Chapter 20: A Dangerous Pull

Emma told herself she wouldn't think about him.

That lunch was just lunch.

That Alex Kingston was nothing more than an annoyance, a distraction she had no intention of entertaining.

But as she sat in her office hours later, scrolling through emails she wasn't actually reading, she realized—

She was lying to herself.

Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake him.

—

She pushed her chair back with a frustrated sigh, standing and pacing to the window.

The city stretched before her, towering skyscrapers, flashing lights—Philadelphia was always moving, always alive.

Much like Alex Kingston.

Persistent. Unavoidable.

And if she wasn't careful…

Dangerous.

—

Emma wasn't stupid.

She knew how men like Alex worked.

They pushed. They chased. They made you believe you were the one in control—until suddenly, you weren't.

And yet, despite everything she knew…

Despite every warning she gave herself…

She was still caught in his pull.

—

A knock at the door broke her thoughts.

She turned, composing herself as Lily stepped in.

"There's someone here to see you."

Emma frowned. "Who?"

Lily hesitated.

Then, before she could answer, a deep voice filled the room.

"Hope I'm not interrupting."

Emma's stomach dropped.

Because she didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Alex Kingston.

—

He leaned against the doorframe, looking entirely too smug, too at ease.

Emma inhaled sharply, keeping her expression unreadable. "What are you doing here, Kingston?"

Alex stepped inside as if he owned the place. "Just thought I'd check in."

Emma crossed her arms. "On what?"

"You."

Her jaw clenched. "I'm fine."

Alex smirked. "Didn't say you weren't."

Emma exhaled through her nose. "If you're done wasting my time—"

"I have a proposal," he interrupted.

She narrowed her eyes. "If this is about business—"

"It's not."

Emma's pulse skipped.

Because the way he said it?

Low. Intentional.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

—

She hated how easily he got under her skin.

Hated that he always seemed one step ahead.

But she wasn't about to let him win.

So she tilted her head, giving him a cool, amused look. "Let me guess. Another date?"

Alex chuckled. "Not a date. A deal."

Emma raised a brow. "What kind of deal?"

He took a step closer.

Close enough that she could catch the faint scent of his cologne—clean, crisp, and entirely too distracting.

"If you win," he said smoothly, "I'll walk away. No more pushing. No more chasing."

Emma kept her expression neutral. "And if you win?"

Alex's gaze darkened. "You let yourself stop fighting this."

Emma's heart pounded.

Because she knew exactly what this was.

And it terrified her.

—

She could have shut it down.

Could have ended the conversation, told him to leave, refused to play his game.

But instead, she found herself asking—

"How do I win?"

Alex's smirk deepened.

And that's when she knew.

She had already lost.