Elowen's POV

The morning light filtered through the expansive windows of the penthouse, casting a warm glow across the luxurious space. I blinked awake, momentarily disoriented as I took in the plush furnishings and sleek décor that surrounded me. It still felt surreal to be living here, a stark contrast to the cramped quarters of my past. The open-plan living area featured a contemporary design, with soft grey sofas adorned with colorful cushions and large, abstract art pieces that added a touch of vibrancy to the otherwise minimalist aesthetic. A state-of-the-art kitchen gleamed in the corner, its stainless steel appliances promising culinary adventures I wasn't quite ready for.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet sinking into the soft carpet as I stood. The view from the windows was nothing short of breathtaking. The city stretched out below, the skyline punctuated by towering buildings that sparkled in the morning light. I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation—a reminder of my new reality.

After a quick shower, I dressed in a fitted blouse and tailored trousers, hoping to strike a balance between professional and approachable. The familiar flutter of nerves danced in my stomach as I tied my hair back into a neat bun, and I took a moment to breathe deeply, reminding myself to stay calm around the brothers.

By giving me space, the brothers had meant making me their new neighbour in their posh apartment complex. So, when I had to report for work, I would be doing that right next door. Did the convenience make me less angry? Definitely. 

As I stepped out of my penthouse, the cool air of the hallway greeted me. I walked down the sleek corridor, my heart racing slightly with each step. When I reached their door, I paused, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. I had no idea what to expect from today, but I knew I needed to remain composed.

I knocked gently, and a moment later, the door swung open to reveal Zander, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. His expression was serious, a hint of concern lurking beneath the surface. "Elowen," he greeted, his voice low and steady. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Good morning" I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. I stepped inside, taking in the office's refined décor—dark wood furniture, shelves lined with books, and large windows offering a view of the city.

"Have a seat," he instructed, gesturing toward the sleek desk. I hesitated but obeyed, perching on the edge of the chair as I tried to read his expression.

"Are you ready for today?" he asked, his tone firm but lacking the usual playfulness.

"I suppose so," I answered cautiously. "What do you need me to do?"

Zander leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "We have some meetings scheduled, and I'd like you to take notes and observe. It's important that you gain a deeper understanding of how our work operates."

"Okay," I said slowly, trying to mask the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. "I'll do my best."

He studied me for a moment, his gaze intense. "I know things have been... complicated between us, but I want you to know that I'm here to support you. We all are."

His words surprised me, and I met his gaze with equal intensity. "Support doesn't erase what happened, Zander. I still need time to process everything."

"I understand," he replied, his voice steady. "But I hope you'll see that we're committed to earning your trust. Today is a step in that direction."

I nodded, unsure of how to respond. I couldn't shake the feeling that, despite his efforts, there was still a wall between us.

Zander's expression softened slightly. "Just try to focus on the tasks at hand. I'll guide you through everything. We're in this together, Elowen."

As he spoke, I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest—a reminder that beneath his intense exterior, there was a deep-seated desire to make things right. It was a small spark, but for now, it was enough.

The day progressed with a series of meetings that showcased Zander's sharp intellect and commanding presence. I watched as he navigated complex negotiations with ease, his confidence contagious. Yet, as the hours passed, I couldn't shake the feeling of tension that hung between us—an unspoken acknowledgment of the rift that still lingered.

"Are you ready to go?" Zander asked as we wrapped up the last meeting of the day. He gathered his papers and glanced at me, his expression serious.

"Go where?" I replied, my curiosity piqued.

"There's a client we need to meet at a café nearby. It's an informal setting to make them feel more comfortable, and clients usually tend to give out information more willingly then. It's a questioning tactic which works wonders," he explained.

"Sure," I said, trying to suppress the flutter of nerves in my stomach.

As we stepped out into the bustling city, the cool breeze brushed against my skin. The café was just a few blocks away, and we walked side by side, the weight of the silence between us palpable. Zander kept glancing at me, as if he were searching for the right words but couldn't find them.

