Chapter 2 NEW YEAR GIFT.

~~~SOPHIA.

The office New Year’s party was exactly what you’d expect.

Loud music and too many people pretending they actually liked their coworkers.

Normally, I’d find a corner, survive two hours, and then disappear.

But tonight was different because Alexander Grant had seen my lingerie photo.

There he was across the ballroom, standing with a group of executives, looking expensive and completely unaffected while my life actively fell apart.

I glanced up and it was a big mistake because his eyes were already on me.

I immediately looked away and took a large sip of champagne.

Avoid him, Sophia. That was the plan.

Stay on the opposite side of the room, talk to people, don’t think about the photo, and don’t fucking think about Alexander Grant.

Easy, right?

Except every time I looked up, he was still watching.

Before I could spiral any further, the DJ’s voice blasted through the speakers.

“Alright, everyone! Time for Secret Santa!”

The crowd cheered.

Great. This was corporate America’s favorite excuse to make everyone pretend they like each other.

People gathered around the table while names were passed around.

I reached into the hat and pulled out a folded slip and then I froze.

Alexander Grant.

“No.”

I looked again.

Still Alexander Grant.

Of course, because now it was apparent the universe hated me.

I glanced across the room and as if he felt it, Alexander looked up and our eyes met.

God, just kill me now.

The exchange started.

People laughed as gifts were opened.

Some got socks, chocolates, and someone got a whoopee cushion and nearly choked laughing.

Then my turn came and I forced myself forward.

“Secret Santa,” I muttered, handing him the mug I’d bought.

Alexander took it.

His fingers brushed mine briefly.

“Thanks, Sophia,” his deep voice came out and my heart immediately forgot how to function.

Before I could escape, he handed me a gift box.

It was small and elegant and before I could pull away, he whispered, “Open it later.”

His voice was low enough that only I heard it.

Then he stepped away, leaving me holding what felt like a bomb.

For the next thirty minutes, I tried to act normal but I failed because curiosity eventually won and I slipped out of the ballroom and headed into the quieter office corridor.

The moment I was alone, I opened the box and inside was a black velvet case.

Slowly, I lifted the lid and I swear I nearly died at the contents.

There was a fucking lingerie set.

A deep crimson lace with delicate straps like the exact set from the photo.

My photo, the one I had accidentally sent him.

“Oh my God.”

The words barely left my mouth and heat rushed into my face, and entire body.

This sick bastard knows and now is playing games with me.

Somehow he has remembered every detail of the lingerie.

I stared at the lace, then back at the box.

What was this?

A joke, warning, or some rich CEO version of psychological warfare?

My fingers brushed the fabric before I could stop myself.

It was soft, and even looked like the expensive version of the one I had gotten.

“What game are you playing, Alexander?”

Before I could slam the box shut and pretend none of this existed, a voice spoke behind me.

“Hey, Bunny.” I froze.

Every muscle in my body locked as I slowly turned around.

Alexander stood at the end of the corridor.

His suit jacket was gone, his tie was slightly loosened and his expression was calm.

Meanwhile, I was seconds away from cardiac arrest.

His gaze dropped briefly to the box in my hands before returning to my face.

Then one corner of his mouth lifted. “Let’s talk.”

My heart pounded as I followed Alexander down the corridor.

The noise of the party faded behind us. I tightened my grip on the velvet box and tried not to think about what was inside.

His broad shoulders moved ahead of me, his suit jacket hugging his frame just right, and I couldn't help but notice how the fabric stretched over his back.

God, why was I even thinking about that now?

My mind raced with images I shouldn't have, his hands on me, strong and sure, peeling away layers.

No. Focus, Sophia.

This was my boss, the man who'd seen me half-naked by accident, and now he was leading me to his office like it was no big deal.

We reached the door at the end of the hall, his private space, always off-limits to the rest of us peons. He pushed it open without a word, holding it for me. I stepped inside, the scent of leather and his cologne hitting me first, warm and masculine.

