Chapter 6: The Chase Begins
644 Words
The gala had ended, but Oliver’s mind was still trapped in it. More specifically, trapped with her.
Kris Peterson.
She had slipped through his fingers like silk, leaving behind nothing but the faint scent of something intoxicatingly expensive and the ghost of a smirk that he couldn't shake.
And Oliver Hyden was not a man who let things slip away.
Sitting in the backseat of his private car, his fingers drummed against the leather armrest. His father’s voice from earlier still echoed in his mind, but for once, he didn’t care about expectations or business deals.
He wanted her.
“Find out everything you can about Kris Peterson,” Oliver told his assistant the moment he stepped into his penthouse.
Nathan, a man who had been by Oliver’s side long enough to understand his moods, simply nodded. “How deep do you want me to go?”
“Everything,” Oliver said, tugging at his tie and tossing it onto the sleek marble counter. “Her past, her work history, her connections—if she has a favorite coffee order, I want to know it.”
Nathan didn’t question him, didn’t ask why. That was why Oliver kept him around.
“She’s different,” Oliver muttered to himself after Nathan left.
And he hated that she was.
The Art of Hard to Get
The next morning, Oliver expected to see Kris at the office. The Hyden Enterprises building was a fortress of glass and steel, a symbol of his family’s power, and yet the one thing he wanted inside its walls was missing.
Kris wasn’t at her desk.
Or in the break room.
Or anywhere he could find her.
He wasn’t desperate—far from it—but it irritated him how easily she disappeared.
Hours passed. Meetings dragged. Proposals were signed. And yet, his mind remained elsewhere.
Then, just as the day threatened to end without a trace of her, she finally appeared.
Oliver spotted her across the lobby, walking toward the elevators with an effortless grace that made his blood simmer. She was speaking to a coworker, laughing at something he said, and that laugh—soft, untouched by concern—made Oliver’s jaw tighten.
She was fine with ignoring him.
That wouldn’t do.
He strode toward her with the kind of confidence that made people step aside, the sound of his polished shoes echoing in the sleek space.
“Kris,” he said, his voice smooth, commanding.
She turned, her expression polite—but not too polite. "Mr. Hyden."
“Oliver,” he corrected.
She lifted a brow, as if debating whether to humor him. Then, with a teasing smile, she said, “Oliver.”
Something in his chest tightened.
The coworker beside her shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them. Oliver dismissed him with a mere flick of his gaze, and the man mumbled an excuse before practically running away.
Kris watched the exchange with barely concealed amusement. “You have quite the effect on people.”
“Do I have an effect on you?” Oliver countered, stepping just close enough to test her reaction.
If she was affected, she hid it well. “That depends on what you want from me.”
He smirked. “Dinner.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “That’s very forward of you.”
“I don’t like wasting time.”
Her eyes flickered with something unreadable before she tilted her head. “Then you might hate this.”
“Hate what?”
She leaned in ever so slightly, her lips barely parting as she whispered, “Waiting.”
Then, before he could react, the elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside.
Oliver watched as the doors slid shut between them, leaving him standing in the middle of his empire, feeling something unfamiliar crawl under his skin.
Anticipation.
She was going to be fun.
- Writer
