Alexander's POV
Watching Emma laugh did something strange to me. It was the kind of sound I could listen to every day and never get tired of. Everything about her was different, and every moment we spent together only made me want her more.
My mind drifted back to earlier this morning when she almost shook Foster's hand. I didn't like it. Not one bit. And when Eric called her that stupid pet name, the sudden urge to punch him nearly took over.
Was I… jealous?
The truth was, whenever Emma was around, I found myself reacting in ways I couldn't even explain.
"Sir, I need to use the restroom," she said suddenly.
"Okay, Emma," I replied.
I watched her walk away, her hair still tied in that stubborn ponytail. A smile tugged at my lips.
Stubborn girl.
My mind flashed back to what happened in my office earlier. All I had wanted was for her hair to be down. She looked beautiful no matter what, but when her hair was loose… God.
When I loosened her ponytail that morning, the urge to push her against the wall and kiss her until neither of us could breathe had nearly taken over. But I held back. The last thing I wanted was to scare her away.
When she returned, I noticed it immediately. Her hair was down.
Just the way I liked it.
Did she do that because of me?
The thought alone made something warm spread through my chest. I was just about to say something when she spoke first.
"Don't get it wrong," Emma said quickly. "I didn't let my hair down for you. I just wanted to. And besides, I prefer my hair up when I'm working. It helps me focus."
I couldn't help smiling. She was defending herself before I even accused her. Interesting.
"Are you sure about that, Emma?" I asked, leaning back slightly.
"Yes, sir," she replied, checking her phone. "Lunch break is over, sir."
My smile faded into a small frown. Why was she suddenly being so formal again?
"Why are you calling me 'sir' again?" I asked. "I thought we agreed we were friends."
She looked up at me, blinking in surprise. That tiny expression alone erased the frown from my face. God, she had no idea what she did to me.
"I know we're friends," she said carefully. "But you're still my boss… so I can't just forget that."
"You can," I said calmly. "At least when it's just the two of us."
She hesitated, then smiled a little. "I'll try my best."
But deep down, I already knew the truth. I didn't want to be just her friend. I wanted more.
***
On the drive back to the office, silence filled the car. I tried focusing on the documents in my hand, but my attention kept drifting.
Finally, I looked up. Emma was staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. And somehow… that made me want to know exactly what was going on inside her mind.
Back at the company, I buried myself in work. By the time I finally looked up, it was already 7 p.m. I began gathering my things when a knock sounded at the door. Emma stepped in.
"Sir… I'll be on my way now," she said.
"Same here, Emma. I can give you a ride home," I replied, picking up my briefcase as we walked out together.
"No, my friend is coming to pick me up," she said.
"A male friend?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. The thought alone stirred an odd irritation in me.
"No, it's Lila, my best friend," she said with a smile.
"Better," I muttered under my breath.
When we stepped outside, my driver was already waiting. I turned to her, wishing she would change her mind. I just wanted a little more time with her.
Emma suddenly waved toward someone across the lot, and I followed her gaze, assuming it must be her friend. A faint disappointment settled in my chest. I had wanted to be the one to take her home.
She turned back to me. "Sir—"
"Emma," I interrupted softly. "We're alone."
"Oh… I'm sorry. I'm just not used to it," she said.
"Goodnight, Alexander," she added.
Hearing my name on her lips sent a strange heat through me. I watched as she walked toward the car. Just before getting in, she turned back, waved, and smiled. My heartbeat raced.
Why am I feeling this way about her?
During the entire ride home, my thoughts were filled with Emma.
***
Before I even reached home, exhaustion had already settled deep into my bones. As the car pulled into the private underground parking of my penthouse building, I noticed another familiar car already parked there. Ethan's car.
Typical.
I stepped inside and headed straight for the kitchen. Sure enough, there he was, moving around like the place belonged to him, cooking God knows what again.
"Oh, my dear brother is finally back," he said the moment he noticed me.
"I don't have the energy for your nonsense tonight," I muttered, loosening my tie. "I just want to freshen up and sleep."
"I'm waiting for you!" he shouted from the kitchen.
A few minutes later, I joined him in the dining room. The smell of food filled the air as he set a plate in front of me. Noodles.
Trust Ethan to turn something simple into something that actually looked good.
"Trust me when I say I'm an amazing cook," he said proudly.
I ignored him and took a bite. Annoyingly enough… it was good.
"So," he began, leaning back in his chair. "How was Emma's first day at work? I hope you didn't scare the poor girl away."
I shrugged casually. "I told her I'm interested in her… and that we could be friends."
Ethan burst out laughing.
"You're joking," he said between laughs. "You and I both know you don't want to be just friends with her."
I stared down at my food, jaw tightening.
"I don't want to be her friend," I admitted quietly. "I want her… only for me."
"You might be falling for her, man," he said calmly. "This is love. Nothing else explains it. Your heart has finally found the one."
The words barely left his mouth when a sharp pressure twisted inside my chest. My hand instinctively pressed against it as my heartbeat slammed hard against my ribs.
Not now…
"Not now… please," I muttered, voice shaking.
The chair scraped loudly against the floor as my legs gave out beneath me.
"Alexander!" Ethan shouted, rushing toward me. "Don't close your eyes! I swear I'll kill you if you do!"
My heart condition. A dangerous inheritance haunted the men in my family, a secret no outsider knew. My father escaped it—but my younger uncle hadn't. He died after surgery. My grandfather had suffered the same fate years before him.
The doctors had improved the procedure over the years. They said the surgery had a sixty percent success rate now.
But waking up afterward… that was the problem. I could wake up months later… or never.
I refused to spend my life lying helpless in a hospital bed while my family watched me slowly fade away. The H9 injection was the only thing that could stabilize my heartbeat during an attack like this.
Ethan ran back moments later, injector in hand.
"Hold on," he said urgently. He pulled my shirt open as I groaned in pain. The pressure in my chest felt like it was crushing my lungs. Sharp, suffocating, relentless.
Then the needle pierced my skin.
The violent pounding slowly began to settle. Air rushed back into my lungs as my body relaxed against the floor.
And the last thought that crossed my mind before darkness claimed me…
was Emma.