Chapter 249 - 0249: I Want To Show You Off

Chapter 249: Chapter 0249: I Want To Show You Off

Jaxx’s Point Of View

I was supposed to be checking something on my phone.

Emails. Messages. A handful of urgent updates that had come in from people who apparently believed their business crises couldn’t survive the night without my immediate, undivided attention. Important memos from Roman sat right at the top of the inbox, flashing like little warning lights, each one demanding a response I had no intention of giving.

Under normal circumstances, I would have already answered three of them and moved on to the next fire that needed putting out. Tonight, none of that mattered.

I had noticed the notifications earlier, vibrating against my palm while I sat at the edge of the mattress. Normally, I would have torn through them without a second thought. Roman didn’t send messages just to chat, and anything that came from him usually meant hard numbers, tactical moves, or something requiring a split-second decision. He’d probably assume the worst if I didn’t respond soon... that I was dead, kidnapped, or otherwise incapacitated. Let him wonder. There was a strange, quiet satisfaction in imagining his growing frustration, in picturing him pacing his office, phone in hand, cursing my name. For once, someone else could sit with the discomfort of being ignored.

Tonight, however, those emails could sit in digital purgatory. Roman could wait. Because what was happening right in front of me commanded every single drop of my focus, and nothing short of an actual emergency was going to pull my eyes away from her.

In fact, I hadn’t read a single word of text in the last five minutes.

The screen in my hand dimmed on its own, sliding into a dark, inactive mirror. My thumb hovered over the glass without moving, the faint blue glow reflecting across my skin, but my eyes had already left it. My attention wasn’t on the phone anymore.

It was entirely on her.

Elena stood a few feet away near the vanity, wrapped in a plush, oversized robe. A white towel draped loosely around her damp shoulders while she held a hair dryer, running it slowly through her dark hair. The warm hum of the motor filled the bedroom with a steady, white noise that carved out a little world of our own, making everything outside these walls feel distant and irrelevant.

For a man who spent most of his waking hours calculating risk and leverage, there was something unfamiliar in how easily she commanded my attention without even trying. I’d negotiated multimillion-dollar deals without so much as a flicker of distraction, yet here I sat, undone by the simple sight of a woman drying her hair.

It was the kind of quiet that crept up on you. The kind that made you notice the small, insignificant details you’d usually overlook in the rush of daily life... the curve of her wrist, the small furrow of concentration between her brows, the way she existed so fully in this ordinary moment without any awareness of being watched. I wondered, not for the first time, how someone could carry so much quiet grace without ever seeming to notice it in herself.

She moved without overthinking it. One hand gripped the handle of the dryer, the other lifted and separated the damp strands, letting the warm air catch them. Her reflection stared back at her in the wide mirror...lm ca, focused, entirely unaware of the subtle chaos she caused just by existing in my space. I found myself wondering how long it had been since anyone had looked at her the way I was looking at her now, like she was something worth memorizing. The thought settled uncomfortably in my chest, a quiet anger at every person who’d failed to see what I saw so plainly now.

I leaned my back against the padded headboard, one arm resting casually behind my head, watching her every move. I studied her like she was a puzzle I actually wanted to solve. The phone finally slipped from my lax fingers, hitting the mattress beside my leg with a dull thud. I didn’t even bother looking down to pick it up.

Damn it.

She was devastatingly beautiful. And the worst part was, she didn’t even know it.

This wasn’t the loud, curated kind of beauty people bragged about in high-society circles - not the kind that reeked of vanity and hours spent in front of a stylist. Elena had something far more dangerous. Effortless beauty. The kind that crawled under your skin and settled into your bones without asking permission. The kind that could make a grown man completely forget what he was in the middle of saying halfway through a sentence.

I’d built an empire on staying one step ahead of everyone in the room, and yet here she was, scrambling my thoughts with nothing more than a hair dryer and a bathrobe. It should have unsettled me more than it did, this loss of control. Instead, I found I didn’t mind it at all.

The low hum of the dryer paused for a second as she tilted her head to the side, running her fingers through the ends of her hair to check the drying progress.

My eyes tracked the movement instantly.

The dark strands slipped slowly between her fingers, catching the warm light bouncing off the vanity mirror. A few wet, wayward pieces curled naturally against the smooth skin of her neck, clinging to the curve of her throat. I felt something tighten low in my stomach, an ache that had nothing to do with patience and everything to do with restraint.

I let out a slow, heavy breath through my nose.

"I’m really not reading those emails tonight," I muttered under my breath.

Roman’s warnings could rot in the server for all I cared. Right now, there were far more distracting things demanding my attention. She kept moving the nozzle of the dryer, humming a faint, formless melody under her breath, completely lost in her own routine.

The tune was barely audible over the appliance, but it filled the empty space between us with an easy, domestic rhythm - the kind of unguarded moment she probably hadn’t allowed herself in years. There was something achingly tender about catching her like this, soft and unperformed, humming to herself as though no one in the world was watching. Meanwhile, my patience was wearing thin. My gaze stayed locked on her profile. Five seconds passed. Then a minute. Then another. My fingers tapped a slow, restless beat against the mattress fabric.

This was getting ridiculous.

