Falling for the Enemy

Ch.11

Althea

I wake up in the sitting room of the OAK Grand's presidential suite at 6:47 AM on Saturday morning, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar luxury surrounding me.

The Garden City skyline glitters beyond floor-to-ceiling windows, and for a split second, I forget where I am.

Then I remember. Eros. Last night. What happened? I stretch, a slow ache reminding me exactly how thoroughly Eros Valenti explored every inch of my body.

The kiss was incredible—unforgettable—and now it's over. Apparently, Eros regrets it.

Simple.

The shower in the sitting room's en suite bathroom is almost as impressive as the one in the master bedroom, and I take my time under the rainfall showerhead, washing away the scent of expensive cologne and the lingering heat of Eros’s touch.

By the time I emerge, I feel like myself again—professional, composed, ready to handle whatever awkwardness today might bring. I can hear movement from the master bedroom as I get dressed. Eros’s probably dealing with his own morning-after logistics. Good.

Neither of us needs to make this more complicated than it has to be. Saturday had been a whirlwind of business meetings and venue tours. We'd spent the morning reviewing contracts with V Ventures, toured three potential partnership locations, and refined the Mensah celebrity wedding proposal over lunch with the Garden City's top event coordinators.

The afternoon brought preparation for the grand opening gala—the weekend's main event where The Garden City's elite would gather to celebrate the OAK Grand's official launch. I'd changed into an emerald green dress that hugged my curves in ways that made Eros’s eyes linger a moment too long when I emerged from the sitting room.

“Ready?" he'd asked, offering his arm. The gala was spectacular—champagne, live orchestra, and networking opportunities with tech moguls and entertainment executives.

Eros worked the room with his usual commanding presence while I charmed potential clients and secured preliminary agreements for three major events. Back in the suite, we'd maintained careful distance—him retreating to the master bedroom, me to the sitting room.

But the memory of that kiss, the way he'd looked at me like I was something he wanted but couldn't have, lingered long after the lights went out. Now, Sunday morning, I can still taste him on my lips. The weekend's business success was remarkable—three signed letters of intent, partnerships with two major Garden City venues, and a potential celebrity wedding that could put Valenti Global on the East Coast map permanently. At exactly 9 AM, I emerge from the sitting room dressed in dark slacks and a cream silk blouse—professional armor that makes me feel capable and confident.

Eros stands at the suite's bar area, fully dressed in a charcoal suit, drinking coffee while reviewing what appears to be contracts on his tablet. He looks up when he hears my footsteps, and for a moment, our eyes meet. There's a brief acknowledgment there. I don't see any regret in his gaze—even though he said he regretted it earlier. That stung, exactly as I knew it would. But oh well. It is what it is. He's a CEO, after all, and he doesn't really know me yet—not as a person.

“Morning," I say, keeping my voice light and professional.

“Morning." He gestures toward the coffee service. "I ordered extra."

"Thanks." I pour myself a cup, noting that he's already packed and ready to go. Efficient. I appreciate that about him—no unnecessary drama or awkward post-s*x conversations about what anything means.

"The Oak partnership contracts look solid," he says, returning to his tablet. "Mensah's celebrity wedding is confirmed for December, and V Ventures wants to discuss a five-year events contract."

“Excellent. The networking from Friday's reception and last night's gala definitely paid off."

“More than paid off. This weekend just secured our East Coast expansion." We spend the next fifteen minutes reviewing the weekend's business outcomes—three major contracts, five potential leads, and a partnership that will establish Valenti Global as the premier luxury events company on the Volta coast.

The numbers are impressive, and I can see the satisfaction in Eros’s expression despite his carefully maintained professionalism.

“The jet's ready when we are," he says, checking his phone. "No point waiting around."

"I'll grab my things." The car ride to the private airfield is businesslike, both of us focused on our phones and the work waiting for us in Accra. We discuss implementation timelines for the new partnerships and coordinate next week's follow-up calls with The Garden City contacts.

It's only when we're settled in the private jet's leather seats, with The Garden City falling away below us, that he addresses what happened.

“About the other night," he says, not looking up from his laptop.

“What about it?"

“I want to make sure we're on the same page." I meet his gaze directly. "We are. Two adults, mutual attraction, one night. Back to business as usual."

Something flickers across his features—relief, maybe, or something else I can't quite identify.

"Good," he says. "That's what I hoped you'd say."

“What did you think I'd say? That I was expecting a relationship proposal?"

“Some women might."

