After My Ex Cheated, I Choose His Billionaire Brother

Chapter 4: Under the Table

Two days.

That was how long I managed to convince myself that I could successfully hide from Alexander Thorne. Two days of avoiding the main campus, skipping my usual coffee shop, and jumping at every shadow.

But hiding from a man who practically owned the city was an exercise in futility. I realized that when I received an email from the university's career center, informing me that the prestigious Thorne Empire summer internship—the one I had applied for months ago, long before Julian and I broke up—required an immediate, mandatory "final round" interview at their corporate headquarters.

I couldn't say no. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, the kind of internship that guaranteed a high-paying job upon graduation. And surely, Alexander Thorne, the CEO of a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, wouldn't be personally conducting interviews for college interns.

I was wrong.

When I was escorted into the sprawling, glass-walled executive dining room on the top floor of the Thorne building, the first person I saw wasn't a friendly HR representative.

It was Alexander.

He sat at the head of a long mahogany table, looking dangerously handsome in a tailored navy suit. And sitting to his right, looking just as shocked to see me, was Julian.

My feet glued themselves to the plush carpet.

"Ah, Miss Evans," Alexander said, his deep voice cutting through the silence of the room like a physical blow. He gestured to the empty chair directly to his left. "Please, join us. I prefer to conduct these final assessments over lunch."

Julian stared at me, his jaw clenched tight. "What is she doing here, Alex? I thought you said we were having a private brothers' lunch."

"We are," Alexander replied smoothly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on me. "But Miss Evans is our top candidate for the new internship program. I thought it would be efficient to combine the two. Isn't that right, Chloe?"

The way he said my name—a soft, intimate caress wrapped in sharp velvet—sent a violent shiver down my spine. I forced myself to walk forward, my heels sinking into the carpet, and took the seat beside him. The table was large, but Alexander felt entirely too close. The familiar, intoxicating scent of bergamot washed over me, instantly making my head spin.

"It's a pleasure to be here, Mr. Thorne," I managed to say, keeping my voice professional, even as my hands trembled in my lap.

"Please," he murmured, leaning slightly toward me. "Call me Alexander."

Across the table, Julian scoffed, aggressively stabbing a piece of asparagus on his plate. "This is ridiculous. She's not qualified for a position here. She's an art history major, for God's sake."

"Actually," Alexander corrected, his gaze never leaving my face, "she has a minor in business administration and her analytical scores were the highest in the applicant pool. Unlike some people who rely solely on their last name to secure a position in this company."

The thinly veiled insult hung heavily in the air. Julian's face flushed dark red, but he didn't dare argue back. It was painfully obvious who held all the power in the Thorne family.

Lunch was served by silent, efficient waitstaff. I picked at my seared salmon, my appetite completely nonexistent. The tension at the table was suffocating. Julian kept shooting me glaring looks, clearly furious that I had intruded on his territory, while Alexander...

Alexander was doing something entirely different.

While engaging Julian in a dry conversation about quarterly projections, Alexander casually draped his arm over the back of his chair. It seemed innocent enough, until I felt the solid warmth of his body shift closer to mine.

Under the cover of the long, heavy linen tablecloth, something brushed against my knee.

I flinched, instinctively pulling my leg back. Across the table, Julian stopped talking mid-sentence.

"Are you alright, Chloe?" Julian asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "You seem jumpy."

"I'm fine," I said quickly, taking a sip of water.

Before I could set the glass down, a large, warm hand settled firmly on my bare thigh, just above the hem of my pencil skirt.

I gasped softly, nearly dropping the glass.

Alexander didn't miss a beat. He continued to stare at his brother, his expression completely impassive, his voice steady as he discussed profit margins. But under the table, his long fingers began to slowly, deliberately stroke the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

A jolt of pure, electrifying heat shot straight to my core. I clamped my knees together, trying to trap his hand, but he was far too strong. His fingers easily pried my legs apart, his palm pressing possessively against my thigh.

"The Asian markets are showing a slight decline," Alexander said smoothly to Julian. "We need to re-evaluate our strategy for the next quarter."

God. He was talking about international business strategy while his thumb traced a tortuously slow circle on my skin, inching dangerously high.

I couldn't breathe. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, a chaotic, frantic rhythm that I was certain everyone in the room could hear. I stared fixedly at my plate, my face burning with a furious blush.

Julian, oblivious to the war happening beneath the table, suddenly leaned forward. "Look, Alex, I know we had a disagreement the other day," he said, shooting a pointed look at me. "But Chloe and I... we're working things out. Right, babe?"

Under the table, Alexander's hand suddenly gripped my thigh with bruising force. The pain was sharp, but the possessive anger behind it was infinitely more terrifying.

I let out a soft gasp, drawing Julian's confused stare.

"Working things out?" Alexander repeated, his voice dropping an octave, turning dark and lethal. He finally turned his head to look at me, his obsidian eyes burning with a possessive fire that terrified and thrilled me in equal measure. "Is that true, Chloe?"

His thumb brushed against the very edge of my lace underwear.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. The contrast between his polite, professional tone and the incredibly intimate, dominating touch under the table was driving me insane.

"No," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling. I forced myself to look at Julian. "We are not working anything out, Julian. We are done."

Julian slammed his hand on the table, rattling the silverware. "Stop lying to yourself, Chloe! You know you're just trying to make me jealous by showing up here."

Before I could respond, Alexander moved.

His hand slid higher, his fingers slipping beneath the edge of my underwear to brush against the sensitive, aching center of my body.

A sharp, unmistakable moan tore from my lips before I could stop it.

Julian stopped ranting, staring at me in shock. "What is wrong with you?"

Alexander slowly withdrew his hand from beneath the table, picking up his napkin and casually wiping his fingers. His eyes, dark and heavy with a terrifying promise, locked onto mine.

"I believe," Alexander said softly, his voice echoing in the sudden silence of the room, "that Miss Evans has made her position perfectly clear, Julian. And as for her future here..."

He smiled, a dark, predatory curve of his lips that sent a violent shiver down my spine.

"...I'll be handling her internship personally."