Page 45 of His Son's Ex

I help her off the desk and we fumble for our clothes, sharing hushed laughter as we try to fix ourselves into something resembling professional attire. My shirt is wrinkled beyond saving and her hair is wild, but we do our best.

Eventually, we slump onto the small couch and sit side by side. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and she leans her head on my chest.

For a while, we just lounge on the sofa, letting the adrenaline fade. But within a few minutes, my mind starts spinning again. The more time I spend with Eva, the more I wonder about her. There’s a guarded edge to her, hinting at buried wounds from a past she doesn’t share.

“Eva,” I say quietly. “Are you ever going to tell me more about yourself?”

She stiffens but doesn’t move away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to know you. And not just the brilliant tech genius or the woman who lights me on fire. I want to know all of you.”

Her silence stretches. I consider pressing, but I can sense this is a fragile subject. “I don’t like to talk about my past,” she says at last, voice subdued. “It’s complicated.”

“You’ve said that before.”

She draws a shaky breath. “If I told you who I really am and what shaped me, it could put me at risk.” A shaky laugh escapes. “Or put you at risk. Hard to say.”

I tighten my arm around her. “I handle risk for a living.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, glancing at me with faint amusement. “I know.”

We fall into silence again, my fingers absently stroking her arm while my mind races with questions. She’s not an open book, that’s for sure, but something about her draws me in deeper than I ever intended. It’s not just the explosive physical chemistry, either.

It goes way beyond that.

I realize with a start that I’m falling for this woman. A woman who should be off-limits, given our history and my role. A woman who’s so clearly complicated that she refuses to share anything about her past.

Yet here we are, entangled on a couch in my corporate office, her warmth pressed against me, her heartbeat gradually slowing into a steady rhythm beneath my hand. She’s quiet but doesn’t pull away, clearly lost in her own thoughts.

“Eva,” I say eventually, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Whatever you’re hiding, whatever you think might scare me off, trust me, I’m not a man who scares easily.”

She lets out a soft snort, lifting her head to peer at me. “Well, you are a big bad mob boss. Right?”

I smirk. “Something like that.”

She sits up, fingers fiddling with the collar of her blouse. “We should, um, get ourselves together. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”

Her cheeks bloom pink, and I grin, brushing her hair aside to plant a swift kiss on her lips. “All right,” I agree. “But this conversation isn’t over. I’m a stubborn man.”

She sighs. “You always get what you want, eh?”

I retrieve my tie from where it fell. “Usually. But I won’t force it out of you, Eva. You can tell me when, and if, you’re ready.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Thank you.”

As I watch her, an odd warmth spreads through my chest. I never intended on catching feelings, but it’s too late to pretend I don’t care about her. Every moment spent with her draws me further into her orbit. I’m enthralled by the vulnerability, sharp wit, and unwavering independence she embodies.

“So,” she says quietly. “We’re keeping this a secret, right?”

I step forward, capturing her chin between my fingers. “For now. But one day, I might want more than stolen moments.”

Her breath catches and she nods. “One day.”

I let my hand drop, stepping back. We share a lingering look, a silent agreement that what just happened will remain behind locked doors. For now.

Without another word, she turns and heads toward the door. I watch her until she slips out into the hallway, leaving me alone in the quiet of my office.

With a long sigh, I rake a hand through my hair.