's eyes—amusement maybe.

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. "So what do you want for compensation, then?"

Her voice came fast. "An apology."

He blinked. "An apology?"

"Yeah. That thing normal people say when they crash into someone and ruin their stuff."

He stared at her for a beat, lips twitching—not quite a smile, but close.

"Why should I apologize? You ran into me first. Unless..." His eyes narrowed. "That was your way of getting my attention?"

Eve’s breath caught, but her glare only deepened.

He was too close—his voice, his presence, even his scent overwhelmed her senses. She leaned back slightly, brushing the wall behind her.

"You—" She started, but the words didn’t come.

His eyes dropped briefly to her lips, then lifted again to her face. That same challenge burned in his gaze as he leaned in, just slightly.

"Be careful what you wish for," he said softly.

Her breath stuttered again, but she forced herself to move. She stepped to the side briskly, brushing past him with narrowed eyes and a scowl.

"You’re unbelievable," she muttered and walked away.

Alex didn’t move. He watched her leave, her figure imprinted in his mind. No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had stood their ground.

She was different.

And that made her... interesting.

****

In the locker room, Eve tossed the broken phone into her bag, hands still shaking.

"Evie! You’re almost late," Kelly called from across the room. "Manager Dunne wants us to bring food and wine up to room 619."

"Okay, I’m coming," she said, rushing to change into her uniform. Her thoughts were still tangled in the hallway scene.

That man. That cold, arrogant—

She shoved the image of him away, fixed herself quickly and followed Kelly as she led the way down the hall.

But the memory clung to her. His voice. The way he looked at her like she was some kind of puzzle.

She barely made it through the door of room 619 before her eyes locked with someone across the room.

Her heart stopped.

It was him again!

He was sitting with two other men—but his piercing gaze snapped to her the moment she stepped in.

A slow tension crept into her chest.

She tightened her grip on the tray, forcing herself to breathe.

‘Stay calm. You need this job. Don’t let him get to you.’ she silently convinced herself.

Kelly gave her a quick look. "Be careful," she whispered.

Eve nodded, setting the tray down on the table with shaky hands. But as she placed the bowl of soup down, it wobbled.

And tipped.

Hot soup splashed across Alex’s white shirt.

A heavy silence dropped over the room right away.

Eve froze, her heart thudding wildly in nervousness.

“Oh my God—I’m so sorry!" she gasped, grabbing napkins. "It was an accident!"

She leaned forward to help, but his hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist—tight.

Her breath froze. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. His stare pinned her in place, icy and unflinching.

"Stop," he spat with a very dark expression.

She stilled, frozen.

"I..." Her voice broke. "I didn’t mean to—"

He shoved her off—the intensity was enough to make her staggered on her steps.

"Get lost," his eyes flicked away.

Eve stared at him, stunned. Her cheeks burned, and her hands trembled in anger.

"You arrogant—" she started, her voice shaking. "I said I was sorry!"

His expression didn’t change. Just blank—like she wasn’t even worth a response.

Her anger boiled over. "You’re truly unbelievable. No wonder you're miserable—you think money makes you untouchable, but it doesn't. You treat people like dirt and expect them to thank you for it!"

The air in the room thickened. Alex didn’t move, but something in his eyes shifted. A storm was raging inside him.

Eve didn’t wait. She turned, storming toward the door with Kelly rushing after her.

The door slammed behind them.

Inside, Luke blinked. "Did she just…?"

"Yell at Alex? Yup," Travis said, but his expression was amused.

This is the first time that someone dared to scold their bestfriend boldly. It seems like Alex had finally met his match.

Luke let out a low whistle. "She’s either brave… or suicidal."

But Travis wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was watching Alex—who hadn’t moved, but whose jaw was tight, eyes darker than before.

There was something simmering behind his calm. Not rage, exactly.

Something else.

Travis smirked. "Or maybe... this just got more interesting."

Alex’s hand moved slowly across his ruined shirt. Still silent and calm. But in his mind, one thought was clear.

She’s going to regret this.