CHAPTER 19 — THE MOMENT HE CAUGHT HER
The metallic clang still echoed in Eva's mind long after Derek pulled her into the car and drove out of the garage.
Her heart hadn't stopped racing.
Not from fear.
From everything.
Isabella.
The warning.
Derek's hand gripping hers too tightly.
The shadows watching.
But as they reached the glowing city streets, Derek's tension slowly loosened—just enough for Eva to breathe.
The night outside was loud and alive, but inside the car, silence wrapped around them like a fragile thread.
"You okay?" Derek asked finally, his voice softer than she expected.
Eva nodded, though her hands trembled slightly in her lap. "Just… processing."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, jaw tight. "You shouldn't have been dragged into this."
"I chose to be here," she whispered.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened, like her words both soothed and hurt him.
Minutes passed in quiet tension.
Finally, Derek exhaled.
"We'll stop somewhere. You need a break."
---
He pulled into a rooftop lounge—quiet, soft lights, a panoramic view of the city.
Nothing like the loud, flashy place they'd been earlier.
Something more intimate.
More private.
They walked side by side toward the railing, the cool night air brushing Eva's skin.
The city glittered beneath them like it was breathing.
She felt Derek watching her more than the skyline.
But just when she opened her mouth to speak, her heel caught on the uneven stone tile.
Her ankle twisted.
"Ah—!"
She stumbled forward—
The railing rushed toward her—
Her balance vanished—
—and then a strong arm wrapped around her waist, stopping her inches before disaster.
"Careful."
Derek's voice was low, almost a growl.
Her breath hitched.
Because he didn't just catch her.
He pulled her fully against him.
Chest to chest.
Heat to heat.
His hand stayed on her lower back, fingers pressing into her, steadying her even after she was no longer falling.
"Are you hurt?" he murmured.
Eva shook her head, suddenly breathless. "No… I just—my shoe—"
Derek bent without warning, sliding his hand down her calf, steady and sure.
She gasped at the contact.
He lifted her foot gently, fixing the strap on her heel with slow, deliberate movements.
Like he'd done it before.
Like he had every right to touch her this way.
The world shrank to the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his fingers brushing her skin.
When he stood again, they were too close—dangerously close.
Eva swallowed. "Thanks."
"You don't have to thank me for catching you."
His thumb brushed her waist.
"It's instinct."
The honesty in his voice made her chest tighten.
But then—
"Eva?" someone called.
They both turned.
A group of her coworkers had come up the stairs from the lower level—people from her department.
People who absolutely could not see her wrapped in Derek Blackwell's arms.
Her stomach dropped.
Her face flushed.
"Oh no," she whispered.
Derek understood instantly.
She tried to pull away, but Derek reacted first—smooth, confident—turning them so her coworkers couldn't see his hand on her waist.
But in her panic to step back from him, Eva knocked into a tall crystal lamp standing near the railing.
It wobbled.
Tilted.
Fell—
Eva panicked and reached for it, but that made it worse.
The lamp clattered to the ground, spinning and skidding across the floor with a loud, humiliating crash.
Heads turned.
People stared.
Eva flushed all the way to her ears.
Oh God. Oh God. Not now.
Her coworkers approached, eyebrows raised, whispers already forming.
Mortifying.
Absolutely mortifying.
But before she could shrink from the embarrassment, Derek did something that shocked her to her core.
He stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on her back.
"Are you okay?" he asked loudly—clear enough for everyone to hear.
Her coworkers froze.
Because suddenly it became obvious—
The lamp hadn't fallen because she was clumsy.
It had fallen because he had bumped into her.
Derek smoothly stooped, picked up the lamp, checked it, and set it back upright.
He offered Eva a soft, reassuring look.
Apologetic.
Warm.
"I should've watched where I was going," he said.
Her coworkers blinked.
Derek Blackwell—untouchable billionaire—just took the blame for her.
Eva stared at him, stunned speechless.
Her coworkers recovered first.
"Mr. Blackwell," one said awkwardly. "We didn't know you were here."
"Neither did I," Derek replied with a polite, disarming smile. "Just needed some air."
They greeted him nervously and drifted away, whispering excitedly but not suspiciously.
Eva let out a shaky breath.
"You didn't have to do that," she whispered once they were alone again.
Derek brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Yes," he said simply. "I did."
Her heart pounded.
"And now you really need this."
He nodded toward a small private seating area with dim lighting and plush cushions.
Eva followed him, still overwhelmed by the mixture of embarrassment, relief, and the quiet protectiveness in his actions.
They sat.
Close.
Too close.
The city lights painted soft shadows over Derek's face, making him look both dangerous and gentle.
He leaned forward slightly.
"Eva," he said.
Her breath caught.
"You're not in danger because you're weak or unprepared."
His eyes held hers—steady, intense.
"You're in danger because you matter."
Her heart skipped.
"And I'm the reason you matter," he said.
Softly.
Regretfully.
Warning her and confessing at the same time.
She whispered, "Is that a bad thing?"
His jaw clenched.
"It's the one thing I didn't want to happen," he said. "But it's also the only thing I can't undo."
Her fingers trembled. "Derek…"
He reached for her hand, brushing his fingertips lightly over her knuckles.
The touch was so gentle yet so charged that she had to fight the urge to lean in.
"You could've let me fall," she said quietly. "You could've let me be embarrassed."
He shook his head once.
"Not a chance."
Her pulse fluttered.
The space between them felt like it was vibrating.
He leaned a little closer.
"Eva… you make it impossible to stay away."
Her breath hitched.
For a moment, it felt like he would kiss her—finally, completely.
But then—
His phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.
He looked down.
And his expression changed.
The warmth vanished.
Replaced by ice.
"What is it?" Eva whispered.
Derek stood instantly, tension rippling through him like a string pulled too tight.
He stepped back, scanning the rooftop instinctively.
"Stay behind me," he said quietly.
Eva's stomach dropped. "Derek—"
He cut her off with a look—sharp, protective, urgent.
Someone else was here.
Watching.
Again.
The phone buzzed a second time.
Derek read the message.
His hand tightened around the device until his knuckles went white.
"Eva," he whispered, "we need to leave. Now."