Chapter 6 His Home

The car veered sharply onto a quieter street, the sudden movement throwing me slightly off balance. I grabbed onto the leather seat, my heart pounding as the streetlights outside blurred into streaks of gold and black.

“You didn’t answer me,” I persisted in my question.

“Why so curious?” Alan asked, his dark eyes flicked toward me, glittering with something unreadable. “Do you think I’d let anyone hurt you?”

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to let him distract me with his charm. “That’s not an answer,” I shot back. “Who was following us? Don’t tell me it was nothing, because I’m not buying it.”

His smirk deepened, his tone maddeningly magnetic, “Christa, it’s adorable how you think I’d ever let you out of my sight long enough to be in danger.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the casual intimacy of his words. Heat crept up my neck, but I forced myself to focus. “This isn’t about you protecting me,” I countered. “It’s about who’s watching us—and why. You know, don’t you?”

Alan tilted his head slightly, studying me with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

“I know a lot of things,” his gaze dipped, just for a second, to my lips, before returning to my eyes. “But maybe some of them are better left unsaid. For your sake.”

“You’re deflecting,” I said, feeling annoyed. “If it’s something dangerous, I have the right to know.”

His expression shifted, then he leaned closer, his hand resting lightly on the space between us. “What you need,” he said quietly, “is to trust me. Let me handle it. Let me handle… everything.”

The car’s dim interior felt suffocating, his presence pressing into every corner, leaving me nowhere to escape. As he leaned closer, my heart thudded wildly against my ribs. I fought the instinct to lean back, forcing myself to stay rooted in place. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

“That’s not fair,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t keep me in the dark and expect me to just go along with it.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said softly, his hand brushing against mine for the briefest moment. “How far I’d go to keep you safe.”

I stiffened at the feather-light touch of his fingers against mine, my breath catching in my throat.

My first instinct was to pull away—but before I could act, the car slowed to a stop.

I glanced outside, expecting the familiar sight of my apartment building. Instead, my eyes widened as I took in the sleek, towering structure before us.

“This isn’t my home,” I said, turning to him with a mixture of confusion and wariness.

“It isn’t,” Alan replied simply, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Come on.”

My hand frozen on the handle. “You’re seriously not going to explain?”

He stepped out first, then circled around to open my door himself. The gesture was far from comforting; it felt like a demand wrapped in politeness.

“We’re not arguing about this, Christa.” he said, gazing softly at me. “Do me a favor.”

Standing at the open door, he extended his hand.

“Will you come with me?”

I hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of my bag.

After a brief sigh, I took his hand and stepped out, the warmth of his palm briefly grounding me before he let go. The building loomed over us, its glass exterior catching the city lights in a dazzling, almost hypnotic display.

“Where are we?” I asked, following him into the private elevator that greeted us with polished silver doors.

“My home.”

The doors closed, sealing us into a space that felt too small despite its actual size. The hum of the elevator was the only sound, amplifying the silence between us.

I crossed my arms, leaning back against the mirrored wall. “So this is your idea of keeping me safe? Dragging me to your lair without so much as a warning?”

He chuckled softly. “If I wanted to drag you somewhere, Christa, you’d know.”

The way he said my name made my stomach tighten.

Before I could respond, the elevator dinged softly, and the doors slid open to reveal his private sanctuary.

He stepped forward, motioning for me to follow.

“Come on. I want to teach you how to handle the upcoming event better,” he said, “Consider this a less formal introduction. A test, if you will. Let’s see how well you do under pressure.”

I was too taken aback to argue.

I stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, my footsteps echoing slightly on the polished marble floors. The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of a distant air conditioning system. The walls were lined with abstract paintings—sharp, chaotic swirls of color that seemed to tell a story only Alan could understand. It was striking, unsettling. Each piece felt like it was hiding something. And so did he.

The bookshelves were meticulously organized, the titles an eclectic mix of philosophy, history, and economics… Like a fortress, designed to keep everyone—and everything—out.

The apartment was nothing like mine. Cold, pristine, yet there was something so deeply isolating about it. Like a fortress, designed to keep everyone—and everything—out.

As we entered the living room, I caught sight of the view outside the window. The city stretched endlessly before us, a sea of lights twinkling beneath the night sky. The top floor offered a breathtaking view, but it felt… distant, somehow. Detached from the world below. The bustling streets, the noise, the people—it all seemed so far away from here.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Alan’s voice broke the silence, and I turned to find him watching me.

