Page 66 of The CEO

Her chin lifts in defiance despite her obvious fear. “I was careful.”

A harsh laugh escapes me. “Careful? I spotted you within minutes. If I could sense your presence, others could have as well. If Foster had found you instead of me, you’d be in that chair right now.” I nod toward the metal chair in the center of the room, the implications clear.

“But he didn’t,” she counters, her voice steady despite the slight tremble in her hands. “You did.”

“Yes, I did.” I step closer—close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body despite her wet clothes. “Because I know your scent, Eve. I would recognize it anywhere.”

Confusion flickers across her face. “My scent?”

“Jasmine. Vanilla. Something uniquely you.” I tug her forward, running my nose up her neck with a deep inhale. “I caught it the moment I stepped outside. I knew you were there without seeing you.”

She swallows hard, processing this information and likely cataloging it alongside everything else she’s learned about me. “You’re telling me you smelled me? That’s how you knew?”

“I’m telling you that I’m aware of you on a level you can’t comprehend,” I growl, moving closer still. “And right now, I’m trying to decide what to do with you after the risk you’ve taken. The danger you’ve put yourself in. The exposure you’ve created.”

Her eyes drop to my shirt—to the blood visible through the wet fabric. “I saw what you did to that man.”

“No, you didn’t,” I correct her. “You saw a fraction of what I’m capable of. A glimpse of what happens to people who cross me. What should happen to you right now.”

Instead of cowering, she meets my gaze directly. “Then why am I still breathing, Damien? If I’m such a liability, why drag me in here instead of disposing of me in that alley?”

The question hits harder than she knows. It’s the same one I’ve been asking myself since I caught her scent. The sensible course of action—the one I would take with anyone else—would be immediate elimination. She’s seen too much, knows too much, represents too great a risk.

Yet here she stands, alive and defiant, because I cannot bring myself to harm her.

“You know why,” I say, my voice dropping lower. “You’ve known since the moment we met.”

Her breath catches, pupils dilating despite her attempt to maintain composure. “You want me.”

“I want you,” I confirm, stepping even closer, forcing her back against the desk. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you. That want has become an obsession I can no longer control. But it’s more than that, Eve, and you’re playing with fucking fire by following me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just tell me what all this is—what it means!” she shouts back at me, gesturing wildly. “You keep taunting me with information knowing that I’m going to keep digging, and then you do this.”

“This,” I shout, “is protecting you! You have no idea the shit you’re dealing with, Eve, and you need to learn some goddamn obedience or you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Obedience?” She rolls her eyes and I dart my hand out to grasp her throat.

“Yes. You’re behaving like a reckless brat, and if I have to burn this fucking city to the ground to protect you, I will, but you’re testing my fucking limits with this bullshit!” I squeeze her throat so tightly, she reaches up to grab at my fingers.

Lightning flashes outside, briefly illuminating the small office through its single grimy window. In that flash of light, I see something shift in Eve’s expression—fear giving way to something darker, more primal. Her pulse visibly quickens at the base of her throat.

“Fuck.” I release her, stepping back. She stumbles slightly, taking in a long, deep breath. She stares at me, her eyes locked on mine.

“You’re covered in another man’s blood,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “You just tortured someone. I should be terrified.”

“But you’re not.” I recognize the look in her eyes now—it’s hunger, mirroring my own. “You’re excited.”

She doesn’t deny it—doesn’t try to maintain the pretense of moral outrage. Instead, she asks, “What are you going to do about it?”

The question ignites something in me—something I’ve kept leashed since I first recognized her in the forest preserve. Without warning, I grab her throat, pushing her back onto the desk with enough force to scatter the few items on its surface.

“I’m going to make sure you understand exactly what happens when you play with fire,” I growl, my face inches from hers, my hand tight enough around her throat to restrict her breathing without cutting it off completely. “You want to see the monster? Here he is.”

Her hands come up to grip my wrist—not to pull me away this time, but to steady herself as her hips shift beneath me. “Show me.”

“Don’t ask for things you aren’t prepared to take.”

The invitation shatters the last of my restraint. My mouth crashes down on hers, the kiss nothing like our previous encounters—this is raw, violent, punishing. Her lips part immediately, her tongue meeting mine with equal fervor. I taste blood—hers or mine, I’m not sure—and the metallic tang only fuels the hunger burning through me.

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