A Dinner Full of Questions

Sophia led Alexander to a small, intimate restaurant tucked away in a quieter part of the city. It was the kind of place she loved—warm lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and the mouthwatering aroma of freshly cooked meals filling the air.

Alexander, in his tailored suit and commanding presence, looked completely out of place among the relaxed diners. But if he was uncomfortable, he didn't show it.

The hostess greeted them with a polite smile. "Table for two?"

"Yes," Sophia answered before Alexander could take control. She was already pushing boundaries by picking the place—she might as well own it.

They were seated at a small table near the window. The city lights outside cast a soft glow over Alexander's sharp features. For a moment, Sophia let herself take him in. How is it possible for someone to be this effortlessly intimidating?

"You're staring, Miss Evans," Alexander said, amusement flickering in his voice.

Sophia rolled her eyes, picking up the menu. "I'm just making sure you don't order something ridiculously overpriced."

He smirked. "Money isn't an issue."

"For you, maybe." She glanced up. "But some of us actually check the price before ordering."

He studied her for a moment, as if trying to unravel something. "You weren't born into wealth."

It wasn't a question.

"No," she admitted. "I worked for everything I have."

His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes darkened—respect, maybe?

"And what made you want to work for me?"

Sophia leaned back in her chair, choosing her words carefully. "Because I wanted a challenge. And from everything I've heard about you, you're the toughest there is."

Alexander chuckled—a low, deep sound that sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "You're not wrong."

The waiter arrived, and they placed their orders.

As soon as the waiter left, Alexander rested his elbows on the table, his fingers loosely clasped. "Tell me something, Miss Evans. Why did you defend me today?"

Sophia hesitated. "Because Damien was testing you. Trying to make you look weak. And whether you like it or not, your assistant is a reflection of you."

"You mean to say you were protecting my reputation?"

She smirked. "And my own."

Alexander tilted his head slightly, watching her in a way that made her stomach flip.

"You're intriguing, Sophia."

The way he said her name—slowly, deliberately—made warmth spread through her.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she replied.

"It's dangerous," he corrected.

Before she could respond, their food arrived.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Alexander spoke again.

"This job will push you, Sophia. It will consume you if you let it."

She met his gaze head-on. "I don't break easily, Mr. Kingston."

He smirked again, but this time, there was something different in his expression—something unreadable.

"We'll see about that."

The rest of the dinner continued with an ease that surprised her. The tension between them didn't fade, but it shifted—less about work and more about something unspoken.

And as they walked out into the night, Sophia couldn't help but wonder—was she playing a game with Alexander Kingston?

Or had she already lost?