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Of course, at that exact beat, the music switched and she dropped into a perfect split with her back to me. Her ass on full display—for me and for all my brothers, my friends, my employees.

When she finished and stepped off toward the stairs, I realized my plans for the evening needed adjusting.

I cut across to Irina without stopping. “Irina, Sofia from Finance. She won the contest.” I don’t wait for a reaction beyond a nod. “You’ll handle the speech.” That’s all I say before I start to move away.

I keep my eyes on Thalia as she slips through the crowd, heading for the bathroom, probably to change, I tell myself.

I pull back into a dim corner near the entrance and wait. Thirty seconds later she comes out with the same outfit that’s been fucking with me, a backpack over one shoulder.

So she wanted to provoke me… publicly. Maybe most people didn’t pick up on it. Maybe they didn’t notice. But I did. And she thinks she can slip away? No chance, doll.

“Are you in a hurry?” I catch her as she passes, voice flat but low.

She startles, one hand flying to her chest instinctively. Then she turns toward me, mouth already opening to dodge. “I… yes. I’ve done what I needed to do here, so…”

I laugh, short and dark. Just for a beat. Then my hand is on her wrist—firm, quick—and I pull her against me.

The room narrows until it’s only the press of our bodies and the little frantic rhythm of our breaths. Close enough that my voice is a hiss in her ear. “Your work here is only beginning, Thalia.”

I don’t flirt. I don’t joke. So I tug her along, moving her through the crowd. My decision’s made—there are plans for tonight, and they start with her.

The lobby is silent when I drag her with me, my grip locked around her wrist like a band.

Everyone else is still inside, listening to Irina’s speech—her calm, professional voice floating through the speakers, thanking the staff, praising their efforts, assuring them that Hartho couldn’t have been prouder of them. Her words are polished, diplomatic, exactly the kind of speech I would’ve given. That’s why she’s my assistant—she makes my life easier, even when I’m not there.

But right now, my focus is elsewhere. On the woman struggling against my hold.

I swipe my hand across the palm scanner, and the private elevator doors slide open with a metallic sigh. Only Sierra, my brothers, and I have access here. This is my territory, my sanctuary.

The space swallows us whole the second we step inside, the doors sliding shut, cutting off the distant applause and speeches. Silence falls like a blanket.

Except it’s not silence. It’s her breathing—fast, uneven, like she’s been running.

She jerks against my hold, finally snapping out, almost screaming. “What the hell are you doing?”

I turn slowly, my body moving until I’m facing her, my free hand planting against the panel—blocking her escape. I lean closer, watching her retreat step by step, her back pressing against the mirrored wall.

Her reflection trembles along with her body, like she can’t control it.

“Little late to ask that, don’t you think?” My voice drops lower as I close the gap, so close I can feel her breath brushing against my mouth.

I angle my knee between her thighs, forcing her legs apart, claiming space. With one hand, I lift her chin, making her meet my eyes. “The real question is—what the hell are you wearing, Thalia?”

Her lips part, but before she can form words, I dip closer, brushing my mouth near her ear, letting my breath ghost across her skin.

She shivers. Good.

My hands slide down, gripping her waist firmly. “Did you choose this outfit on purpose… to drive me insane?”

Before either of us can move or say anything else, the elevator doors slide open with a soft chime. Without thinking, I grab her wrist again, leading her out and straight into the living room of my apartment.

Each of us has an apartment in the Hartho building, a full floor to ourselves. Mine is at the top, and above sits the helicopter pad. We designed these apartments to save us when meetings run late into the night or start at dawn. Plus, this is where we all lived before the houses were finished.

“Why did you bring me here, Ethan?” Thalia demands, finally managing to pull free, taking advantage of a momentary lapse in my focus. But she’s already where I wanted her, so I let go of her hand completely.

I keep my back to her for a beat, exhaling slowly, then turn with a purposeful smile curling on my lips. “I brought you here to ask for one night, Thalia.”

Her eyes widen, her lips part, her expression caught somewhere between disgust, resentment… and desire.