MEETING HIM

Chapter sixteen: The Power Play

Alex’s POV

Alex had been preparing for this moment for days. Every detail had been carefully planned—every interaction calculated. He had made sure that the time and place would be just right, and now, as the day finally arrived, he felt an unsettling sense of anticipation settle in his chest.

He knew what he wanted. He always did. But with Natacha, it was different. She was an enigma—an unpredictable variable that could never be fully controlled. And that was what made her so damn intriguing.

He sat in the dimly lit corner of the café, watching the door with a patience that was rare for him. His right-hand man, Marco, had set everything up perfectly. From the location to the timing, everything had been arranged to make sure Natacha would walk into his trap. Alex wasn’t deluding himself—he knew what this was. It wasn’t a casual meeting, and it wasn’t an innocent reunion. It was a power play, a calculated move to remind her who controlled the strings.

Natacha would never admit it, but he could see it in her eyes every time they met—the way she couldn’t fully resist him, no matter how hard she tried. The pull between them was undeniable. She had once been completely in his grasp, and while he had allowed her to slip away, he knew it was only a matter of time before she came back to him. The question was not if, but when. And tonight, he planned to ensure that when would come sooner rather than later.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. Marco had texted to confirm that Natacha was on her way. Alex took a slow, deliberate breath, straightening his suit jacket. Everything was set. He had learned her weaknesses, understood the way her mind worked, and now it was time to use that knowledge to his advantage.

The door to the café swung open, and Natacha walked in. Her presence seemed to light up the room, even in the dimly lit space. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for him, and when they locked onto his, Alex saw the faintest flicker of hesitation in her gaze. It wasn’t fear—he knew Natacha wasn’t afraid of him—but it was something else, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

For a moment, he allowed himself to watch her, taking in the way she carried herself. She was more composed than he remembered, but there was still a certain vulnerability in her that he couldn’t ignore. It was that vulnerability that made her so captivating. She was strong, yes, but there was a softness to her—a fragility that Alex found irresistible.

Natacha walked over to the table, her steps slow but purposeful. She hesitated just before sitting down, her hand lingering on the back of the chair.

“Alex,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.

“Always a pleasure, Natacha,” he replied, his voice smooth, controlled, betraying none of the tension building inside him. He stood and gestured to the chair across from him. “Please, sit.”

She did, slowly, as though she were weighing her options. He had no doubt she was conflicted. She might act indifferent, but Alex knew her too well to believe she wasn’t struggling with the decision to be there.

The waitress arrived moments later, placing a menu in front of each of them. Alex didn’t look at his; he already knew what he wanted. Instead, his attention was entirely focused on Natacha, studying her every move. She scanned the menu briefly, but her eyes darted up to meet his once more.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” she said, her words coming out quietly, almost as though she wasn’t sure if she should be saying them at all.

Alex smiled, the corner of his lips tilting up in a manner that could almost be described as playful. “I disagree. You needed this,” he said, his voice low, almost like a command. “You needed to see me again. To remember what it felt like.”

Natacha’s breath caught, and for the briefest moment, he saw the walls she had built around herself crack, her emotions slipping through the cracks. But she recovered quickly, straightening her posture, her gaze turning colder.

“Is that what you think? That I needed to see you?” she said, her tone sharp, though he could hear the underlying uncertainty in her voice.

Alex leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew exactly what she was doing—trying to assert control, trying to act unaffected. But he saw through it. She wasn’t fooling him. He could read her like an open book, and it was that knowledge that gave him the upper hand.

“You think you can resist me,” he said softly, his voice like velvet, his eyes darkening with intent. “But you can’t. Not really. Deep down, you still want me. I can see it in your eyes. And I’m willing to bet you’ve missed me more than you’ll admit.”

Natacha’s fingers tightened around the menu, her lips pressed into a thin line. She was angry, he could see that much. But there was also something else—something more vulnerable, more conflicted.

She finally looked away, her gaze drifting to the window beside them, where the city lights flickered in the distance. For a moment, the silence between them stretched out, thick and heavy.

Alex didn’t break the silence. Instead, he let it hang there, letting her stew in her thoughts. He knew she was processing what he had said, trying to figure out how to respond. But deep down, he knew the truth: she would come around. She always did.

“I’m not here to fight with you, Natacha,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now, almost too soft. “I want to understand what happened. Why you pushed me away. Why you walked away from something that was so... perfect.”

Natacha stiffened at the word perfect, her eyes narrowing as she looked back at him. “Perfect? That’s your idea of what we had?”

Alex didn’t flinch. “I know it wasn’t perfect in the way you wanted it to be. But it was real. We were real. And you’re fooling yourself if you think you’ve found anything better than what we had.”

Her jaw clenched, and she exhaled sharply, clearly fighting to hold her ground. “You’re delusional, Alex. You have no idea what’s real. You think I’m here for some twisted reunion, but I’m not. I’m not the same person I was when we were together. I’ve changed.”

“Maybe you’ve changed on the outside,” Alex said, leaning in slightly, his voice low and compelling. “But deep down, you’re still the same. The same woman I knew, the same woman who couldn’t resist me.”

Natacha’s gaze hardened, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes that didn’t escape him. She was trying so hard to convince herself that she had moved on, that she was stronger now. But Alex could see it. She was conflicted, and that gave him hope.

“You’re wrong,” she said, her voice firm, though it lacked the conviction she was trying to project. “I’ve moved on. I’m not who I was.”

“You’re lying to yourself,” Alex replied smoothly. “And you know it. You can deny it all you want, but you’ll never be able to escape me, Natacha. Not completely.”

She inhaled sharply, clearly trying to regain control of the situation, but Alex could see her composure slipping. For all the bravado she put on, there was still that part of her that was drawn to him—desperately, unwillingly.

He wasn’t about to let her walk away this time. Not without reminding her of who she truly was. Who she was when she was with him.

The waitress returned to take their orders, and Alex didn’t break eye contact with Natacha. He watched her closely as she reluctantly placed her order, her hands trembling just slightly as she did. She was on edge, no doubt, caught in a whirlwind of emotions she didn’t know how to navigate.

He didn’t need her to admit it. He knew the truth. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And tonight, he was going to make sure she remembered that.