He followed, shutting the door with a firm click. Then the lock turned sharply, which made my stomach flip.

“I… I am so sorry,” I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other before I could stop them.

“That photo, it was a mistake. I meant to send it to s… someone else after talking to my friend, and my finger slipped. Please, don't fire me. I know it's inappropriate, and you're my boss, and I get it if you want to report it or something. I will delete it from your phone if you let me, or pretend it never happened. Just... please.”

I paced a little, my heels sinking into the plush rug, heat rising to my cheeks.

What if he thought I was hitting on him? Or worse, that I was some desperate slut?

Alexander just stood there, leaning against his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes watched me, calm as ever, that unreadable mask firmly in place. No anger in his jaw, and no disgust curling his lips. Just patience, like he was waiting for a storm to pass.

“Sophia,” he said softly, his voice cutting through my spiral like a gentle hand on my shoulder. He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Stop.”

I froze, breath hitching. His tone wasn't sharp like I was used to. It was soothing, and almost tender. I looked up, searching his face for the trap, but there was none.

“I know it was an accident,” he continued, low and even. “A slip of the thumb. It happens.”

Relief washed over me, sudden and sweet, loosening the knot in my chest. My shoulders sagged, and I let out a shaky laugh. “Really? You're not... mad?”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching up just a fraction. “Not angry at all. If anything, it was... intriguing.”

Intriguing? Confusion swirled in my mind, mixing with the relief. What did that mean? My pulse quickened again, but not from fear this time. Something warmer stirred low in my belly, a flicker of heat that made my thighs press together.

Did he like it? The photo of me, lace barely covering my skin, and my body arched in that mirror? I imagined him staring at it on his phone, alone in his room, and his hand drifting lower... Stop.

This was dangerous, Sophia.

Before I could ask, a soft beep echoed from the door panel. Then another, followed by a red light flashing above the lock. Alexander glanced at it, unfazed, while I spun toward the sound.

“What was that?” I asked, edging closer to the door.

He didn't move. “Midnight. The system is engaged.”

My brows furrowed. “System? What system?”

“Security protocol,” he explained, still calm, like we were discussing the weather. “After hours, especially on holidays, the building locks down. No one gets in or out of the authorized areas until morning.'’

Morning? Panic surged back, hot and sharp.

“Wait, we're stuck? Here? All night?” I grabbed the handle, twisting it hard. It didn't budge. I yanked again, harder, my palm slipping on the cool metal.

“No, no, this can't… Let me out! I need to get home!”

I rattled the door, desperation building, and my mind spinning with worst-case scenarios.

Trapped with him in his office till morning?

Oh, please.

What if someone noticed we were gone?

Or worse, what if they didn't?

“Hey,” His voice was low now, closer. I felt him behind me before I saw him.

One hand rested lightly on my arm, steadying me. “Bunny…”

That nickname again.

Why the fuck does he keep calling me that?

It sent a shiver down my spine, regardless, and straight to my core. God, I was too shameless.

I turned slowly, my back against the door, the box still crushed in my other hand. He was right there, towering over me, his face inches from mine.

Those eyes, dark and intense, roamed my face, then lower, tracing the neckline of my dress. My nipples tightened under the fabric, traitorous and aching.

He didn't touch me further, but the air between us crackled, charged with unspoken want.

Part of me wanted to push him away, to demand he fix this.

But another part, deeper and hungrier, wondered what his hands would feel like sliding up my thighs, and pushing the dress higher.

He glanced down at the box in my grip, his gaze lingering. Then, with a nod, he gestured to it. “Put on my New Year gift.”

The words hung there, simple and commanding, igniting a fire in my veins.

Wear the fucking lingerie?

Here and now?

My mouth went dry, confusion and desire twisting together. What was happening? Why wasn't I screaming for help?

Instead, my fingers tightened on the box, pulse throbbing between my legs.

I met his eyes, the room suddenly too small, and too hot. And in that moment, trapped until dawn, I knew nothing would be the same.

Because oh boy, I wanna put on the fucking lingerie.