𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝟏𝟕

As soon as I stepped out of Davis MacLean's office, I felt the weight of frustration settle into my bones. The hallway of the law firm was practically silent, save for the hum of distant voices behind closed doors and the soft click of my Rick Owens sneakers on the polished marble floors.

I glanced down, watching my reflection in the gleaming surface beneath my feet, reminding myself to stay composed. This place screamed luxury—just like Davis. It was all so polished, pristine, and cold. Everything I didn't have time for.

Saxe stood by the door, his fake smile almost as annoying as Davis's smirk. He was holding his damn iPad like it was his badge of authority.

"Ms. Kingston," he greeted me with that polished tone, extending his hand like we were friends.

I gave it a quick shake, barely making eye contact. "Hey," I muttered, my voice sharp and impatient. I didn't have the energy for small talk. I just wanted to get out of this overpriced tower of egos.

And then, of course, there was Davis—leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place. His suit was custom-tailored, not a single wrinkle in sight, and that stupid, cocky smile was still plastered on his face. He wasn't just confident; he was smug, and it pissed me off.

"Leaving so soon?" he called out, his voice smooth as velvet, but I could hear the teasing edge underneath. He thought this was all a joke.

I rolled my eyes, already regretting that I had to deal with him at all. "Yeah, well, some of us have businesses to run," I shot back, not bothering to slow my pace. I kept walking, my head held high, but I could feel his eyes on me. It was like a game to him, and I was not about to play.

But of course, Davis was not the type to let things go. I heard the click of his shoes on the marble floor as he quickly caught up to me. Before I could react, he was standing right next to me, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body. He reached out and lightly brushed my arm with his fingertips, the gesture casual but intentional.

"You know," he murmured, leaning in just enough for me to catch the scent of his cologne, "I've always admired a woman with fire." His voice was low, like he was letting me in on some kind of secret.

I froze for a second, my body tensing under his touch. It wasn't because I liked it—hell no. It was because I was one second away from telling him exactly where he could shove that smug tone of his.

I turned to face him, squaring my shoulders and standing tall. If he thought he could intimidate me, he had another thing coming. "Davis," I said slowly, my eyes locking with his, "you can admire all you want, but I'm not here for games. Do your job, and we won't have a problem."

His smirk didn't waver, not even a little. In fact, it seemed to grow as he looked me up and down, clearly enjoying every second of this back-and-forth. "Oh, I'll do my job," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You can count on that. But the attitude? I have to admit, I find it... fascinating."

"Fascinating?" I scoffed, stepping back and breaking the small distance between us. "Davis, I'm paying you to keep me out of whatever mess this is. So, you can take your 'fascination' and put it to good use in court, because I'm not interested."

I started walking again, trying to shake off the tension building in my chest. But, as usual, Davis wasn't done. His voice followed me down the hallway like a shadow.

"You'll be back," he called out, his tone lighter now, teasing. "I know you will."

I spun around, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks, but I kept my face as cool as possible. "I'm here to protect my business, Davis. Not to entertain you."

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk finally shifting into something else. Something... serious. "And I'll make sure your business stays yours. But you don't have to be so defensive, Sadira. I'm on your side."

I glanced at Saxe, who was standing awkwardly a few feet away, his iPad still clutched in his hand like it was a shield from the tension. He was watching the exchange, clearly trying to stay neutral, but I could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"Right," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. Davis was on my side? Sure, if I could hand him fifty grand and not think twice. I hated how easy it was for him to be so smooth, so damn confident in everything he said.

I finally reached the door, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal handle. I paused for a second, knowing I should just leave it at that, but the words came out before I could stop them.

"You better win this case, MacLean," I said, glancing back at him one last time. "I'm not here to lose."

Davis smiled, that devilish grin of his creeping back onto his face. "Oh, I never lose, Sadira. You'll see."

With that, I yanked the door open, stepping out into the cool air of the street. The city buzzed around me, cars honking and people moving in every direction, but all I could focus on was the way Davis had stood so close to me, like he was daring me to challenge him.

As I walked away, I could still feel his eyes on me, the tension from our interaction lingering in the back of my mind. Davis MacLean was trouble, no doubt about it. And as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't sure if I was ready for what came next.

But one thing was certain—I wasn't going to let him win that easily. Not without a fight.