Chapter 52: Prove

Chapter 52: Prove
Chapter 52: Prove

EVANGELINE

I swallow hard, my entire body going on alert as I turn to face him. Then, blue eyes are on me, making me forget how to breathe properly.

They no longer seem so cold. And the effect is exactly the opposite, spreading warmth across my skin. The slow way they travel over my body, making my burgundy silk dress feel far too thin, makes me want to run, but also stay.

"Hi..." I say when his gaze meets mine again.

He simply keeps staring at me in silence, as if he takes pleasure in prolonging my suffering. Not even the hint of a smile.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.

"I was waiting for you," he says at last.

"You were?"

"Why the surprise?"

"You say that as if you were certain I would come."

"You're here."

"Yeah... I am."

"And in case you're considering running away... you should know the house is surrounded by security."

Wait... was that flirting?

I can’t hide my surprise.

"Aleksander Volkov knows how to make jokes?" I tease.

"That wasn’t a joke," he says, his gaze locked on mine.

My lips threaten to curve into a smile as the tension grows, weighing down the air around us.

For a moment, my eyes fall to his lips, and then the memory returns.

The feeling of them...

My throat goes dry.

His body...

Damn it.

I swallow hard, looking away as I try to push the memories aside.

"Actually, I wasn’t sure if I should come. Your invitation left me a little confused."

"Why?"

"Well, it seems I arrived a little late," I explain, turning to observe the remaining guests in the room ahead.

"No. You arrived at the right time."

I meet his gaze again.

"For what?"

"We have time. Don’t rush."

"That’s not an answer."

Suddenly, he steps closer, making my body tense.

"Come," he says, stopping beside me, one hand resting against my back.

I force myself to try to ignore the touch and his sophisticated, masculine scent wrapping around me as he guides me toward the staircase on the right.

There’s something so disturbingly intense about the scent. Something warm and dark that feels almost like a warning of danger.

When I reach the first step, his touch disappears, replaced by the weight of his gaze on my back as we climb.

On the upper level, he stops at the mezzanine above the hall. Surrounded by dark wooden railings, the space offers a full view of the room below.

But my eyes are still more interested in the structure above as I follow him to the center.

"It’s a beautiful house you have here," I say, stopping beside him, my eyes still on the glass arch above our heads.

"What was it like going back to yours?" he asks, capturing my attention.

"It was a little hard to sleep last night, but I’ll survive."

"Don’t worry, no one will get close without me knowing."

"But it’s not like you could get there in time," I point out.

"Trust me."

That’s what I’ve been doing.

"Anyway, I can’t stop my life because of this."

Leaving me without a response, he turns toward the railing and makes a subtle gesture to someone downstairs.

"I’ll admit the last few nights have been a little difficult for me too," he says, surprising me.

"Why?" I ask, even though I have my suspicions.

He turns back to me again.

"You know. You were there," he says, and the intensity in his gaze makes me want to run.

I do my best to block out the memory.

I didn’t expect him to mention that, and so directly.

"About that..."

"Excuse me." The male voice sounds behind me.

I turn to see one of the waiters standing there with a tray.

With a simple nod, Aleksander signals for him to come closer, then picks up two glasses before dismissing him.

"Thank you," I say when he hands one of the glasses to me.

"Before you continue..." He captures my gaze. "Let me say this: I saw you. So spare me any justification."

I swallow hard, feeling heat spread across my chest.

"I don’t know what you saw... but that doesn’t change the fact that it shouldn’t have happened."

"I said I don’t want justifications," he repeats, offering me that same look.

And for a moment, it’s like I’m back to the day I met him.

"Turn off the recorder."

"Give me that."

It’s still irritating.

Maybe that look worked back then, but now, even if it still intimidates me, I refuse to back down.

"I know you must be used to having things your way, but it’s not going to work with me."

"As always, running away won’t help."

"I’m not running away."

"Then prove it."

"Prove it?" I blink, confused.

He holds my gaze for a moment before extending his hand.

"Come with me."

I stare at his hand.

"Where?"

"To understand."

"What do you mean?"

"You’ll have to come to find out."

I hesitate, my gaze moving between his eyes and his outstretched hand.

I know what he’s doing, and yet I still can’t stop the way my heart races.

Even without knowing what this means, I can’t allow him to think I’m running away.

I can’t back down now.

Lifting my gaze back to his, I take his hand.