Elena Carter’s POV
He said wear red.
So, I did.
A silky red blouse, the kind that felt like sin against my skin, tucked neatly into a high-waisted black skirt. I added a hint of crimson lipstick, just enough to tempt but not scream. Red heels would’ve been too much, so I wore black pumps instead. Still, I felt… exposed. Like every step I took would echo with some secret invitation.
When I stepped off the elevator, Alexander was already in his office. As usual.
I could see him through the glass wall—leaning back in his chair, sleeves rolled, one ankle crossed over his knee. Reading something with that signature Wolfe intensity.
I didn’t knock. Just walked to my desk, booted my laptop, and tried to pretend I wasn’t waiting—wanting—for him to look up.
He did.
And when his eyes found m
