something about him
553 Words
The ballroom sparkled with a cold elegance that Evan Yue found irritating. Crystal chandeliers reflected off champagne glasses, laughter rang hollow through the room, and perfume mingled with pheromones thick enough to choke on. The annual Pacific Business Gala was, in his opinion, one of the most useless social obligations on his calendar. But as CEO of Yue International, absence would spark rumors.
So he showed up.
Polished. Perfect. Untouchable.
He made his rounds—kissed hands, exchanged pleasantries, and deflected advances from Alphas who thought power made them irresistible. His Omega designation made him exotic in their eyes, a prize. But Evan made it clear, with a single cold glance, that he was no one’s fantasy.
Not tonight. Not ever.
And then he saw him.
Across the room, leaning casually against the bar, sipping something dark from a tumbler.
Jace.
It took a full second for Evan to believe it. He was out of his uniform, dressed in a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal veined forearms and a silver ring on his index finger. The top two buttons were undone, exposing just enough collarbone to be suggestive without trying.
He didn’t belong here.
Jace caught his gaze and smiled, lazy and self-assured, like the whole party was a stage and he was the only one worth watching. Evan’s stomach turned—not with irritation, but something worse.
Curiosity.
He moved across the floor with practiced ease, ignoring the buzz of whispers that always followed his presence. Within seconds, he was at Jace’s side.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Evan said coolly.
Jace looked genuinely amused. “Nice to see you too, Mr. Yue.”
“Answer the question.”
“I work here. Logistics.” He took another sip. “Corporate branch.”
Evan frowned. “You were my driver yesterday.”
“Yep. Agency fills in when departments are short-staffed.” Jace leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “And they’re always short when I volunteer for your assignments.”
Evan’s eyes narrowed. “You volunteered to drive me?”
Jace didn’t answer immediately. He let the silence stretch.
“Maybe,” he said finally. “Maybe I was curious what the infamous Evan Yue smelled like up close.”
Heat flared at Evan’s neck. “You’re out of line.”
“And yet, you’re still standing here.”
Evan turned to leave.
But Jace’s voice stopped him cold.
“You’re overheating.”
He froze. Slowly, he turned back. “What?”
Jace’s gaze was calm, piercing. “You’ve been pushing suppressants too hard. I can smell it. Your scent’s unstable. Sharp around the edges. Sweet underneath.”
“Don’t test me,” Evan said tightly.
“Not testing. Observing.”
“You think you can read me?”
Jace’s expression shifted—less teasing, more... focused. “I think you’re very good at pretending you’re fine.”
Evan’s heart pounded. Not from embarrassment, but from how seen he suddenly felt.
He hated it.
“I don’t need help,” he said.
“I didn’t offer any.”
And just like that, Jace turned away, rejoining the crowd, leaving Evan standing alone, breath shallow, skin buzzing.
Later that night, after retreating to the silence of his suite, Evan lay on the bed silent...
- Writer
