“Insurance. Investment.” His thumb traces along my jaw. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“I’m not something you can buy.”
“Everyone has a price, Bea. The question is just what currency they accept. Your grandmother is safe now. Yourdebts won’t drown you. Your life isn’t a countdown to poverty anymore.”
“So, what, I’m supposed to be grateful?”
“You’re supposed to be smart. We can do this the hard way. You fight, I push back, we exhaust each other. Or you accept that the only way out is through me.”
I try to step back. His hand holds me in place.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “What the hell do you want from me?”
He laughs.
“That’s a stupid question.” His eyes drop to my lips. “You already know the answer. You figured it out days ago.”
“I don’t?—”
“You’re three inches away from your half-naked boss in his penthouse at one AM.” He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “What do you think happens next?”
My heart pounds. I feel it in my throat. In my chest. Between my legs.
“I don’t have feelings for you.”
“Good.” His hand slides to the back of my neck. “I didn’t ask for feelings.”
I should say something.
I open my mouth?—
He kisses me.
No hesitation. No question.
There’s nothing tentative about it. No space to think, no room to decide. It’s immediate, certain—like this was inevitable and we’ve both been circling it for too long.
His hand slides into my hair, guiding, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss. The other pulls me closer, closing the distance until there’s barely anything separating us.
I don’t step back.
I don’t stop him.
My hands find him instead—his hair, his shoulders—holding on without thinking about it too much.
The realization flickers, then fades.
I’m kissing him back.
He pulls away just enough to look at me.
“Good girl.”
It shouldn’t land the way it does.
But it does.
Something low and immediate, tightening in a way I don’t have time to analyze.
