The sin of wanting my sister's fiance

Sara's Pov "Martins, remove those pair of eyes distracting me." Kol’s cold voice snapped me out of my thoughts, making me realize I had been staring at him for too long. Kol Hart, the new CEO of the fashion company I work in, and also the man I had loved and lost three years ago. Before I could find my voice to speak, Martins—his personal assistant—locked eyes with me. He walked over, coming to my seat. "Miss Sara, you need to leave the room quietly," Martins said. "Please," I whispered, my voice trembling as I leaned back. "I’ve worked for weeks on these designs. Just let me stay for the presentation." My pleading caused a stir. The people sitting near me began to whisper, distracted by the scene I was making. Kol stood up abruptly, the sound of his chair scraping the floor silencing the room. "To my office," he said. There was no doubt he was talking to me. Just like that, our first official meeting with him ended. He walked out without another word, with Martins behind him. As the other employees filed out, they glanced at me with judgment. My manager, Brenda, stepped toward me, her eyes narrowing. "You’re a liability, Sara," she said, her voice low and sharp. "I don’t know what your goal was today, but consider your career here on life support. My office, the moment he is done with you." I took a deep breath, sighed, and walked toward the CEO's office. I knocked once and entered. Kol was sitting behind his desk, perfectly balanced in his chair. The air in the office felt different—thicker, charged with the scent of his cologne and the memories of us. He had become someone formidable, a man who owned every inch of the space he occupied. I stood there, paralyzed by the realization that my feelings hadn't faded; they had just been waiting for him to return. Seeing the maturity in his face and the coldness in his eyes didn't repel me; it only made me more certain that I was still drawn to him. "It seems you have a habit of staring at people intensely," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "Do you look at other people like this, or just me?" I opened my mouth to respond, but the words stayed in my throat. His blue eyes met with mine, the exact same shade as the eyes of Hope, our daughter. "Do I have anything on my face?" he asked. He stood up and walked toward me. He stopped inches away, bending down to my height to look directly into my eyes. "I don't care what you think you see when you look at me," Kol said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. He leaned back, the sudden distance feeling colder than his proximity. "But I suggest you find a way to control your expressions if you want to keep your position. I don't hire people for their sentiment. I hire them for results." I stood there, my muscles rigid, as he went back to his seat. I wanted to ask him how he could look at me and feel nothing. I wanted to ask if the memory of my touch was truly gone, or if he was just this good at lying. But his eyes were like glass—clear, beautiful, and completely empty of recognition. "Go back to your desk," he added, looking down at the papers on his desk as if I had already vanished. "Don't make me repeat myself." I didn't say a word. I turned and walked out, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. I didn't look back. The moment I reached my desk, Brenda was already there. She didn't wait for me to sit down before she slammed her hand onto the table. "Don't you dare sit down. First of all, you were late this morning, and because of your carelessness, we missed the meeting with the Miller Group," she hissed, her face turning a blotchy red. "That was a massive account. If you want to keep your job, you're going to fix this tonight." "Tonight?" I asked, my voice flat. "Yes. I will send you his location before dusk. You'll meet him there, get him to sign the contract, or don't bother coming in tomorrow morning." Two hours later, I stood in the middle of the crowded club. Who does a meeting in a club? How is our communication supposed to go on? The music was so loud it vibrated in my chest. I felt embarrassed wearing a workcloth here, clutching the contract folder to my chest like a shield. I found Mr. Miller in a dark corner, but he wasn't interested in the papers. When I tried to explain the designs, he reached out, his hand sliding firmly onto my thigh. "Forget the work, Sara," he slurred, pulling me closer. "Let's talk about you." I tried to pull away, my heart hammering against my ribs, when a hand suddenly gripped his wrist. The pressure was so intense that he cried out, releasing me instantly. I looked up. Kol was standing there, his expression murderous. He didn't say a word to the client. He just grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the stairs, weaving through the crowd until we reached the quiet, dimly lit VIP area. He threw my arm back and turned to face me. "Is this what you do after work?" he demanded, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Is this your 'strategy' for the company? Cornering clients in clubs?" "I am working for your company!" I snapped, my frustration finally boiling over. "The manager told me I would be fired if I didn't get this signature tonight! I didn't choose to be here, Kol!" "It's Mr. Hart," he corrected me coldly. "And I don't believe you." I looked at him, and suddenly, I wasn't in the club anymore. I was back in that hotel room three years ago. I remembered him being drunk and broken, pulling me into his arms because I smelled like the wife he had lost. I remembered the way he had kissed me then—with a desperation that had changed my life forever. I remembered that night was the reason I had a daughter he knew nothing about. And now, he was standing inches away, judging me as if I were a stranger. “You're staring again,” he warned. I reached out and grabbed his silk tie, my knuckles brushing his chest. I yanked him down with a strength I didn't know I had, forcing his face level with mine. "You want to know why I always stare at you?" I whispered, my breath hitching. "Let me remind you." I stood on my toes and crashed my lips against his. I pressed my mouth to his with everything I had, a desperate attempt to force his body to remember what his mind had forgotten. Kol stayed perfectly still. His arms remained at his sides, and his lips did not move against mine. He simply stood there, cold and unresponsive, as I kissed him.