Chapter 38 – Unfinished Business

Emma wasn't sure how long she sat there after Alex left. His words lingered in the air, wrapping around her like an invisible thread she couldn't quite shake off.

This wasn't a game anymore.

Or maybe it had always been one, and she had just never realized she was playing.

She pushed the thought aside and forced herself to focus. She had work to do, a case to win, and an entire career that couldn't afford to be derailed by a man who thrived on chaos.

Her office felt colder, the silence louder, as she turned her attention back to the stack of papers on her desk. The counter-lawsuit Alex had filed was a masterclass in legal manipulation. Every word had been carefully chosen, every argument sharp enough to cut.

She read through it once, then again, searching for weaknesses. There had to be something—some small crack she could exploit.

But the longer she read, the more she realized how well he had played this.

A part of her should be furious.

And she was.

But beneath the frustration, there was something else. A grudging respect for the way his mind worked.

And that infuriated her even more.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her out of her thoughts.

For a split second, she thought it was him.

But it wasn't.

It was a text from Sophie.

Drinks tonight? You look like you need one.

Emma hesitated.

Normally, she would say no. She wasn't the type to drink her problems away.

But tonight?

Tonight, she needed the distraction.

Fine. 8 PM. Don't be late.

---

The bar was loud, filled with laughter and conversation. A jazz band played in the background, the smooth melody weaving through the crowd. The dim lighting cast a warm glow over the polished wood and leather seats, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and alive.

Emma sipped her cocktail, pretending she wasn't looking over her shoulder, pretending she wasn't half-expecting Alex to show up even though there was no logical reason for him to be here.

Sophie was saying something about her latest date disaster, waving her hands dramatically, but Emma wasn't really listening.

Her pulse stuttered.

Because there he was.

Alex Kingston, standing at the bar, his dark blue shirt unbuttoned just enough to make her irrationally annoyed.

Like he had the audacity to look that good without even trying.

A woman stood beside him, leaning in too close, laughing at something he said. Emma clenched her jaw, ignoring the ridiculous stab of irritation in her chest.

She had no right to care.

And yet, when his eyes met hers across the room, when that slow, knowing smirk curved his lips, she felt it.

Something dangerous.

Something inevitable.

Sophie noticed. "Oh no. What's he doing here?"

Emma exhaled sharply. "I don't know. But I'm about to find out."

She stood, grabbed her drink, and marched toward him, ignoring Sophie's whispered bad idea, bad idea.

Alex turned slightly, as if he'd been waiting for her. "Carter. Fancy seeing you here."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Cut the crap, Alex. Are you following me?"

His lips twitched. "Tempting thought, but no. This is just a happy coincidence."

She didn't believe him for a second.

"What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms.

His gaze flickered downward, lingering on the curve of her dress before meeting her eyes again.

"You."

Her breath caught.

And then, before she could respond, he leaned in, his voice dropping just for her.

"And I think we both know you want me too."

Damn him.

Damn herself.

Because, for the first time, she wasn't sure she could deny it.

She refused to be the first to break. Holding his gaze, she lifted her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip, buying herself a moment to think. "You're awfully confident for a man who just lost a case."

Alex chuckled, low and amused. "Lost? Darling, I haven't even started playing yet."

His voice sent a shiver down her spine, but she ignored it, tilting her chin. "You're deflecting, Kingston. If you're not following me, why are you here?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I wanted a drink. Maybe I wanted to see the look on your face when you realized you can't get rid of me."

Her pulse quickened, but she kept her expression impassive. "You're exhausting."

"And yet, you're still standing here."

She hated how right he was.

The woman beside him—tall, blonde, and clearly interested—cleared her throat, glancing between them. "Alex, are you going to introduce me?"

Emma arched a brow, waiting.

Alex barely spared the woman a glance. "No."

The blonde scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder before walking away with a huff.

Emma shook her head. "Charming as always."

He smirked. "Jealous?"

She scoffed. "Of that? Please."

But the truth was, she had no idea what she was feeling.

She should be walking away. She should be reminding herself why she hated him.

Instead, she stood there, caught in a battle she wasn't sure she wanted to win anymore.

Alex took a step closer, close enough that she could smell the faint trace of his cologne—woodsy, expensive, devastatingly familiar.

"You keep fighting this," he murmured. "But sooner or later, Emma, you're going to have to admit it."

Her heart pounded. "Admit what?"

His fingers brushed her wrist—just a whisper of a touch, but it sent fire racing through her veins.

"That you want me just as much as I want you."

The words hung between them, heavy, unshakable.

Emma knew she should say something, deny it, push him away.

But for the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure she wanted to.