Chapter 3 Ethan

She was in his office again. Less than twenty-four hours had passed, and somehow Lena Carter had managed to rearrange his carefully constructed world just by existing in it.

Ethan stood at the window, watching the city breathe beneath him. He didn't turn when she entered, but he felt her presence like static-an awareness that clung to his skin.

"I wasn't sure if you'd show," he said.

Lena's voice came from behind, steady but curious. "I told you I would. I don't walk away from a story."

Ethan glanced over his shoulder. She wore a simple navy dress that brushed her knees, a pen tucked behind one ear. Unpolished, unpretentious. Real. He'd been surrounded by high-gloss people for so long, her authenticity almost startled him.

"You came alone?" he asked.

"No assistant. No entourage." She smirked lightly. "I figured I'd survive the billionaire's lair without backup."

He liked that. Too much.

Ethan turned fully now, walking toward her with that same slow, powerful stride that had unsettled her yesterday. She didn't flinch. Instead, she lifted her chin-brave or foolish, he wasn't sure which.

"You'll be staying at my penthouse," he said flatly.

Lena blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm offering you access. I meant it. My world. My schedule. My history. It's not something you'll find in an office twice a week."

Her jaw worked. "You want me to move in?"

"I want the book to be finished in six weeks. You'll write better if you live it."

Lena crossed her arms. "Is this how you usually work with writers?"

"I don't usually work with writers." His voice dropped. "I don't usually let anyone close enough."

Their eyes locked, his guarded, hers lit with conflict. She was curious, but cautious. And yet, she didn't say no.

"Fine," Lena said, surprising even herself. "But if I'm writing your story, Mr. Wolfe, I get everything. The polished version and the parts you're trying to bury."

Ethan's expression didn't change. But something behind his eyes flickered just for a second.

"I hope you know what you're asking," he said.

"I do," Lena replied, holding his gaze. "Do you?"