Falling for the Enemy

Ch.10

Eros Pov

The reception is a blur of networking and deal-making. Althea proves to be everything I could have hoped for this event—charming without being flirtatious, knowledgeable without being overwhelming, and professional while still being warm.

She remembers names, asks follow-up questions, and somehow makes everyone feel like the most important person in the room. I watch her work and feel something that might be pride. Or possession. Or both.

“Your assistant is remarkable," says Owusu, CEO of Volta Ventures. "Smart, personable, beautiful. You're lucky to have her."

“She's exceptional," I agree, my eyes following Althea across the room as she laughs at something the mayor's wife is saying. "Word of advice?" Owusu leans closer. "Don't let her get away. Women like that don't come around often in our line of work."

He's right, of course. But what he doesn't understand is that keeping Althea might be more dangerous than letting her go. The evening winds down around eleven.

We've made three significant connections, scheduled two follow-up meetings, and laid the groundwork for what could be a very profitable East Coast expansion.

“That went well," Althea says as we wait for the elevator to our floor. "The Nkrumahs are definitely interested in our celebrity wedding package, and Volta Ventures wants to discuss their annual gala."

“You were perfect tonight," I tell her, and I mean it. "I couldn't have asked for a better partner."

The word 'partner' hangs between us as the elevator climbs. Althea’s cheeks are flushed from champagne and success, and she's looking at me with an expression I can't quite read.

“Thank you," she says softly. "For bringing me. For trusting me with something this important."

"You earned it." The elevator opens onto our floor, and we walk to the suite in comfortable silence. But as soon as the door closes behind us, the atmosphere shifts. We're alone again, in this beautiful space, and the professionalism that carried us through the evening feels suddenly fragile.

“I should let you get some rest," I say.

"Tomorrow's schedule is packed."

“Eros." Her voice stops me halfway to the master bedroom. "Can I ask you something?"

I turn back. "Of course."

“When you said I was a better partner, did you mean it?" The question hits me like a physical blow. She's standing in the middle of the living room, still wearing that devastating black dress, looking at me with eyes that seem to see everything I'm trying to hide.

“Yes," I say. "I meant it."

“Are you involved with anyone?" I ask, the question coming out rougher than intended.

"No." Her cheeks flush slightly. "You?"

“No." She nods, then moves toward her room.

"I should get some rest." But she pauses at the hallway entrance, her hand on the wall. When she looks back at me, there's something in her eyes—uncertainty, desire, conflict.

“Althea," I say quietly. She turns around slowly. We stare at each other across the room, the air thick with tension neither of us wants to acknowledge. I take a step toward her. Then another. She doesn't move away. When I reach her, I lift my hand to her face, my thumb tracing her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into the touch.

“This is a mistake," I murmur. "I know," she whispers. But neither of us steps back. I cross the remaining distance and pull her into my arms, my mouth finding hers with a hunger that borders on desperation. She melts into me immediately, her arms winding around my neck, her body soft and warm against mine.

“I've been thinking about this all evening," I murmur against her mouth. "About getting you alone, about kissing you the way I've been wanting to."

“Then kiss me," she breathes.

“Are you sure?" I ask one more time, giving her a chance to change her mind.

“I'm sure," she whispers. "I want this."

The kiss is different from anything I've ever experienced. Deeper, more urgent, carrying the weight of days of suppressed desire and professional tension. I can taste the champagne from the party on her lips, feel the way she shivers when I deepen the kiss, minutes later we lie together on the hotel's pristine sheets, both breathing hard, both trying to process what just happened.

"That was..." Althea starts.

“Incredible," I finish.

“I was going to say life-changing, but incredible works too."

Life-changing. The words hit me harder than they should, because she's right. Something fundamental has shifted between us, something that goes beyond physical attraction or workplace chemistry.

But as the endorphins fade and reality crashes back in, I realize what I've done. I've crossed a line I swore I'd never cross. I've let emotion override logic. I've risked everything I've built for a moment of weakness.

“Althea," I say, rolling away from her and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“This was⁠—"

“Don't." Her voice is sharp. "Don't you dare say it was a mistake."

But it was a mistake. A spectacular, earth-shattering mistake that could cost me everything.

“We work together," I say. "This complicates everything."

“So what are you saying?"

“I'm saying this was a mistake. A moment of weakness that can't happen again."

The words taste like ash in my mouth, but they're necessary. I've spent years building this empire on discipline and control. I won't let one night of passion destroy everything.

She stares at me for a long moment, then gets out of bed with as much dignity as she can manage. She heads for the sitting room, leaving me alone in the master bedroom with the scent of her perfume on my skin and the taste of regret in my mouth.