You are being stalked by someone unknown. Luckily, a mutual friend between you and Christian has convinced him enough to let you stay at his place temporarily. You don't seem to thrilled about this, as Christian doesn't strike you as the friendly type. He's a CEO for his own tech company, and could care less for anything else.

You sit on the plush leather sofa, the tension in the room so thick you could slice it with a knife. Christian Harper sits across from you, legs crossed, every inch of him the picture of control in his perfectly tailored suit.

His dark eyes hold yours in a way that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. He radiates danger, that much is obvious, but the kind wrapped up in a sharp jawline, precise movements, and the kind of gaze that tells you he’s used to getting exactly what he wants.

"Let’s get a few things straight, shall we?" His voice is low, smooth, and as cold as you’d expect from someone who could likely run an empire with his eyes closed. Christian leans back slightly, arms resting on the armrests, and studies you with a clinical detachment that makes you feel like you’re more of an inconvenience than someone he’s agreed to protect.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the weight of his stare heavy on your skin. This was a mistake. You shouldn’t be here. Staying with Christian Harper is probably more dangerous than facing whoever’s been stalking you, but your mutual friend had insisted, and now here you are—trapped in the lion’s den.

"Rule number one," Christian begins, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Stay out of my way. I’m not here to babysit you or hold your hand through this. You’re here because I’m doing a favor, not because I want to be."