Page 40 of The CEO

I enjoy caring for them and nurturing them. They’re vulnerable, and they need me. Maybe that’s what I like about them: that they don’t care what else my hands have done, as long as they are cared for. I can only wonder if Eve will feel the same.

But even with my expert compartmentalization skills, the same fucking question keeps coming back to me over and over again. The same question I already know the answer to but am not willing to entertain:What happens if, after everything Eve learns, she still wants to destroy me?

Before I can force myself to eject that thought, Foster taps on the glass door of the greenhouse.

“Sir, we have a situation.”

“Situation?”

“It’s Miss Thorne, sir.”

My body goes tense. “Explain.”

“She’s at Knox Tower downtown. She arrived ten minutes ago requesting to see you urgently.”

“Ten minutes ago and I’m just now finding out?” I’m already following Foster down the hallway toward the main part of the house.

“She’s refusing to leave. Says she needs to speak to you. Says she has information you’ll want to see immediately.”

“Information regarding?”

“She wouldn’t specify.”

“Have a car bring her to Eden. We can discuss it here.”

“I already offered, sir. She, uh, she’s demanding to meet in your office downtown.”

“Demanding?” I pause, irritation quickly giving way to intrigue. “She’s making fucking demands now?”

“It would appear so.”

“Have her escorted to my office. We’ll take the helicopter.”

As I climb into the helicopter, I consider the implications of Eve’s unscheduled appearance. She’s clearly found something significant enough to risk another direct confrontation, but it feels as though this is a deliberate strategy to observe my reaction to information she knows is damning.

When I arrive at Knox Tower, Foster and I meet the head of security in the garage.

“She’s in your office. Security scanned her bag like usual. No obvious recording devices.”

“And her demeanor?”

“Calm.”

I nod, processing this information as we take my private elevator to my office. Excitement pulses through me, my body on high alert at her presence nearby.

“Should I accompany you into the office? We aren’t sure of the security implications?—”

“Security implications? Like the one I disarmed early this morning, Foster?” The elevator door opens to my private reception area. “This isn’t my first interrogation today.”

He falls silent, clearly recognizing the reference to Sullivan’s early morning questioning and the dismissal in my tone. I take a moment, straightening my tie and waiting for him to walk away, before stepping inside my office.

When I open the door, she’s standing at the window wall, silhouetted against Chicago’s afternoon skyline. Her back is to me and I take an extra few seconds to admire her before she notices me. She wears a simple black blouse tucked into tailored black pants, but that’s not what I notice most: It’s the delicate green scarf wrapped around her neck.

“Hello, Eve.”

She turns toward me, her expression composed. No fear this time, despite last night. Just quiet resolve, which is . . . concerning.

“This is an unexpected visit.” I close the door behind me before moving farther into my office.

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