Page 34 of The CEO

We pause before a painting depicting a garden scene with dark, subtle undertones. Bright, beautiful flowers bloom in the foreground, accompanied by a shadowy figure lurking at one edge. “Particularly when it contains elements of darkness.”

He’s right behind me, the warmth of his chest barely brushing against my back. I study the painting and note that in the center, a tree hangs heavy with fruit.

“The Garden of Eden,” I whisper.

“Fitting, isn’t it, Eve?” I glance up at him, and the way he’s looking at me sends a shiver down my spine—not entirely from fear. “The duality fascinates me.” His eyes stay on me, dropping down to settle where I can feel my pulse throbbing in my neck. He reaches his fingers out, gently pressing a couple fingertips against my pulse. “Beauty and danger. Darkness and light. Good and evil.” I swallow as he drags a finger along my shoulder blade. “Often inseparable.”

Glancing down the hallway, I point toward a large ornate metal door. “What’s in there?”

He looks up, his finger dropping away from my skin. “Storage.” He grabs my hand, leading me further down the corridor. Something about his reaction tells me a different story. That door hides something much more important than storage.

When we get to the end of the corridor, we enter a small elevator that opens into a connecting glass hallway.

“None of my guests ever see this side of Eden,” Damien says as he unlocks the door with a key from his pocket rather than a keypad like the rest of the rooms. “I find their appreciation of the beauty in rarity completely lacking.”

The warm greenhouse air hits me immediately. It’s humid and heavy with an earthy scent. But unlike the cheerful community greenhouses I’ve been to in the past, this space carries a different energy. The plants surrounding us don’t offer bright and friendly blooms with familiar forms. They twist and curl in an almost alien-like configuration, their colors deep and dark.

“Welcome to my sanctuary.” He watches my reaction carefully, just like he does every time. It puts me on edge—making me feel like an innocent antelope being stalked by a lion. “Some of these are the rarest botanical specimens in the world. Some are even extinct in the wild.”

I move deeper into the flourishing space, suddenly aware of the sensual nature surrounding me. A blood-red flower unfurls before my eyes, its petals splayed open in invitation.

“This is remarkable.” I can’t hide the admiration in my voice. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Few have. This section contains plants so rare, their very existence is regulated by international law. This one,” he gestures to an otherworldly bloom, the pride evident in his voice, “is a ghost orchid.” He points to another flower. “This is the very rare night-blooming cereus. It only blooms once a year, in June.”

“And these?” I ask, indicating a section of plants with unusually structured leaves behind separate glass partitions.

“That is a poison garden.” His tone shifts slightly.

“Poison garden?” I repeat, curious. I reach my hand out toward one in particular that catches my eye, but before I even come close, Damien’s hand is on mine.

“Don’t!” he barks, startling me. “They’re toxic to the touch. Beautiful, but lethal.” He moves closer to me, his tone and touch softening as he slowly drags his hand up my arm, pushing back a strand of hair from my face. “Like certain people . . . Now, this one,” he says, his finger hovering near but not touching a curved vine with purple veins, “is particularly fascinating. It secretes a toxin that paralyzes its prey, keeping them alive but completely helpless as it slowly consumes them.”

His eyes meet mine and I can’t help but wonder if he’s still talking about the plant, or if there’s another meaning lurking beneath his words. The vine curls around its supporting rod in a sensuous embrace, reminding me of how his arm had encircled my waist earlier.

Nearby, what appears to be an innocent white flower catches my attention. Its center contains a slick substance that catches the light.

“Beautiful but deadly,” Damien murmurs, his breath warm against my ear as he leans in close. “This one lures insects with its scent and appearance. They land, thinking they’ve found paradise, only to discover too late that they’re trapped.”

His finger traces the air just above my bare shoulder, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin as he reaches up and pushes a tendril of hair away. “Nature’s most effective predators are the ones that seduce their prey . . . and the prey step willingly into their trap.”

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, all pretense falls away. His eyes search mine in that calculated manner that reminds me of his control. It feels predatory, like he’s trying to find the most easily-accessible weak point to bring me down. And yet, I don’t look away. It’s like I can’t—like I want him to destroy me in the most intense way.

“Is that how you see yourself?” I ask him, refusing to look away despite his focused gaze. “Beautiful but deadly?”

“I see myself as necessary. Just like these plants, I serve a purpose in the ecosystem. One most people prefer not to acknowledge, but benefit from nonetheless.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“Balance.” He lifts his hand, his fingers hovering near my face as he steps closer to me. “Nature doesn’t recognize human concepts of morality, Eve. It simply enforces consequences. I do the same.”

The implication hangs between us, as heavy as the greenhouse air. He brushes another curl away from my face. Damien isn’t just confessing to being dangerous—he’s admitting that he takes justice into his own hands, even outside the bounds of human laws.

“Does that scare you?” His lips hover so close to mine. Excitement pulses through my body so fiercely, I’m certain it’s going to consume me.

The space between us pulses with electricity. I can feel his breath against my lips, warm and steady despite the tension crackling between us. My body betrays me completely . . . nipples hardening beneath my dress, a slick heat building between my thighs. I watch as his pupils dilate, nearly eclipsing the dark brown of his irises. His chest rises and falls faster now, the controlled rhythm from earlier abandoned as something primal takes over.

His hand slides up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing across my lower lip before pressing it just enough that the tip of his finger drags against the slick inside of my lip. The small touch sends a violent shiver down my spine, my back arching slightly, involuntarily pushing my breasts closer to his chest.

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