Playing with Fire

Emma barely slept.

She tossed and turned for hours, her mind replaying everything—

Alexander's lips on hers.

His hands gripping her waist.

The way he had looked at her afterward, as if something had shifted between them.

And then—Victoria's warning.

"Alexander doesn't keep women. He uses them. And when he's done, he throws them away."

Emma clenched her jaw.

She didn't trust Victoria.

But she also wasn't stupid.

She had seen Alexander go through women like they were nothing more than distractions.

And she refused to become one of them.

Which meant one thing—

She had to end this.

Before it was too late.

—

Avoidance is Impossible

The next morning, Emma tried to avoid Alexander.

She woke up early.

Skipped breakfast.

Planned to stay as far away from him as possible.

But fate had other plans.

Because as soon as she stepped into the hallway—

She collided right into his chest.

Emma froze.

Alexander's hands shot out, steadying her.

And just like that—her entire body betrayed her.

A single touch, and she was back in last night.

Back in that moment.

Alexander's gaze darkened.

"You're avoiding me," he said.

Emma stepped back. "I'm busy."

His lips twitched. "Busy with what?"

"Things," she muttered.

"Things?"

"Yes, things," she snapped. "Important things that have absolutely nothing to do with you."

Alexander crossed his arms.

"Last night was a mistake, wasn't it?"

Emma swallowed.

Her pulse pounded.

She knew what he wanted her to say.

But if she said it—if she admitted it—

Then everything would change.

So she forced her voice to stay steady.

"Yes," she lied. "It was a mistake."

Alexander's jaw tightened.

For a moment, he just stared at her.

Then, without another word, he stepped aside.

Letting her go.

Emma forced herself to walk away.

To pretend like she didn't care.

But deep down—she knew she had just done something irreversible.

And she wasn't sure if she had won or lost.

—

Unwanted Jealousy

By lunchtime, Emma had a new problem.

And that problem's name was Sophia Devereaux.

She was stunning.

Tall. Blonde. Dressed in designer from head to toe.

And worst of all?

She was practically draped all over Alexander.

Emma clenched her teeth as she watched them from across the office.

She wasn't jealous.

She wasn't.

Except—she totally was.

Because Sophia wasn't just flirting with Alexander.

She was touching him.

Running her manicured nails over his sleeve, laughing at something he said.

And the worst part?

He wasn't stopping her.

Emma turned away, scolding herself.

"You wanted distance. You told him last night was a mistake. So why does this bother you?"

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, one thing was clear—

Watching Alexander with another woman felt like a punch to the gut.

—

A Dangerous Game

By the time Emma returned to the villa that evening, she was done.

Done pretending she didn't care.

Done acting like Alexander's world didn't affect her.

So when she found him sitting in the lounge with a drink in hand—

She marched right up to him.

"You brought her to the office on purpose," she accused.

Alexander didn't even look up. "Who?"

Emma's nails dug into her palms.

"You know who."

He finally glanced at her.

And to her absolute frustration, he smirked.

"Why does it bother you, sweetheart?"

Emma's breath caught.

Sweetheart.

He only used that word when he was teasing her.

Toying with her.

And damn it—it worked.

Emma's pulse jumped.

She glared at him. "It doesn't."

Alexander leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

"You sure?"

Emma's fingers curled into fists.

This man—

This infuriating man—

He was playing with her.

Testing her.

Daring her to break first.

Well, fine.

If he wanted a game—she'd give him one.

Emma stepped closer.

Close enough to see the amusement flicker in his eyes.

Then, ever so slowly—she leaned down.

"You can do whatever you want, Alexander," she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear.

His body tensed.

Emma smirked.

Two could play this game.

And if he thought he could toy with her emotions and walk away unscathed—

Then he was about to learn just how wrong he was.