The Playboy's Undoing

Chapter Five

Alexander

The first time I noticed something was different, it was a Tuesday afternoon.

I was supposed to be reviewing a billion-dollar acquisition proposal, something that would normally have me energized, sharp, laser focused. Instead, I caught myself staring at the corner of my desk where her tulip email sat, printed out and tucked beneath a paperweight.

Unprofessional, she'd written. God, even her scolding was elegant.

Jeremy walked in mid-sigh, dropping a folder on my desk. "You've read this, right?"

I blinked. "Of course."

"Really? Because you're staring at flowers that aren't here."

I shot him a glare. He smirked.

By Friday, I was skipping my usual poker night with friends to review mood boards for the corporate retreat Sophia's team was planning. Mood boards. Me. The man who couldn't tell ivory from cream.

But when she spoke about it, her eyes lit up. She had this way of leaning forward, of gesturing with her hands like she was painting pictures in the air. And I found myself listening not pretending to, not nodding absently, but actually listening.

The more she talked, the less it felt like business.

And the more I realized I wanted to hear about her life outside of work.

One evening, I got my chance.

The meeting had run late, her staff had left, and it was just the two of us packing up files. She reached for her coat, but her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, hesitated, then answered.

"Hi, Mom... Yes, I'm eating... No, I'm not overworking... Ethan's fine, I saw him last week..."

Her tone softened as she listened, her lips curving into the faintest smile. Something warm tugged at my chest.

When she hung up, I said, "Your mom worries about you."

She froze, like she'd forgotten I was still there. "Everyone worries about me."

"Maybe because you're worth worrying about."

Her eyes snapped to mine. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then she slipped into her coat and said, "Goodnight, Mr. Knight."

But the flicker in her gaze haunted me the rest of the evening.

The second sign came at a family dinner.

Lila noticed before I did.

"You're quieter than usual," she said, loading her plate with roasted vegetables. "And don't tell me it's business. You live for those deals."

"I'm fine."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're smitten."

I scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why are you checking your phone every five minutes like a teenager?"

I hadn't even realized I was doing it.

Mom smiled knowingly. "Sophia again?"

I cursed under my breath.

The third sign hit me hardest.

I ran into Sophia at a café one Saturday morning. She wasn't in her usual work armor no heels, no sleek ponytail. Just jeans, sneakers, a messy bun, and glasses perched on her nose.

And she was laughing. Not the polite chuckle she gave in meetings. A real, unguarded laugh, the kind that bubbled up from her chest.

She was with a guy her brother, I realized quickly when he leaned down and said something protective in that big brother way. Still, something sharp twisted in my gut at the sight.

Jealousy.

Me. Jealous.

It was absurd. I'd never cared who the women I dated were with, never thought twice about competition. But watching Ethan sling an arm casually around her shoulders, I wanted to rip him off her until I reminded myself he was family.

She spotted me then. Our eyes met across the café.

"Mr. Knight," she said when I walked over.

"Sophia," I replied smoothly. "Out of the office, I see."

"This is my brother, Ethan."

He looked me up and down, his jaw tight. "So you're the guy chasing my sister."

I opened my mouth, but Sophia jumped in. "We work together."

Ethan didn't look convinced. "Right. Work."

For the first time in my life, I had no clever comeback. I just nodded, ordered my coffee, and left.

But the jealousy stayed with me long after.

By the time I admitted it, it was too late.

I wasn't chasing Sophia Carter to prove a point anymore.

I was chasing her because somewhere between the tulips, the late night meetings, and the sound of her laugh, she'd gotten under my skin.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure I wanted her to leave