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I can’t stop thinking about him.

Truthfully, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped in all our months apart.

Even now, as I’m typing away in front of a computer, my thoughts drift to how he stormed the halls of Trésor looking for me.

I knew he was going to find me again sooner than later, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how my skin would tingle when I felt his gaze boring into me as I danced on the stage. This fierce possessiveness in his eyes.

But then he had to come and act like a caveman, dragging me out like I had no free will, not even attempting to find out why I was there and why I didn’t want to face him.

And that really pissed me off.

“You almost done here?” Sofia asks as she sweeps up her dark brown hair into a ponytail.

“Almost. Maybe five or ten more minutes.”

Typing a few lines of Excel formulas in the spreadsheet on her computer, I run the latest assessments on companies that have peaked Elias’s interests in the last few months. Sofia lets me use her office for my research on her brother’s behalf.

“You know, my brother’s company has a great research position. He’d be more than happy to forgive our loan to you. You’re clearly happier amongst numbers than on the dance floor.”

I shake my head. The curious thing is, if the Kents were not embroiled in the criminal underworld, I wouldn’t have minded working under Elias.

He’s sharp and seems to respect my intelligence.

He always comes back with thought-provoking questions on the investment rundowns I provide him, which, ironically, has sharpened my skill set in the financial analysis arena much better than textbooks and courses could do.

He may be a walking dark cloud simmering with danger, but I don’t typically see that side of him.

Part of me wonders why he’s involved with the Andersons, and I asked him a few months ago when he left The Orchid the same time I did after my shift ended.

He let out a deep, raspy chuckle and said, “Perhaps you think I’m the bad guy, the criminal.

But don’t you think these large corporations are criminals too?

They’re just more accepted. And it’s the twenty-first century.

The days of flinging around knives and hustling on street corners are over.

It’s all about connections, whether you’re a legitimate business or a company with a more colorful background.

And connections are the one thing I do have. ”

With that interesting tidbit, he strode away, disappearing into the night like a phantom in some gothic story.

“I want to do this on my own, pay off the debt once and for all, and start off with a clean slate.” I give Sofia a smile and she nods in understanding.

As the most powerful woman on the Rose floors, Sofia’s looks can be very deceiving. Her tall, graceful physique reminds me very much of Taylor, but when chaos happens on the floors, you’d see the transformation to a sharp, lethal predator before your eyes.

“Well, lock up when you’re done here. If you need me at Trésor tonight, you know how to find me.” She gives me a wave and disappears from the doorway.

The last thing I want to do is to depend on another person or be indebted to a man. Look what happened the last time I opened up my heart to trust a man? He took away the very opportunity that would’ve saved my family.

But he didn’t know. You never told him, Grace.

I’ve had this argument in my head many, many times and while I don’t directly blame Steven for what happened with the job offer at Pietra, I’m angry at the patriarchy, at the men sitting at top of the food chain, making all the decisions, holding onto all the power.

I should’ve gotten the job offer. My performance alone spoke volumes.

But alas, one man decided I wasn’t worthy, and therefore, took it away without even giving me a second thought.

And Steven, well, he delivered the death blow with sympathy, but it was still a fatal hit, and he had absolutely no idea how much it devastated me.

He should’ve fought for me.

How do you know he didn’t?

Logic doesn’t come into play when you’re hurt.

Regardless, it was a necessary reminder not to get my hopes up, and rich men always hold the power in relationships.

It’s always the woman getting hurt in the end.

The power imbalance is too great, and if I were to tell him everything now and he came in riding on his white horse, rescuing me from my job here, I’d be indebted to him for good. It’d set my heart up for more heartbreak, for more disappointments.

The only person I should rely on is myself.

After I sent off the completed spreadsheets and answered Elias’s probing questions in his email, I lock Sofia’s office and head to Trésor for my shift for the night.

I change into my outfit for the evening, the pearl and chain minidress, the one that shocked Steven into stillness in the courtyard.

It’s one of my favorites really, if it only had more fabric affixed to it.

