C27 Jealousy, jealousy

SYDNEY

The morning sunlight streamed through my floor-to-ceiling windows, but it couldn’t illuminate the storm brewing in my mind. Today was the day. The plan. My scheme to snag Alaric, to finally get him to notice me in the way I wanted.

And the tool I’d chosen? A little thing called jealousy.

I paced back and forth in my apartment, my crimson heels clicking against the marble floor. I’d instructed Paige to schedule a “red carpet function” for the company, something completely plausible for my CEO image, something “work-related” that would allow Alaric to attend without suspicion. And of course, I’d invited Andy under the guise of… well, being my date, of course.

Paige appeared at the door, arms crossed, shaking her head but smiling anyway. “Sydney, you’re insane. You’re dragging two men—one extremely dangerous, one extremely charming—into the same event, just to make someone jealous?”

I stopped pacing and faced her, hands on my hips. “Paige, it’s strategy. Art, even. I need him to feel that spark of competition, that heat that will make him finally pay attention.”

Paige sighed. “Or it’ll blow up in your face.”

“Details, Paige. Details,” I said dismissively, smoothing the front of my fitted blazer. “Now, make sure Andy’s prepared, and tell Alaric it’s work-related. Spin it well.”

---

The gala was as glitzy and overwhelming as I’d imagined. Flashing lights, paparazzi, reporters, and socialites in every shade of designer gowns and suits filled the entrance. My heart raced as I stepped out of the car, every camera flash capturing me like I was walking on fire.

And then I spotted them.

Alaric. Standing like a statue of perfection, dark suit, arms crossed, scanning the crowd. His jaw was tight, and his eyes flicked in my direction almost immediately. I smirked. Perfect. He’d notice me, and I was going to make him burn a little.

And Andy. Calm, collected, handsome in a quiet way, the kind of man who exuded safety and stability. He was already at the red carpet entrance, smiling politely at the media, completely unaware—or so I hoped—of the storm about to hit.

I allowed my hand to brush Andy’s as I walked toward him. “You look amazing,” I said lightly, keeping my tone casual but flirty.

He chuckled. “And you, Sydney, look like trouble.”

I grinned. “Trouble tends to find me. Or maybe I find it.” My gaze flicked toward Alaric, who was now observing us with an intensity that made my stomach tighten.

---

Andy and I began chatting, laughing, and posing for cameras. I let my hand linger slightly on his arm, deliberately brushing him in a way that I knew Alaric would notice. And he did.

Alaric’s eyes darkened, and I felt the heat of his attention like a flame against my skin. His jaw tightened, and his posture stiffened. He was clearly bothered, and the thought thrilled me. Finally—finally!—he was reacting to me.

Andy leaned close, his voice low. “You’re unusually flirtatious tonight, Sydney.”

I tilted my head, letting a teasing smile play across my lips. “Is that a problem?”

He smirked faintly. “Not necessarily. But I hope it’s for the right reasons.”

I laughed softly. “Maybe I just like making certain people uncomfortable.” My eyes flicked to Alaric again, and I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Victory.

---

Before I could fully savor it, Alaric appeared at my side like a shadow, his presence suddenly overpowering. “Sydney,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “What are you doing?”

I smiled sweetly, tilting my head. “Work-related, of course. Can’t you tell?”

His gaze swept to Andy, then back to me, and I could see the flash of something primal—territorial, protective, furious. “Work-related?” he repeated, his tone carrying a dangerous edge. “Is that why you’re clinging to him?”

I laughed lightly, trying to appear nonchalant, even as my heart raced. “Andy’s just… company. Strictly professional.”

Alaric’s jaw tightened. “Professional?” His eyes burned into mine. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

I smirked, daring him. “And what am I doing?”

“Testing me,” he growled. “Trying to make me jealous. Provoking me. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

I felt a thrill ripple through me, a mix of fear and excitement. He knew every damn thing! Nothing ever passed him. “Maybe I want you to feel something, Alaric. Maybe I want you to admit you like me.”

Alaric’s face darkened, and suddenly the air between us crackled. He leaned so close I could feel his warmth, the tension radiating off him in waves. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Sydney.”

---

I had planned this moment carefully, every move, every glance, every calculated touch meant to ignite jealousy. But Alaric wasn’t reacting as I expected. He wasn’t flustered, he wasn’t begging for attention—he was furious. And not the playful kind of fury I imagined, but a dark, territorial, utterly controlling type of fury that made my pulse pound.

I tried to smile, even joke, to diffuse it. “Relax, Alaric. It’s just a gala. Just… business, remember?”

His eyes narrowed. “Business?” he repeated, voice dripping ice. “Do you think this is a joke? That you can toy with me and walk away unscathed?”

Andy, oblivious to the tension, glanced at me curiously. “Sydney… is everything okay?”

I gave him a reassuring smile, though my stomach churned. “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

Alaric leaned closer, voice low and dangerous. “I’ve warned you. Stop testing me, Sydney, or there will be consequences.”

---

I smiled, heart hammering, cheeks flushed. “Consequences? I like consequences.”

His jaw tightened, eyes smoldering. And I knew… I had gone too far.

Somewhere deep inside, a part of me thrilled at the challenge. Alaric wasn’t just a man; he was a storm, and I was standing right in the middle of it.

But as cameras flashed and reporters called my name, I realized one terrifying truth: I wasn’t sure who would win this game—me or him.

And for the first time, I feared that maybe, just maybe, I’d fallen in too deep.

---