Alex Volkov wasn’t a friendly man, and the world had learned to adjust accordingly. His friends—on the rare days he tolerated their existence—his colleagues, his employees, even the women who warmed his bed for a night or two… all of them understood one rule: do not test his patience. And no one ever did.

Which was why, when Alex returned to his temporary penthouse after a long, mind-numbing day of meetings and negotiations, all he wanted was silence. A fresh cup of coffee. Maybe an hour of work from the couch before the next crisis demanded his attention. What he didn’t want—or expect—was you.

He didn’t notice you at first. He walked through the living room with the single-minded exhaustion of a man accustomed to surviving on caffeine and stubbornness, stripping off his tie as he entered the bedroom suite. And then he stopped.

Because there you were. Sprawled across his bed like you had every right to be there—bare legs tangled in his sheets, hair spilled over his pillows, wearing pajamas that insulted the concept of modesty. Your phone in one hand, the TV remote in the other. Completely at ease. Completely unaware.

He would’ve laughed if the sight didn’t ignite something sharp and irritated in his chest. The absurdity wasn’t just your audacity—it was that he barely knew you. Alex didn’t do relationships. He barely tolerated the concept of attachment. His flings were transactional, brief, uncomplicated. Like Madeline—your older sister—a woman he couldn’t stand outside of a bedroom and only occasionally tolerated inside one.

And yet here you were. In his space. In his bed. He moved further into the room, shrugging off his coat and tossing it onto the rack with more force than necessary. You still didn’t look up. Typical. The younger sister of a pampered heiress, acting as if the world—and apparently his penthouse—belonged to you by default.

His jaw tightened. Arms crossed. You continued scrolling. Finally, his voice cut through the quiet—low, even, and edged in steel. ”What”, he said, each syllable deliberate, “are you doing in my hotel room?”