CHAPTER 17 — THE NIGHT HE LET HIS GUARD DOWN
Eva hadn't expected Derek to actually show up at her door.
Not after the way he'd watched her earlier—jaw locked, eyes burning with some emotion he refused to name. She had spent hours trying to read him, only to give up when her thoughts became a maze she couldn't escape.
So when she opened her apartment door and found him standing there, she felt her heartbeat lift into her throat.
He wasn't dressed like the terrifying billionaire who moved boardrooms with a word.
He wore a black fitted shirt, sleeves rolled up, expensive watch glinting faintly. Relaxed, but powerful. Dangerous. Beautiful.
"Ready?" His voice carried a low warmth that made her knees feel unreliable.
"For… what exactly?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"Our first night out together," he said simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Her breath caught.
He remembered.
Earlier, she had jokingly complained that he was "too serious for his own good" and needed to have fun. She hadn't expected him to take her seriously.
Derek's mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Unless you're backing out?"
She lifted her chin. "I never back out."
"Good," he murmured. "I don't like it when you run from me."
The way he said run made her pulse race.
---
The car ride was a strange blend of awkward tension and magnetic pull.
Every time their shoulders brushed, she felt heat crawl across her skin.
Every time she caught him watching her, she looked away too fast, then cursed herself internally.
"Why are you nervous?" he asked without looking at her.
"I'm not."
"You are."
His voice dipped. "I can hear it in your breathing."
She crossed her legs. "Maybe you're imagining things."
"No," he said softly. "I only imagine things when I want them."
Her breath hitched.
He didn't elaborate.
He didn't need to.
---
He took her to a rooftop lounge—soft lights, distant city glow, low music, people laughing over fancy cocktails. Not Derek's usual cold, elite atmosphere.
She gave him a suspicious look. "You picked this place?"
His gaze swept over her slowly, appreciatively. "You said I needed to relax."
She raised an eyebrow. "So you're taking direction from me now?"
"Only when it amuses me."
She laughed before she could stop herself.
The sound made something soften in his expression.
He wasn't smiling, not exactly.
But something in his eyes warmed… like he was letting himself feel something he normally kept locked away.
---
They found a private corner overlooking the city.
"Why did you really bring me out?" she asked.
He leaned back, one arm draped over the seat, looking unfairly good. "Because you look like you haven't laughed in a long time."
Her lips parted.
That answer was too honest. Too real.
"And," he added, "because I wanted to see you outside the shadows."
"What shadows?"
"My world," he said simply.
The words hit her harder than she expected.
A confession. A warning. Both.
Before she could answer, someone approached—the waiter, smiling.
"Drinks?"
Derek looked at her. "You choose."
She blinked. "You don't strike me as someone who lets other people decide for him."
"I don't," he said. "But I want to know what you think I'd like."
That was… intimate.
"Whiskey," she said. "Neat. No ice."
The waiter nodded and left.
Derek's gaze stayed on her, unreadable.
"You watch me closely," he murmured.
"You're hard not to watch."
The air shifted.
Charged.
Hot.
Dangerous.
"Eva." His voice was low, warning—yet wanting.
She swallowed. "Yes?"
He didn't touch her.
He didn't need to.
"You have no idea what you do to me."
Her pulse thudded in her ears.
"What do I do to you?" she whispered.
He leaned in, stopping just inches away.
Heat radiated from him.
His breath brushed her cheek.
"You make me forget the rules I built my life around," he said. "That is… inconvenient."
Her chest tightened. "For you?"
"For both of us."
Just then, a gust of wind swept across the rooftop, making her dress cling to her legs. Derek's eyes darkened as he watched her shiver.
"Cold?" he murmured.
"A little."
He shrugged off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
It was warm. Heavy. Smelled like him.
Her entire body flushed.
"You do realize," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "you're being extremely charming right now, right?"
"I don't do charming," he said.
Pause.
"Not unless I want something."
"What do you want, Derek?"
His jaw tightened for a moment, like he was fighting himself.
Then—
"You."
The music, the laughter, the world around them blurred.
He looked at her like she was a decision he had already made.
A dangerous one.
---
Before she could answer, a shadow moved near the entrance of the lounge.
A man—half-hidden, but watching them.
Eva froze.
Not a waiter.
Not a guest.
Someone out of place.
Derek saw him too.
His body changed instantly, tension snapping through him like a pulled wire.
The warmth he'd shown her minutes ago vanished.
"Don't look at him," he murmured.
His voice was steel now. Deadly calm.
"Eva… stay close to me."
Her heart kicked hard.
"Who is he?" she whispered.
Derek's hand found her waist. Firm. Protective. Possessive.
"Someone who shouldn't be here."
"What does he want?"
Derek didn't answer.
Because the man took a step closer.
Then another.
A chill broke down Eva's spine.
"Derek…" she whispered.
His eyes never left the stranger.
"We're leaving," he said. "Now."
"But—"
"Eva."
His voice was sharp enough to slice through fear.
"Do not argue with me."
He stood, pulling her to her feet.
The stranger tilted his head slightly—like a silent warning.
Or a message.
Eva's skin prickled with dread.
Derek tightened his grip on her waist and guided her toward the exit, his body tense, protective, dangerous.
The night that started with laughter and teasing had shifted into something else entirely.
Something darker.
Something coming.
---
As they reached the glass elevator, Eva looked back—
and the stranger was suddenly gone.
Like he had never been there.
But Derek's face said everything.
Whoever that man was…
he wasn't a coincidence.
And he wasn't done with them.