I check my reflection in the mirror, noting my makeup, a sharp cat-eye with classic red lipstick I’ve come to love, and whirl toward the lounge.

My pulse races at who I may encounter there tonight. Will he show up now that he has found me? Or would he stay away?

“Genevieve! I’m so glad I caught you before you went out there,” Camille screeches in excitement as she nearly smacks me in the face as I am about to step through the dressing room doors .

“What? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I’m completely fine. In fact, I have the night off…with pay, I might add.” She grins at me, her face beaming like she won the lottery.

“And here I thought you like shaking your ass off in public.”

“Hey! It’s because I like the power, lady. You still don’t get it. We hold all the power out there. When on earth can we literally, well almost literally, grab rich men by their balls and make them obey us?”

Rolling my eyes, I move to brush past her, but she stops me with her hand. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I have the night off with pay?”

“I’m assuming some rich guy gave you a hefty tip?” Which happens often as Camille, with her sunny disposition and California bombshell looks, frequently has men throwing themselves at her feet.

“No! Some rich dude bought out the entire place for the evening. Paid for all the girls for the night. Said we can use it as vacation. But…” She bites her lip, and her large eyes appearing a tad guilty. “His only request is you have to stay. Sorry, Gen.”

Fucking Steven Kingsley. I’d bet my life it’s him.

My lips flatten as heat rushes up in my chest. My heart breaks into a sprint, making laps inside my rib cage.

Whether it is from anger or in celebration, I can’t tell.

Part of me is furious at him forcing his way into my life again despite my rebuffs, but a tiny piece of me, tucked carefully away with the girl who once believed in wishing stars and interesting facts of the world, flickers alive, sending out shivers of anticipation through my veins.

He cares about me enough to try again.

Swallowing the sandpaper in my throat, I force out a smile. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see what he wants from me. Enjoy your night.”

“Rock his world and let loose! Remember, you hold all the power,” Camille calls after me before dissolving into chuckles.

With my breath lodged firmly in my chest, I step into the darkened lounge, finding Steven Kingsley, in all his modelesque physique, looking far too good in a black, slim fit suit, sitting man-spread on one of the tufted sofas in the back, with the sole spotlight of violet hues shining on him, as if I’d miss him.

The King of Wall Street in full force.

I heard from Elias he got promoted to Chief Operating Officer at Pietra three months ago, the youngest man to head up the most prominent investment bank in the country.

But he looks tired. Haunted. Alone.

I don’t miss how he seems to be more haggard than nine months ago, or the pain reflected in those piercing hazel eyes.

I don’t miss how there’s a day’s worth of scruff on his usually clean-shaven face or how his tie is not perfectly knotted and is slightly askew.

His beautiful lips are flattened, like he’s trying to leash in his emotions.

The same lips that took me in savagery at the casino event and made me forget about everything around me.

My heart seizes and clenches, much like the way it did when he said my name in the hallway as he passed by my cubicle to his office.

Except now it’s much worse. The butterflies, which I thought to have long disappeared, flap their wings wildly inside me as I walk toward this intimidating man who has stolen my heart without my permission.

I need to calm myself and put some mental distance between us until I can figure out what I want from him, if anything.

“Grace.” His deep, rumbly voice, sexy and smooth like the finest whiskey, ghosts over my skin, sending shivers down my body.

Letting out a small exhale, I fight the urge to clench my legs and instead stand up straighter and sway my hips for good measure as I approach him, the pearls of my dress colliding together in a soft rhythm.

His eyes darken as they drag down the length of my body, his nostrils flaring, and I can see the rippling in his corded throat as he swallows.

“Mr. Kingsley. I thought I told you not to come back.” My voice is huskier than I’d like. It seems like my body disobeys me whenever I’m in his presence.

I stop two feet in front of him, watching his gaze trail up from my legs, pausing at my heavy breasts, then up to my face. Instead of feeling gross like I usually do when other men focus their attentions on me, my skin feels hot and my nerve endings spark with sensations as heat travels to my core.

His posture is deceptively relaxed, like a king lounging on his throne, assessing his empire before him. But a vein pulses on his forehead and I see the quickening of his breathing.