Chapter 5

I arrived at the Reid Tower, the sleek, imposing monolith that served as Earl Reid's base of operations. The lobby was a symphony of chrome and black marble, cold and intimidating. But his secretary, recognizing me from past business dinners, waved me through without a word.

Earl's office was the polar opposite of Damian's. Where Damian's penthouse was opulent and designed to impress, Earl's office was functional, almost spartan. It was the workspace of a man who cared about results, not appearances.

He was sitting behind his desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of him. He looked different from the last time I'd seen him. The easy-going charm he displayed at social functions was gone, replaced by a mask of cool, detached focus. He was, in his own way, just as formidable as Damian.

His head was bent over a document, his brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't look up as I entered.

"Leave it on the table," he said, his voice flat, assuming I was a servant.

His assistant quietly closed the door behind me, leaving us alone. The silence was heavy.

I hesitated, the pastry box feeling foolishly light in my hands. "Mr. Reid?"

He looked up, and for a moment, his eyes, a startlingly clear shade of gray, were completely blank. Then, recognition dawned, and his expression shifted. The hard lines of his face softened almost imperceptibly.

"Alexa," he said, his voice losing its harsh edge. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I brought you something," I stammered, placing the box on his desk. "From Brooklyn Mckinney. She, uh, wanted to apologize for... this morning."

Earl's gaze dropped to the box, then rose back to my face. He didn't seem surprised, or even interested. Instead, his eyes fixed on something else. He stood up, and my heart leaped into my throat. He was going to dismiss me. My mission was a failure before it had even begun.

He walked around the desk, and I braced myself for the rejection. I started babbling, trying to salvage the situation. "She's very sorry, she hopes you'll come to the gala, she really wants to-"

He didn't walk past me. He stopped right in front of me. In his hand was a small, velvet box.

He was so close I could smell the clean, crisp scent of his shirt.

"Here," he said, holding the box out to me.

I stared at it, confused. "What is this?"

"A gift."

"For Brooklyn?" I asked, my mind racing. Was this part of their strange courtship?

He didn't answer. He simply opened the box. Nestled inside was a delicate white gold bracelet, adorned with a single, flawless blue diamond that seemed to capture the light and hold it hostage. It was exquisite. More beautiful, even, than the necklace Damian had given me.

"It's for you," he said softly.

I was so stunned I couldn't move. He took the bracelet from the box, his fingers brushing mine as he did. A strange jolt, like static electricity, shot up my arm. He gently took my wrist and fastened the bracelet. It felt cool against my skin.

I remembered then. He'd sent a gift once before, a pair of diamond earrings, after a particularly tense negotiation between him and Damian that I had helped to mediate. I had assumed it was a formal business gesture, a thank you for my role. Damian had been furious, accusing Earl of trying to poach his "most valuable asset." I'd returned the earrings immediately.

Now, looking at the cool, clear gray of his eyes, I wasn't so sure.

"Will you be at the Mckinney gala?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, forcing myself back to the mission.

He cut me off, his gaze intense. "Will you be there?"

I was so taken aback by the directness of the question, by the focus in his eyes, that I could only nod mutely.

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features from severe to devastatingly handsome. "Then I'll be there."

My heart did a strange, unfamiliar flip in my chest. It was a warmth I hadn't felt in years, a tiny flicker of light in the darkness. It terrified me.

I turned and fled his office without another word, the little bell on the bracelet tinkling softly with every panicked step.

I practically ran out of the building, my composure shattered. As I burst through the main doors onto the street, I collided with a hard chest.

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

It was Damian. He gripped my arms to steady me, his face etched with a strange, frantic urgency. "Are you okay? Did he touch you? Did he do anything?"

His eyes, wild and possessive, scanned my body, and then they stopped. They locked onto the delicate bracelet on my wrist.

The warmth on his face vanished, replaced by a thunderous, terrifying darkness. His entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat.

"What," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, "is that?"

I flinched. "It's... a gift. From Mr. Reid."

His grip on my arms tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh like talons. With a swift, violent motion, he ripped the bracelet from my wrist. The delicate chain snapped, and the beautiful blue diamond clattered to the pavement.

"Agh!" I cried out as the sharp edges of the broken clasp scraped my skin, drawing blood.

Damian didn't even look at me. He barked an order to one of his men standing nearby. "Find out what this is. Buy ten of them. Send them to Earl Reid's office with a note."

He turned back to me, his eyes blazing with a fury that was all the more terrifying for its coldness. He grabbed my bleeding wrist, pulling me close.

"My woman," he snarled, his voice a venomous whisper, "doesn't wear gifts from other men."