The next day, Ethan wasn't expecting her—of all places—to be standing in the private elevator when he was heading to a critical meeting.
"Mr. Vale," she said, deadpan. "Trying to escape your fans?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. How did she even know his name? Not that it mattered. "And you are?"
"Someone who doesn't believe billionaires should be worshipped," she said, rolling her eyes.
He leaned back against the elevator wall, intrigued despite himself. "Bold."
"And you think arrogance is attractive?" Her tone was almost mocking.
Ethan smirked. She didn't know it yet, but she had walked into his orbit. And he was a man who never let anyone leave once they had entered.
The elevator jolted, stuck between floors. Panic flitted across her face, tiny but noticeable.
"I don't do small talk," she said.
"Good," he murmured. Because the way her pulse hit her neck, the way her defiance didn't falter even when fear crept in… he wanted more. He wanted all of her.
And he knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning of a war neither of them would win…