I shifted my weight and sat up.

She didn’t even blink. Still brushing through her damp locks, still staring into the mirror like she was the only human being in the room. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the hardwood floor. Still nothing.

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Fine. If she wasn’t going to acknowledge me on her own, I’d just have to remind her I was here.

I stood up, crossing the bedroom in three silent strides, and stopped right behind her chair. The vanity mirror betrayed me instantly, catching my reflection as I closed the distance. For a split second, she froze mid-motion, her hands pausing as if she had only just remembered she wasn’t alone in the penthouse.

I leaned in, resting my face close enough that my voice brushed softly against the shell of her ear.

"Hey, Bambina."

The hair dryer slowed in her hand, the motor whining down a notch.

"You seriously have no idea what you do to me just standing there looking like that, do you?"

Her brows pulled together in a slight, confused frown as she met my eyes through the glass.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, waving the dryer slightly as if trying to clear the air between us. "I’m just drying my hair, Jaxx."

I let out another slow breath, my gaze dropping from her eyes to the reflection of her collarbone.

Exactly. That was the entire problem.

I placed both hands lightly on the edges of the marble vanity behind her, caging her in without actually touching her yet. I was close enough to feel the radiating warmth of her skin, close enough to catch the clean, intoxicating scent of her shampoo mixed with the steam of the bathroom.

"Exactly," I murmured, my voice dropping an octave. She tilted her chin up slightly. "You don’t even realize the power you have, princess. It isn’t fair."

She watched me through the mirror now, her expression turning cautious, waiting to see where I was going with this.

"For you to look this damn good without even trying," I continued, my voice low and steady. "It should honestly be a crime."

I shifted closer, the heat of my chest nearly brushing the back of her robe.

"I want you all to myself, Elena."

Her lips curved slowly at the edges, fighting back a small, knowing smirk. Instead of shrinking away, she turned her head just a fraction, keeping her eyes locked on mine in the glass.

"Then you’ll have to impress me for that to happen, won’t you?"

I raised a single dark eyebrow at the challenge in her tone.

"Oh?"

Her smile widened just a fraction, a flash of pure mischief lighting up her eyes.

"Yes."

The sheer confidence rolling off her made something tighten deep in my chest, a hot spike of desire that had been building all evening. It struck me, not for the first time, how far she’d come from the guarded woman I first met... how easily she met me now, challenge for challenge, without flinching. I remembered the way she used to shrink from attention, the way compliments once made her flinch like they were accusations. Seeing her like this, bold and unafraid, felt like witnessing something sacred. A low chuckle rumbled in my throat.

I closed the remaining space between us.

My face moved toward the side of her neck, my lips brushing gently against the sensitive skin right below her ear. I felt her breath hitch in her chest. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the dryer until her knuckles went pale.

"Are you really challenging me on that right now, princess?" I whispered against her skin, my voice vibrating right against her pulse point.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror again, dark and unyielding. The smirk didn’t fade for a second.

"Yes," she said calmly, her voice barely above a breath. "I am."

A deeper, richer laugh left my chest, echoing softly in the quiet room.

"You’re dangerous, Bambina."

She shrugged one shoulder beneath the plush fabric of the robe.

"I know."

I straightened up just an inch, though I didn’t step away. My hand slid from the vanity, my fingers brushing lightly along her forearm before coming to rest firmly at her waist. The hair dryer had stopped completely now, hanging uselessly down in her hand.

Silence rushed back in to fill the room, heavy and thick. It was that specific kind of quiet that settles between two people who are both thinking about the exact same thing, neither one willing to break the spell first.

I let out a soft, reluctant sigh.

"As much as I’d love to lock you in this room with me for the next week..." My eyes searched her face in the reflection. "...that’s not enough anymore."

She blinked, her expression shifting from playful to curious.

"To who?"

"To everyone."

My jaw tightened, the protective, possessive edge in my voice sharpening. I thought of every room she’d ever walked into unnoticed, every moment her worth had gone unclaimed by the people who should have seen it first, and something in me rebelled against the thought of that continuing a single day longer. I wanted the whole world to see what I saw - to finally understand what they’d overlooked for so long.

"And most especially your husband."

The air in the room seemed to freeze instantly. The playful tension snapped, replaced by something much heavier, much more real. A faint, sudden flush crept up her cheeks, staining her skin pink under the bathroom lights.

"I want him to see," I continued, my tone dropping into something flat and uncompromising. "The masterpiece he was too blind and arrogant to keep. I want him to watch the woman he discarded shining right here - right in another man’s arms."

Her eyes dropped briefly to the counter before lifting back to meet mine. The shift in the atmosphere was palpable. When she spoke again, all the teasing edge was gone, replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable.

"You really want to do that?"

I held her gaze steady, not letting her look away.

"Yes."

I leaned down once more, bringing my mouth right to the curve of her shoulder, letting my voice drop to a low, gravelly promise against her skin.

"My grandfather’s birthday is next week."

She turned her body slightly on the stool now, finally abandoning the mirror to face me head-on, her eyes wide with surprise.

"And?"

My gaze stayed locked onto hers, refusing to give an inch.

"I want you to go with me."