When we arrived, the café was lively, filled with the chatter of customers and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Zander led me to a quiet corner where our client was already seated, a middle-aged man with a friendly demeanor. They exchanged greetings, and I took a seat, observing the interaction.

The conversation flowed smoothly, and I felt myself getting drawn into the world of corporate law as they discussed case details and strategies. Zander's professionalism shone through, his words precise and compelling. I was impressed by how he managed to balance the seriousness of their business with an easygoing charm.

But as we finished up and stepped back out onto the street, I couldn't shake a feeling of unease that settled in my stomach. I sensed that something was off, a prickling sensation at the back of my neck.

"Everything okay?" Zander asked, glancing sideways at me, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Yeah, just a feeling," I replied, shaking it off.

As we walked, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Suddenly, a group of men emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. My heart raced as I took in their aggressive postures and the hardened looks on their faces.

"Well, if it isn't the lawyer boy," one of them sneered, stepping forward with a malicious grin. "Thought you could just walk around here without consequences?"

Zander's jaw tightened, and he instinctively moved closer to me. "What the fuck do you want?" he demanded, his tone low and dangerous.

"We want a little chat," the leader spat, his eyes narrowing. "You're the one who put my brother away. He's still rotting in prison because of you."

I felt a chill run down my spine as Zander's expression hardened. "That was justice, not revenge," he replied coolly. "Your brother deserves every single second of that sentence, trying to mess with little girls."

The man laughed, but it was a hollow sound filled with rage. "You think you can just hide behind your fancy law degrees and get away with it? Not a chance."

Before I could react, they surrounded us, closing in with a menacing intensity. Zander shifted into a protective stance, positioning himself between me and the nearest assailant.

"Get the fuck out of our way," Zander growled, and I could see the tension radiating off him.

The leader lunged forward, but Zander was faster, delivering a swift kick that sent the man stumbling back. The fight erupted in an instant, and I watched in awe as Zander moved with a grace that belied his size, taking on multiple opponents at once.

He ducked and weaved, throwing punches and kicks with precision. Each strike was fueled by adrenaline, and for a moment, it felt like he was invincible. But then, in the chaos, I saw the flash of metal as one of the men pulled out a knife.

"Zander, watch out!" I screamed, my heart dropping as I saw the blade flash through the air.

He barely had time to react before the knife nicked his arm. I gasped, fear surging through me as I watched him stagger back, a look of shock crossing his face. Blood seeped through his shirt, and the sight made my stomach turn.

"Shit!" he hissed, pressing a hand to his arm. But there was no time to focus on his injury. He continued to fight, unleashing a fury that I had never witnessed before. He moved with a determination that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Come on, you fuckers! Is that all you've got?" Zander taunted, his voice laced with adrenaline as he knocked one man out cold and turned to face the others.

The gang members exchanged nervous glances, clearly realizing that they had underestimated him. Zander lunged forward, taking down another assailant with a powerful punch.

"Now, are you going to back the fuck off, or do you want me to make this a lot worse for you?" he shouted, the intensity in his eyes making it clear that he meant every word.

With a final push, Zander sent the last man crashing to the ground, and the remaining thugs scrambled away, fear written all over their faces. They disappeared into the shadows, leaving us standing there, the adrenaline still pumping through Zander's veins.

Once they were gone, I turned back to Zander, my heart pounding in my chest. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling as I inspected the cut above his elbow.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he tried to brush it off.

"You need to get that checked out," I urged, my concern growing.

Zander shook his head, still trying to maintain his composure. "I'm not going anywhere until I make sure you're safe."

"But you're hurt!" I argued, feeling a mix of frustration and worry.

He looked at me, his expression softening for a brief moment before hardening again. "I'll be fine. I promise."

As we stood there, the reality of what had just happened hung heavy in the air. I couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and fear for Zander. He had faced danger head-on to protect me, and yet I was terrified of what it meant for all of us.

"Let's just get you to the office," he said, turning to lead the way. "I'll get the cut checked there."

As we made our way back, I couldn't shake the feeling that the fight had changed something between us—a shift in our dynamics that left me feeling both vulnerable and inexplicably drawn to him.