“I'm not some woman." I return to my own laptop. "I'm your assistant, Eros. I know exactly what this was." He nods once, sharply, and we both return to work. The flight passes quickly, filled with productivity and careful professionalism.

We review the Garden City trip's outcomes, plan follow-up communications, and coordinate next week's schedule. If there's an undercurrent of awareness between us—the memory of his hands on my skin, the way he whispered my name in the dark—we both ignore it with practiced efficiency.

Monday morning at Valenti Global feels reassuringly normal. The familiar chaos of phones ringing, emails flooding my inbox, and Eros’s impossible schedule demanding attention.

I throw myself into work with the kind of focused energy that's always been my strength.

“How was The Garden City?" Eva asks during our morning coordination meeting. "Productive. The Oak Grand is definitely interested in partnering for celebrity events."

“And working with Eros for an entire weekend? That must have been intense." I keep my expression neutral.

“He's a demanding boss, but the trip was successful."

“Good. I was worried you might want to quit after that much concentrated Eros Valenti exposure."

“It takes more than that to scare me off."

If only she knew. The rest of the morning passes in a blur of productivity. Eros emerges from his office around noon, looking for the Mensah's merger files. I hand them over without comment, our fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. Neither of us acknowledges the contact.

“The V Ventures follow-up call is confirmed for Thursday," I tell him.

“The men's wedding consultation has been moved to Friday to accommodate their schedule change."

"Good. What about the Nkrumah Entertainment proposal?"

“Sent this morning. Their assistant says they'll have feedback by Wednesday."

“Excellent work." He turns to go, then pauses.

"Althea?"

“Yes?"

“The Garden City trip. Your performance was exceptional. I wanted you to know that."

"Thank you. I enjoyed the challenge." He studies my face for a moment, as if searching for something. Then he nods and returns to his office. I watch him go, noting the way his shoulders fill out that perfectly tailored suit, the confident stride that speaks of a man who's never doubted his place in the world.

Two days ago that same confidence translated into hands that knew exactly how to touch me, a mouth that made me forget my own name. But that was the past. Today, I'm his assistant, and he's my boss, and we both know exactly where we stand.

The afternoon brings a new crisis—the Mensah wedding venue has double-booked their weekend, and we need to find an alternative location for three hundred guests in less than three weeks. I dive into research and vendor coordination, grateful for the distraction.

By 5 PM, I've identified four potential venues and scheduled site visits for tomorrow. Eros approves my recommendations with a brief nod, then disappears into another meeting with Colton about quarterly projections.

I'm packing up my desk when my phone buzzes with a text from my friend Sarah: Coffee tonight? You've been MIA since your Kumasi trip.

I consider declining—I'm tired, and the thought of rehashing the weekend feels exhausting. But Sarah's been my closest friend since high school, and avoiding her will only make her more suspicious. Sure. Usual place at 7?

Perfect. Can't wait to hear about your business trip with the famous Eros Valenti. If only she knew what there was to hear.

"You look different," Sarah says the moment I sit down across from her at our usual café in Accra.

“Different how?"

“Relaxed. Confident. Like someone who had really good s*x recently."

I nearly choke on my latte. "Excuse me?"

"Don't try to deny it. I've known you for ten years, Althea. There's a particular glow that comes from being thoroughly satisfied by an attractive man." She leans forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So who was it? Please tell me you didn't hook up with some random guy in Kumasi."

“I'm not glowing."

“You absolutely are. Come on, dish. What happened on this mysterious business trip?"

I consider my options. Sarah will keep pushing until she gets the truth, and lying to her has never been my strong suit. But telling her I slept with my billionaire boss feels like crossing a line I'm not ready to cross.

“It was a successful trip," I say carefully. "Good for my career."

“And good for other things too, apparently." She grins. "Look, I'm not going to judge you for having a weekend fling. You've been working nonstop ever since you joined this company. You deserved some fun."

“It wasn't a fling. It was..."

“What?"

“Complicated." Sarah's expression grows more serious. "Complicated how?"

“It’s just….” I search for the words that won’t reveal too much.” Sometimes you meet someone who challenges everything you thought you knew about yourself. And sometimes that person is wrong for you in every practical way.”

“But right for you in every other way?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, yet?”

“Well, whatever happened, it was good for you.

You seem more confident, more sure of yourself.”

Sarah reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.

“Just promise me, you won’t let practical consideration stop you from being happy.”

“Since when are you the Romantic one?”

“You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are,”

I think about Eros’s hands on my body, the way he looked at me like I was something precious and dangerous at the same time.

“Maybe,” I say. “We’ll see.”