I didn’t know how to respond. The view was magnificent, but there was something about it that felt cold. And somehow, it reflected him. The way he kept everyone outside, the way he thrived in his own vast, quiet world. There was beauty here, yes—but it was distant, almost unreachable.

“This place…” I replied, “It feels like you’re untouchable.”

“Maybe I am.”

He took a step closer to me. “But that’s the point. The higher you go, the less you can rely on anyone else. And the more you’ll need to trust your instincts.”

“Is that so?” I said quietly, fighting the urge to take a step back, to create distance between us.

“Enough about me, Christa,” he smiled, “But I do want to see how you handle pressure. You’re already involved in the gala preparations. Tell me, how’s that going?”

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in topic.

“It’s… coming along,” I said, my mind racing. “There are a few details to finalize. I think everything will be ready in time.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, I thought he might move on. But instead, his gaze darkened slightly, and I saw a flicker of something.

“Details, huh? You don’t seem like the type to leave things to chance.”

I could feel my pulse quicken, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the pressure of the question or the way he was watching me so intently.

“I don’t,” I replied, suddenly feeling like I was under a microscope. “I prefer to have control over work as important as this.”

Alan leaned in slightly, the subtle movement making my heart stutter in my chest. “Good,” he said, his voice low. “Because control is something you’ll need. You’ll have to be sharp, Christa. Not just for this party, but for everything that comes after.”

My breath caught in my throat. What did he mean by everything after?

Was he getting too close to figuring me out? To the real reason I was here, at Lloyd Group? The thought made my pulse spike, and I couldn’t let him see through me.

To regain my composure, I turned toward the bookshelf, feigning interest in the titles that lined the shelves.

“Didn’t expect you’re quite the bookworm,” I said, trying to sound casual as my fingers skimmed the spines of the books.

And then, unexpectedly, I felt it. His hand brushed against mine as he reached for the same book I was aiming for. The touch was fleeting, barely a whisper of contact, but it sent a rush of heat through me, making my stomach tighten in an unexpected twist of heat.

I pulled my hand back, but Alan’s fingers lingered a moment, a slow, deliberate touch that sent an undeniable shiver down my spine.

“If you like this book so much,” he said, his voice dropping a notch lower, “I can have it sent to your place. In fact, all of my things… they’re yours for the taking.”

My face warmed at his words, and I instinctively took a small step back, trying to mask the flutter in my chest. “Thanks, but I’m not here for free gifts.”

I cleared my throat, desperate to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “About the gala…Is there anything specific I should be focusing on?”

Alan stepped even closer, his proximity almost unbearable now. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and my pulse quickened despite myself.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down on me. “Right… Alan. So, what exactly do you need from me? I assume you have some more pressing priorities.”

Alan smiled, stepping closer until our bodies almost touched. “We need to finalize guest lists, and the seating arrangements, and ensure the theme is reflected in every detail. You’ll need to liaise with the designers and the catering team. I trust your judgment.”

I nodded, grateful for the shift back to work.

“Got it,” I replied, doing my best to sound composed, even as a nervous energy curled in my stomach. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

Alan’s eyes darkened slightly, his lips curling into that slow, almost predatory smile. “I’m sure you will,” he said, his tone drawing out each word.

He took another step closer, and this time I couldn’t avoid timely—

I tried to pull back, but my foot caught on the edge of the table, then I lost my balance, and in a split second, I was falling forward, arms flailing.

A strong hand shot out, grabbing my wrist just in time to stop me from crashing. But instead of helping me steady myself, Alan’s grip tightened, pulling me down towards him.

I let out a startled breath, and in a blur, I found myself falling onto the soft surface of the couch, my body now flush against his, and his chest pressed into mine.

Alan was on top of me now, his hands bracing on either side of my head as he hovered over me. His handsome face was mere inches from mine.

“You okay?” He asked in a husk voice.

“I—I’m fine.” My words faltered as I realized just how close we were.

His hand shifted, brushing a lock of hair away from my face, his fingers grazing my lower lip. It was a touch so intimate, that my entire body went stiff.

“You’ve forgotten something, Christa,” Alan whispered, his voice thick with emotion I couldn’t quite name.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.

“It’s okay, Alan whispered, his lips now moved close to my ear. “One day, it’ll come back to you.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“What do you mean?” I barely got the words out, my throat dry.

Alan’s lips hovered near mine, just barely brushing against my skin as he spoke. “Don’t worry, Christa. I’ll make sure you get what you want… in time.”

Then, Alan’s lips brushed gently against my cheek, a tender, almost reverent kiss that left me breathless.