The Playboy's Undoing

Chapter Six –

Sophia

Alexander Knight was dangerous.

Not the kind of danger you ran from in a dark alley, but the kind you didn't see until you were already in too deep.

Every time I walked into a room with him, I felt his eyes on me. Not in the way most men looked, sizing me up like a prize, but with this... unsettling awareness. As though he noticed things I never wanted anyone to notice.

The curve of my waist when I reached for a folder. The way my hair slipped loose from its bun after a long day. The tiny scar on my wrist from when I'd tripped as a child.

He didn't comment, not directly. But his gaze lingered long enough that I knew he saw.

And I hated how part of me wanted him to keep looking.

At work, he behaved as though nothing was different. He was professional, sharp, every inch the billionaire CEO who demanded results. But between the cracks, I caught glimpses of something else.

Like when he held the door open a second longer than necessary, just enough for our arms to brush.

Or when he laughed at one of my sarcastic remarks, not the polite chuckle of a boss appeasing his employee, but a deep, unrestrained laugh that made my stomach flip.

He was supposed to be a womanizer. I reminded myself of that constantly. He was supposed to be a man who collected hearts the way others collected cufflinks.

And yet, he kept surprising me.

One evening, we were in the conference room late, reviewing presentations. My phone buzzed.

Ethan: Don't forget, Mom's expecting you this weekend.

I sighed. Alexander glanced up. "Everything okay?"

"Family dinner," I muttered. "My mom insists on them. Every Sunday."

He tilted his head. "That sounds... nice."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Nice? You strike me as the type who'd rather be anywhere but a family dinner."

His lips quirked. "Maybe. But I wouldn't mind watching you at one."

The words were light, but something in his tone wasn't. I looked back at my papers, heart pounding.

The problem wasn't that Alexander Knight was persistent. It was that he was patient.

Most men gave up the minute they realized I wasn't falling for their charm. But Alex... he didn't push. He didn't demand. He just showed up. At meetings, at events, at moments I didn't expect him to.

And somehow, he was getting closer without me realizing.

The first time I really felt it was at lunch with my best friend, Maya.

"So," she said, sipping her iced tea. "You and Mr. Knight. What's going on there?"

"Nothing," I said too quickly.

Maya raised her brows. "Right. Nothing. That explains why you just went pink in the face."

I glared. "He's my boss. That's all."

She leaned back. "Mhm. Bosses don't usually make you smile when you say their name."

I froze. "I didn't!"

"You did," she said smugly. "Soph, if you like him, it's okay. Just... don't get burned."

Her warning echoed in my head long after lunch ended.

Because she was right. I was starting to like him.

And that terrified me.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the way Alexander's gaze darkened when I laughed, or how his hand had brushed mine when he'd passed me a file.

It wasn't supposed to matter. He wasn't supposed to matter.

But against my better judgment, the fire was already smoldering.

And I was starting to wonder how much longer I could keep it contained.