I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss

Chapter 3: I Know Who You Are



The door closed behind her, and I could still feel her lips on mine. Soft. Reluctant. Hungry. She had kissed me back like a woman who had forgotten why she should not. I pressed my palm against my mouth, trying to press the memory of her deeper. It was already under my skin.



I leaned against my desk and closed my eyes. My heart was a fist pounding against my ribs. I should not have kissed her again. I should have kept my distance, kept this war clean, kept my hands off the weapon Evelyn had aimed at my chest but she had walked into my office with her grey eyes and her quiet lies and her desperate hunger, and I had forgotten every rule I had made for myself.



I walked to the window and pressed my forehead against the cold glass. The city sprawled beneath me, veins of light, arteries of traffic. Somewhere in that mess of buildings and bodies, Evelyn Cole was smiling. She thought she had won. She thought she had sent the perfect knife to slip between my ribs. She did not know that I had been watching Zoe for weeks before she ever took that envelope. I knew about the café. I knew about the hospital. I knew about the twelve dollars in her pocket and the twelve million she did not have. 



I knew her mother was dying and I knew that Evelyn had made a mistake, She thought Zoe was her weapon. But I had been hunting Evelyn for two years. I had learned to turn every blade she sent back toward her throat.



I poured a whiskey I did not want and sat down at my desk. The folder with Zoe’s real name was in the drawer. I pulled it out and opened it. Her photograph stared up at me, the one from the café. Her hands were flat on the table. Her face was pale, but her eyes were steady.



She did not want to take the job. I could see it in the tightness of her jaw, the way her fingers curled against the envelope like she was holding onto something she was about to lose but she took it. Because her mother was dying. Because she had no one else. Because Evelyn Cole knows how to find the ones who have nothing left to lose.



I should hate her. She came here to destroy me. She was lying every time she opened her mouth. She was working for the woman who murdered my father. But when I look at her, I do not see an enemy. I see someone fighting the same war I am fighting, someone willing to burn herself down to save the person she loves. 



That makes her dangerous, not to me but to herself. My phone buzzed on the desk. A message from my security team. She went home. No detours. No meetings. She is alone. I typed back. Keep watching. Do not let her out of your sight. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. I should have been working on the case, tracking Evelyn’s movements, planning the next move. But all I could think about was Zoe. The way she had shivered when I touched her. The way she had kissed me back like she meant it. The way she looked at me when she thought I was not watching, like she was trying to figure out if I was a monster or a man.



I am falling for her. And that is the most dangerous thing of all. The next morning, I was in my office before the sun rose. I cannot sleep anymore, not since my father died. The dark is too heavy, and the silence is too loud. I sit in the half light with a cup of black coffee and the folder open in front of me, going over the evidence I have been collecting for two years.



It is almost ready. Another few weeks, and I will have enough to put Evelyn away for life. But I need one more thing. I need someone inside her operation. Someone she trusts. Someone she does not see coming.



Zoe, she is my way in and I hate myself for using her, for putting her in danger, for kissing her when I should be keeping my distance. The door opened at eight o'clock, she walked in wearing a different dress today. Dark blue. Fitted. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she looked tired, like she had not slept either. I wondered if she had been thinking about me the way I had been thinking about her.



You are early, I said, and my voice came out colder than I meant it to be. I wanted to see my mother before work, she said. She set a cup of coffee on my desk, black and with no sugar. She remembered. I looked at the cup, then at her. You did not have to bring me coffee. I am your assistant. It is my job.



You are not my assistant. I stood up and walked around the desk. She did not step back. You are a spy. A liar. A woman who was sent here to destroy me. Her face did not change, but I saw her hands clench at her sides. You knew that when you made the deal.



I did. I stopped in front of her, close enough to feel the heat of her body. And I still kissed you. Twice. She looked up at me, and her grey eyes were steady, but I saw the fear underneath, the same fear I felt in my chest. Why? she asked.



Because I could not help myself. I reached out and touched her face, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw. Because you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Because you are lying to everyone except me, and that makes me want you in ways I cannot explain. She did not pull away. Her breath caught, and I saw her pulse hammering in her throat. Liam, she whispered.



Do not say my name like that, I said. Not when I am trying to remember why I should keep my hands off you. She reached up and covered my hand with hers. Her skin was warm, soft. The spark jumped between us. What if I do not want you to keep your hands off me? she asked.



I stared at her. Zoe. I know this is a game, she said. I know you are using me. I know I am using you. But when you kiss me, I forget all of that. I forget everything except how you make me feel. I should step back. I should tell her to leave, to go back to her desk, to remember why we are here. But I did not. 



I pulled her against me and kissed her, hard and deep. She moaned into my mouth, and her hands fisted in my shirt, and I forgot everything too. The war. The revenge. The two years of cold nights and empty beds. There was only her. When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen. Her eyes were dark. We cannot do this, I said, but my voice was weak, and we both knew I was lying. I know, she said. 



She did not move. Neither did I. We stood there in the middle of my office with the city spread out below us and the weight of everything we were not saying pressing down on our chests. I knew I was already lost. The door was still open. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could see. But I did not care. 



And neither did she. The sunlight caught her hair, turned it into something golden and untouchable. I let my hand fall from her face, but I did not step back. I could not. She was the first thing in two years that had made me feel like I was still alive. And that terrified me more than any enemy ever could.