9. STRANGE WOMAN

Evelyn woke up and sat upright, yawning as she rubbed her eyes. Her mind snapped to attention the moment she remembered—she had slept beside someone. Her gaze darted to the other side of the bed.

Wait, what? He was gone.

She blinked, confused. Did he… not touch her? It was their first night together, but he hadn't laid a hand on her. For a moment, she couldn't believe it. What did she expect anyway? A demon doesn't need sleep, she thought bitterly.

Her eyes widened as another thought struck her. Panicking, she began checking herself, running her hands over her arms and clothes. Everything was exactly as she had left it. Idiot, she scolded herself. Why had she even slept so soundly beside him?

Wait—what? He didn't touch her. Not even once.

Does a demon respect the wishes of others like that? The thought unsettled her, and she shook her head in disbelief before sliding off the bed.

After a quick bath, she got dressed and prepared to head downstairs, but as she reached for the door, last night's conversation came rushing back. She froze, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

"Carlos," she whispered to herself, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

She buried her face in her hands, groaning. How could he ask her to call him by his name? Just thinking about it felt impossible. Calling him that felt like dragging her soul through hell.

Evelyn descended the stairs, finding the household as busy as ever. Her eyes scanned the bustling scene, but there was no sign of him.

The butler approached and bowed deeply. "Young Miss, you're awake."

She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. "Where is the bos—" She stopped abruptly, fear creeping into her voice. The butler's expression flickered with unease, as though he had crossed some invisible line that might cost her dearly.

"I mean… Carl—Car…" she stammered, her tone laced with apprehension, as though uttering his name might summon him. "Carlos," she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The butler lowered his head further. "Young Miss, the boss has already left for work."

Evelyn nodded slowly. A mix of emotions churned within her—relief tinged with sadness. But why sadness? She couldn't understand it herself

In the CEO's office, the secretary entered and bowed respectfully. Carlos stood by the glass wall, gazing out at the city below. A glass of wine rested in his hand, and he took a measured sip before turning to him.

"These are the files you asked me to prepare," He said, holding out the documents.

"Leave them," he replied curtly, turning back to the view without another glance.

As his eyes drifted across the skyline, his thoughts wandered to the previous night. He had closed his eyes when the sensation of movement jolted him to open his eyes.

Before he could react, a leg had brushed against his. His eyes flew open, startled, only to find her—a tangle of soft hair and warmth—pressed against him. She had draped an arm over his and nestled her head on his chest, her hair spilling across his face in disarray.

He could still remember the faint, sweet scent of strawberries wafting from her hair.

How could she sleep so peacefully, so vulnerably, next to someone she feared so deeply?

Strange woman, he thought. Such a strange woman.