Chapter Six
1282 Words
Mateo’s POV
It was hard to recall, slipping away from my memory the minute I thought I had it all figured out, like trying to hold onto smoke. I remembered flashes—the dim lighting of my apartment, the weight of someone close, the feel of something that wasn’t quite a dream. But the details? They slipped away whenever I tried to focus.
It had all started at that blasted business event. I hated those gatherings. Too many fake smiles, handshakes, and people trying to impress me with empty words. I’d felt… strange that night. My head was spinning, the ground beneath me seemed to twirl in spirals, my chest tight. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion, but it didn’t pass. When I couldn’t shake the feeling, I left early.
I’d planned to text my doctor. Instead, the next morning, I woke up to find that it was Evelyn who had called him.
I couldn't picture it— the image of Evelyn,my stuck up assistant who barely said more than what was required. The doctor’s words replayed in my head. “It could’ve been dangerous if no one had found you.” But what stuck out was, “Evelyn handled it.”
She’d been there.
I checked my messages, and sure enough, I’d texted her.
It didn’t make sense. Why would I have called Evelyn? Out of everyone I knew, she wasn’t the one I’d think to reach out to. Yet, she had come. Risking her own safety and coming because I had texted her. Was that how much she valued her job?
I thought of her now as I leaned back in my office chair. She always had her hair packed up in a ponytail, most times, I found myself wondering if she ever wore her hair down and the way she never smiled unless it was absolutely necessary. She was efficient, no-nonsense, always the picture of professionalism. Not the type to get flustered or step outside her rigid little box.
And yet…
That hair tie.
It had been there. On my bed. A tiny, unremarkable thing. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all— I barely noticed anything about her.
But that day was different. She kept tugging at her wrist during the meeting the other day. My gaze had landed on her hand, and there it was— it wasn't a designer of some sort, yet it was my attention. Black, simple, but elegant.
The realization struck me. She’d been in my bed.
And the more I thought about it, the more I remembered. The feel of soft skin, the faint scent of vanilla, the way I’d murmured something I couldn’t quite recall. It hadn’t been a dream.
What intrigued me more? Was Evelyn herself, how she carried herself. She hadn’t acted like anything had happened. No flirty smiles, no suggestive comments, nothing to give her away. Other women would have used the situation to their advantage. But Evelyn? She carried on like always, her poker face firmly in place. It was… fascinating.
I thought I had mastered it all— the act of manipulation and seduction. Studied the human behavior, but for the first time in years, someone was genuinely unpredictable.
When my assistant informed me that Evelyn was working a second job on the side, I didn’t believe it at first. It was unlike her. She followed the rules to the letter. She was loyal to this company, to me. So why would she risk everything?
Curiosity got the better of me, and I started digging. It wasn’t long before I found the reason—her mother. Hospital bills, mounting debt… Evelyn was drowning, and she was doing everything she could to keep herself afloat.
The corner of my mouth twitched, my lips curving into an involuntary smile as I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk, the hair tie in my fingers
“Evelyn,” I thought, twirling the hair tie in my fingers. “You’re more interesting than I gave you credit for,”
And now, here she was, sitting before me, nervously adjusting the collar of her shirt.
I drummed my fingers against the desk, as I paused in my tracks pretending to think. “and that is why I want to offer you a solution?”
Her eyes darted to mine, suspicion flickering across her face. “What kind of solution?”
“While this drug incident is a clear indication that someone is after me, I was advised to cut off my involvement with random women,”
“Well sir, I'm sure that your team is capable of handling the perceived threat sir.”
“Well to an extent,” I sighed, stopping right in front of her, resting my elbow on the table, meeting face to face with her.
“But then Evelyn. Since you're in need of money, why don't I make you a deal? We can fulfill each other's needs while I make sure your mother gets the best medical treatment,” I paused to read her expression, the side of her I haven't seen in months of working with her.
Her eyes were fixated on her palms, as though she dared not to look up at me, her scent— the faint scent of vanilla invading my nostrils.
“And as a bonus,” I continued, enjoying the reaction I got from her, “ I can just forget that you tried to go against company rules”
Her expression hardened. “What are you asking for?”
“It’s a simple arrangement,” I said, shrugging. “You help me. I help you. No strings.”
I straightened, stepping closer. “I’ll take care of your mother’s medical bills. No loans, no repayment. In return, you’ll agree to something I need.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“Think of it as a partnership,” I said smoothly. “We both get something out of it.”
Her pupils dilated, I could see tears well up in her eyes. I wanted to reach out, to wipe them with my thumb, but I restrained myself— not yet.
She stared at me, blinking the tears back, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I thought you were better than this,” she said finally, her voice came out in messy shrieks. Each shriek like an arrow, stabbing my heart
I raised an eyebrow. “Better than what?”
“Using people when they’re vulnerable,” she snapped. “I guess,” she sniffed, flashing me a painful smile, “I guess that’s what makes you a good businessman.”
Her words stung more than I cared to admit, but I pushed the feeling aside.
“You’re phrasing it harshly,” I said, smirking. “But think about it, Evelyn. It’s not a bad deal.”
She shook her head, they were crimson red with anger or was it hurt? I couldn't tell. “If you’re asking me to be your personal prostitute, the answer is no.”
My chest tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. “Prostitute? That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” she demanded.
I thought about it all too carefully. Heck, I had spent the entire week debating on whether I was making the right decision. But when I saw her walk through that door with the black top and gray skirt that clung to the right places.
I felt a surge of desire in me, to own her.
To protect her.
I looked up to meet her waiting eyes, “What if I want you to be my girlfriend for a year?”
- Writer
