The streets of Philadelphia buzzed with life as Emma Carter stepped out of Carter & Associates late in the evening. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the simmering frustration still lingering from her latest meeting with Alex Kingston.
Dinner.
The word echoed in her mind as she pulled her coat tighter around her. She hadn't expected Alex to agree to her challenge so easily, and now, with their deal set, she felt an uneasy thrill she couldn't quite place.
He was insufferable—cocky, reckless, and far too used to getting his way. But under all that arrogance, she sensed something else. Something sharp. Something dangerous.
Emma prided herself on reading people. But Alex? He was a puzzle she couldn't yet solve.
As she reached her car, a voice broke through her thoughts.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?"
She turned, already knowing who it was.
Alex leaned against his own sleek black Aston Martin, arms crossed, that damn smirk playing on his lips. The city lights cast sharp shadows across his face, making him look even more infuriatingly confident.
Emma exhaled. "What do you want, Kingston?"
Alex tilted his head. "Maybe I just enjoy seeing you all riled up."
She rolled her eyes. "You must be thrilled then."
He chuckled. "You have no idea."
Emma ignored the way his voice sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. She refused to let him get under her skin.
Instead, she opened her car door. "If you're here to gloat, don't bother. I have work to do."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Work? At this hour?"
Emma gave him a pointed look. "Not all of us can afford to coast through life on a last name."
Something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable. It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual smirk.
"Touché." He stepped closer, resting his hands in his pockets. "Tell me something, Carter—do you ever let yourself breathe?"
Emma narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
He shrugged. "You're always working. Always fighting. Do you ever just… stop?"
Emma clenched her jaw. "I don't have that luxury."
Alex studied her for a long moment, and for the first time, his smirk softened into something else. Something that almost looked like understanding.
The silence stretched between them, thick with tension neither of them wanted to acknowledge.
Finally, Alex exhaled and took a step back. "Well, don't work too hard, Feisty."
Emma huffed. "Don't call me that."
He grinned. "No promises."
With that, he slid into his car, the engine purring to life before he sped off into the night.
Emma watched him disappear into the city, her grip tightening on her steering wheel.
This deal was going to be hell.
And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to win or lose.