The CEO's Match

The Edge of Control

Alexander's pov

The day had been exhausting, not just in the typical business sense, but in a way that had tested every ounce of my self-control. Dealing with Nova's antics was one thing-something I had almost gotten used to-but today was different. Today, she had gone beyond the usual provocations, crossing into territory that was becoming increasingly difficult to navigate.

I leaned back in the car seat as we drove back to the hotel, watching the city lights blur past the window. The meetings had been a success on paper, but my mind kept drifting back to Nova, to the way she had looked, moved, and spoken today. It was as if she had made it her mission to throw me off balance at every turn. And despite my best efforts to focus on the task at hand, I couldn't deny that she had succeeded.

Her dress-God, that dress. It was designed to draw attention, to distract, and it did exactly that. The clients could barely keep their eyes off her, and I wasn't blind to it either. But it wasn't just the dress; it was her entire demeanor. The way she challenged me, tested the limits of what I would tolerate in a professional setting. It was maddening, frustrating, and yet... something about it pulled me in.

By the time we reached the hotel, I was wound tight, every muscle in my body coiled with tension. Nova seemed completely unaffected, of course. She strolled into the hotel like she owned the place, a slight smirk playing on her lips as if she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

"Good night, Alexander," she said with a tilt of her head, her voice dripping with that infuriating mix of sarcasm and sweetness. Then she disappeared down the hall towards her room, leaving me standing there, watching her until she was out of sight.

I didn't move for a long moment, trying to shake off the lingering frustration. I needed to focus, to think clearly about the next steps in our negotiations, but instead, all I could think about was her-her challenging gaze, the way she walked into every room like she owned it, and how she seemed to derive some twisted pleasure from pushing me to my limits.

Finally, I headed to my room. The suite was dark and quiet, offering the peace I desperately needed, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside me. I tossed my jacket onto the nearest chair and poured myself a glass of scotch, hoping the alcohol would dull the edge of my thoughts.

But even as I stood there, staring out at the city skyline, my mind kept drifting back to her. I couldn't figure her out. One moment she was the perfect assistant-efficient, sharp, always one step ahead. The next, she was a force of nature, disrupting everything in her path with a single look or a well-placed remark.

I had always prided myself on my control, my ability to stay focused, no matter what. But Nova was making it increasingly difficult to maintain that control. And I hated it.

The scotch burned as it went down, a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in my head. I needed to get a grip, to remind myself that she was just an employee. Yes, an infuriatingly clever and provocative one, but still just an employee. I couldn't let her get under my skin like this.

I finished my drink and set the glass down with more force than necessary. It wasn't just her; it was the entire day. The meetings had been grueling, and I had the distinct feeling that the clients were more interested in Nova than in what I had to say. That thought grated on me, the idea that they might not be taking this seriously, that they could be playing games of their own.

With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to push those thoughts away. I needed sleep. Tomorrow was another day, another round of negotiations, and I couldn't afford to be distracted. I'd deal with Nova-and with whatever game those clients were playing-in the morning.