Page 10 of Tempting My Nemesis

I drum my fingers on the desk, a rhythm echoing the keystrokes of my hacker life. "You don’t have to do this," I add, knowing full well she doesn’t have a choice.

She glares at me but says nothing. The silence stretches, thick with tension.

"You’re really going to make me sign this?" Her voice trembles, just enough to betray her nerves.

I meet her gaze, unwavering. "I’m offering you a lifeline, Ms. Archer. Take it or leave it."

Her shoulders sag slightly, defeated but resolved. She picks up the pen again, fingers trembling less this time.

As she signs her name, I can’t help but remember my parents—my father’s hand guiding mine as we signed deals together. The memory is a shard of glass in my chest, a reminder of why I can’t afford to let anyone get too close.

Zoe pushes the contract back across the desk.

"There," she says softly, her voice almost lost in the expanse of my office.

"Good," I reply, taking the contract and filing it away. "Welcome to your new reality."

She stands up abruptly, as if staying any longer would suffocate her. "What now?"

"Now," I say, standing and rounding the desk to stand close to her—too close—"we show the world what they want to see."

I step closer, narrowing the distance between us.

“For starters, it’s no more Mr. Steele and Ms. Archer. From here on out, it's Caleb and Zoe.”

She takes a step back but holds her ground otherwise. There’s fire in her eyes again; it’s almost admirable.

Her eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of defiance mingling with her unease.

"You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?"

"I have to." I lean forward, emphasizing the gravity of our situation. "My reputation depends on it. And now, so does yours."

She sighs, and I see her posture slump just slightly. I see the vulnerability that she’s trying to hide. It tugs at something deep inside me—a part I keep buried.

I stand and walk to the private meeting room attached to my office. Zoe follows reluctantly. The room is minimalist yet luxurious—just like everything else in Steele Tower. I open a wardrobe filled with designer clothes, each piece meticulously chosen for its potential to project power and sophistication.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the rows of clothes. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," I say simply, pulling out a sleek black dress. "Appearances matter in this world. People will scrutinize every move we make."

She hesitates before taking the dress from me, her fingers brushing mine briefly. Her touch is electric, sending a jolt through me that I quickly suppress.

"You’ll wear this tonight at the charity gala," I continue. "We need to show unity and strength."

She looks down at the dress, biting her lip. "This isn’t me."

"It’s what you need to be for now." My tone is firm but not unkind. "This is about survival—for both of us."

Zoe’s green eyes meet mine, searching for something—maybe reassurance or understanding—but I give nothing away. She needs to understand that this is business.

As she turns away to examine the dress more closely, I catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror behind her. She looks lost, out of place in this world of luxury and calculation.

I step closer, the urge to bridge the distance between us almost overwhelming. The way her fingers smooth over the soft fabric ignites something primal within me—a possessive instinct I never thought I’d entertain. She doesn’t belong to anyone but me. Not now. Not ever.

“Zoe,” I say, my voice low and commanding.

She meets my gaze with those vivid green eyes, a mix of uncertainty and defiance swirling within them. The air thickens between us, an unspoken acknowledgment of the magnetic pull drawing us together.

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