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She sits up completely and presses her body against mine, her arms sliding behind my neck as she kisses me with wild, consuming passion.

“I’m completely gone for you, Ethan,” she whispers against my lips, surrendering entirely. “And this terrifies me.”

FORTY-ONE

Thalia

“I need this venue, Thalia,” Jessica says, clearly frustrated. “It’s perfect for my couple.”

She paces back and forth in front of my desk, phone clutched tightly in her hand, her black ponytail bouncing with every sharp turn she makes.

Besides being my assistant, she handles all the events I physically can’t manage anymore. Ever since Irina started sending me new events every two or three days—each one requiring my personal oversight—everything else has been split between Jessica and the rest of the team.

We’re twenty-six event planners now, and the number keeps growing. Since Hartho acquired us, the requests have gotten bigger—celebrities, politicians, actors, high-profile businesspeople. Normal events are no longer an option; there simply aren’t enough hours in a day. Even working nonstop wouldn’t suffice. We’ve opened two new positions and are in the middle of recruitment.

All changes go through Irina. Nothing related to our branch ever reaches Ethan. We’re probably the smallest company he’s ever bought, which is exactly why he doesn’t bother with us. But that’s fine—I can work with Irina.

The more I get to know her, the more I understand why Ethan keeps her so close. She’s brilliant, resourceful, calm even in crises, and always has a backup plan in her pocket.

But that doesn’t mean we’ll ever be friends. Every time I see her, I can’t stop imagining her with Ethan—in that moment at the gala, seconds away from having sex when I walked in on them. The image is carved into my mind like a brand I can’t scrub off, no matter how hard I try.

So yes, I tolerate her. I collaborate with her. But that’s where it ends. Just like with Jessica.

When Irina told me I’d be the new manager of the event firm, she also said I needed to choose an assistant. I know my team well, and Jessica was the obvious choice. We’ve worked together before, and I’ve always admired her style—subtle, elegant touches that elevate an event without screaming for attention. She deserved the promotion.

And each day confirms I made the right decision. She helps with everything, handles tasks alone when needed, and I can rely on her to finish what she starts.

“We’ll fix it in a moment,” I reassure her. “Send me the event details, and give me five more minutes.”

I’m certain I can secure the location; I’ve organized countless events there, and the owner has never turned down a request from me.

“Really?” she gasps, instantly brightening. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She starts bouncing like a child, then leans over my desk and pulls me into a hug, which, of course, gives the men around here a perfect excuse to shamelessly stare at her ass. Typical.

Still glowing, she pulls back and practically hops to her desk, dropping into her chair. She’s definitely sending me the info right now, probably at triple speed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Irina rising from her desk and walking toward Ethan’s office. Something ordinary. Something that probably happens seven, maybe ten times a day.

Something that shouldn’t bother me… but it does. Because too often, these little meetings of theirs involve the privacy system activating, the windows darkening, sealing them inside.

And no matter how many times I tell myself nothing is happening in there, I still catch myself watching her when she walks out, scanning her from head to toe. Searching for signs, for a wrinkle in her clothes, for slightly messy hair, for anything—anything—that confirms what my mind can’t stop imagining.

Two weeks have passed since I first slept at his place, since we went out to the club—where we arrived together, but kept as much distance as possible. I’m sure everyone noticed we arrived at the same time, but no one said a word.

We laughed, joked, danced. I even convinced Ethan to join me for a dance. And even though Irina was there, Ethan didn’t interact with her at all. He was completely focused on me, maybe a little too much.

He seized every opportunity to kiss me, to touch me. He pulled me behind a false wall by the hallway near the bathroom and kissed me for at least five minutes, whispering that he couldn’t control himself around me. I kissed him back just as passionately, because I can’t control myself around him either.

Since then, I’ve spent almost every night at his place. We’ve gone out to dinners, had a few lunches together. I only stayed at Theo’s when he needed to remain at his apartment because of late work, and in the morning he had meetings at the crack of dawn. I still don’t know what’s between us, and I’m scared to ask and hear that it’s just sex.

Fortunately, all the guys have been busy during this period, so we haven’t run into each other much. I don’t know how to act around Ethan in front of them, what to say, what he thinks of the whole situation, or what he expects from me in public.

But I’m certain Theo has noticed that I haven’t been sleeping at home much lately. I’m just as sure Sierra has realized something is happening with me, considering I haven’t talked to her as often and haven’t spent all my free time with her and Serena the way I used to. And I’m convinced the guys all have something to say about the way Ethan practically carried me out of that police station.

So for all that, I’m grateful that everyone has been so busy and that we haven’t all been in the same room since then.

What I’m not grateful for is that, in the last few days, Ethan has become increasingly occupied. He hasn’t come home for about four nights, and our only interactions were at the office, if we happened to cross paths in the hallway. He hasn’t called me into his office, hasn’t sent me a single message, and I… I knew this was how this would unfold, so I shouldn’t have been surprised.