Chapter 2 –A dangerous game
1193 Words
Lucy had spent years preparing herself for difficult situations, but nothing could have prepared her for this—for working under him.
She exhaled slowly, staring at the screen in front of her, but the words on the document blurred together. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind kept replaying his words.
"You shouldn’t be here."
It wasn’t a warning. It was a challenge.
And Alex had always loved a challenge.
Her fingers curled into fists on the desk. She wasn’t going to let him get into her head. Not again. She was here to work, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.
A sharp knock at the door sent a flash of tension through her spine.
She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
“Come in,” she said, keeping her voice steady.
The door swung open, and there he was—Alexander Varela in all his devastatingly controlled power.
He leaned against the frame, his hands tucked into his pockets, his sharp gray eyes assessing her like she was some puzzle he was trying to solve.
Lucy forced herself to meet his gaze.
“What do you need, Mr. Varela?”
His lips twitched slightly at the formal address, but his expression remained unreadable. “You’re coming with me.”
Her brows pulled together. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a dinner meeting tonight with the DeLuca Group.” His voice was smooth, but there was something firm beneath it—a command, not a request. “You’ll be attending.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.
“It’s part of your job, Calloway,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Unless you’re backing out already?”
Her pulse spiked.
Backing out? Like hell she was.
She straightened in her chair. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
His gaze flickered down, scanning her outfit—a simple cream blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. Professional. Safe.
But then his eyes lifted to hers, and the air shifted.
His next words were quiet, almost lazy.
“Wear something red.”
“Be there by eight”
Her stomach flipped.
A sharp, unwanted heat spread through her body, but she pushed it down, keeping her expression neutral. “Why?”
His lips curved slightly. “You look good in red.”
She tightened her jaw.
He was playing games, testing her limits, seeing if she’d break.
She refused to give him the satisfaction.
Lucy met his gaze, her voice perfectly even. “I’ll wear whatever I want.”
His smirk deepened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“Suit yourself,” he murmured. And just like that, he turned and walked out, leaving behind a wave of emotions she couldn’t afford to feel.
---
**Later That Evening**
Lucy took one final glance in the mirror before stepping out of the cab.
No red.
She had chosen a sleek black dress—simple, professional, but just fitted enough to remind Alex that she wasn’t the same girl he had walked away from all those years ago.
She had changed.
And she was about to prove it.
As she entered the private dining room of the upscale restaurant, all conversation seemed to still for half a second. She ignored the lingering gazes, her eyes locking onto the one man she was trying not to notice.
Alex sat at the head of the table, his hand resting lightly on a glass of whiskey, his suit impeccable as always.
But it wasn’t his suit that made her breath hitch.
It was the way he was looking at her.
His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in every detail, every inch, before finally meeting her eyes.
Something dark flickered in them—something almost dangerous.
And then, just as quickly, he turned away, lifting his glass to his lips as if she hadn’t just stolen all the air in the room.
Bastard.
Lucy forced herself to stay calm as she slid into the empty seat beside him, aware of the way his body radiated heat even through the space between them.
“This is Miss Calloway, my new assistant,” Alex said smoothly, introducing her to the group of executives.
She smiled politely, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. But the entire time, she could feel him.
The way his fingers occasionally tapped against his glass.
The way his knee almost, almost brushed against hers beneath the table.
The way he wasn’t looking at her, but she could feel that he was hyper-aware of her presence.
Halfway through the dinner, one of the DeLuca executives leaned in, smiling.
“You and Mr. Varela seem to know each other well,” he remarked casually.
Lucy’s fingers tightened around her fork. “Not at all,” she said smoothly. “Just a professional relationship.”
She felt Alex go still beside her.
The executive chuckled. “Is that so?”
Before she could answer, Alex finally spoke, his voice perfectly controlled.
“Lucy and I go way back.”
The words were casual, but the way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.
The executive raised an eyebrow. “Old friends?”
Lucy forced a smile. “Something like that.”
Alex let out a soft chuckle.
Lies.
But he didn’t correct her.
The rest of the dinner went by in a blur, tension tangling between them like an invisible wire—dangerous and sharp.
By the time dessert was served, Lucy was practically vibrating with the need to leave there.
She excused herself, heading toward the dimly lit hallway that led to the restrooms.
But before she could take another step, a strong hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her into the shadows.
She gasped, her back colliding against a solid wall—against him.
“Alex—”
His name barely left her lips before he leaned in, one hand braced beside her head, the other still wrapped lightly around her wrist.
“Not at all?” he murmured, echoing her words from earlier.
Her breath hitched.
His scent—dark spice and whiskey—wrapped around her, making it impossible to think.
“Let go,” she whispered, though there was no real force behind it.
He didn’t.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering down to her lips before dragging back up.
“You walked in tonight like you were trying to prove something,” he said quietly. “Like you wanted to remind me that you’re not the same girl from six years ago.”
Her heart pounded.
She lifted her chin. “I’m not.”
Alex smirked, his thumb brushing lightly against the inside of her wrist—a barely-there touch that sent heat spiraling through her.
“I know.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken.
She should push him away.
She should walk out of this restaurant and never look back.
But she didn’t.
Because deep down, she knew something dangerous.
No matter how much she wanted to deny it…
She wasn’t the only one playing this game.
- Writer
