CHAPTER 15
“Don’t Call Me That Tonight…”
Hazel’s POV
The silence after the gala was suffocating.
I tried to distract myself—movies, tea, a long shower—but everything reminded me of him.
Alexander Wilson.
The way he pulled me away from Damien like I belonged to him.
The way his fingers brushed mine in the car, close but never touching.
The way he looked at me on the dance floor, like he was trying not to drown.
I changed into a loose t-shirt and cotton shorts, then curled up on the plush penthouse couch with a book I had no intention of reading.
The city skyline blinked outside like a distant dream.
I was half-asleep when I heard it.
Beep.
The penthouse lock disengaged.
I sat up fast, heart suddenly alert.
The door opened.
And there he was.
Alexander.
He stepped in slowly, the door clicking shut behind him.
Tie undone. Jacket tossed over one shoulder. His crisp white shirt was partially unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to his forearms, hair slightly tousled. His steps were uneven.
His eyes—usually so guarded—looked different.
Softer. Sleepy. And… tipsy?
---
Alexander’s POV
I didn’t usually drink this much.
But tonight's dinner had dragged longer than expected. One glass became two. Two turned into five.
Still—drunk? No. But my head was definitely heavier than usual.
I tossed my jacket carelessly and loosened the last of my buttons.
And then I saw her.
Hazel.
Barefoot. On the couch. Hair spilling down her shoulders. Her shirt slightly slipping off one side.
Something about the way she looked at me—eyes wide, chest rising and falling just a little too quickly—made it hard to breathe.
She opened her mouth.
“Sir, are you okay?” she asked, standing.
Sir.
That word. That title. That distance.
I didn’t want distance tonight.
“Don’t call me that tonight,” I murmured, voice lower than I intended.
She blinked, unsure. “What?”
I took a step toward her. She stepped forward too, reaching to steady me. “You should sit down, you look like you—”
I caught her wrist.
And I didn’t let go.
---
Hazel’s POV
My breath caught.
His fingers were wrapped around my wrist—firm, warm, but not rough.
He didn’t move. Neither did I.
His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them. Softer, yes—but also… haunted. Like he was searching for something in me he’d lost in himself.
Then his voice came again, lower this time. Almost broken.
“Why do you always look at me like that?”
I swallowed. “Like what?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, his hand slipped to my cheek.
His thumb brushed just beneath my eye—slow. Tender. Like he wasn’t sure I was real.
I should’ve pulled away.
I should’ve said no.
But I couldn’t move.
Then—he kissed me.
Soft. Tentative. Like a question he wasn’t brave enough to ask out loud.
Then firmer. Deeper. His lips searching mine, hungry and unsure all at once.
My mind spun, but my body stayed frozen.
And then—it ended.
He pulled away like I’d burned him.
His jaw clenched. His breath ragged.
And just like that… the wall was back.
“Go to bed.”
His voice had snapped shut again. Cold. Distant.
The shift punched something deep in my chest.
I nodded—barely—and turned to go.
But just before reaching the hallway, I whispered without turning back:
“You don’t have to push me away every time you feel something.”
He didn’t answer.
So I walked away with a heart that felt like it had just cracked wide open.
---
Alexander’s POV
Her words hit like a gunshot.
You don’t have to push me away every time you feel something.
She was right.
But right didn’t matter.
I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
And now—after that kiss—I’d crossed a line I swore I wouldn’t.
She was my assistant. Vulnerable. Younger. Trusting.
And I was her boss. Distant. Broken. Dangerous.
I should’ve never let myself get that close.
Because now?
Now I was falling.
And if I fell…
I was going to take her down with me.
---
Hazel’s POV – Later That Night
I didn’t sleep.
I lay curled under the blanket, staring at the ceiling while replaying that kiss on a loop.
Was it the alcohol? A mistake?
Or was it real?
A part of him had reached out.
And then he’d buried it again.
He was always reaching and retreating—like a wave that wanted to touch the shore but was afraid it would destroy it.
But I wasn’t the shore.
I was already halfway drowned.
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Alexander’s POV – Midnight
I poured a glass of whiskey I didn’t touch.
I stood by the window, watching the city blur behind the glass.
In the reflection, I saw myself.
And for the first time in a long time…
I didn’t recognize the man staring back.
What scared me most?
I didn’t hate it.
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TO BE CONTINUED…
🔥 Next: Will Alexander finally admit what he's feeling—or will guilt force him to let Hazel go?
💬 Comment if you want Episode 16!