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It’s like succumbing to his power.
He owns the room with his silent presence and commanding stare. I take him in as he sits behind his massive desk with his back ramrod straight and hands splayed on the arms of the chair. It’s like seeing a dark lord sitting on his throne.
He even appears like he’s about to declare a war.
And his innocent victim…
Me.
“Just in time,” he taunts, and before I can sass him, he issues another command. “Lock the door, kitten.”
Chapter Eleven
DASH
Everyone says your whole life flashes before your eyes when you’re moments from death.
Yet my past—good and bad—seems to haunt me whenever I’m close to Bianca.
The tempting woman brings back the nightmares I want to keep buried. She’s bringing back to life the ruckus that disrupted my life seven years ago: the damn rush of forbidden and twisted feelings I fought with every fiber of my being.
Yet I still fell prey to them anyway.
The worst part is that she’s so beautifully unaware of the power she has over me that it makes me lose my carefully crafted control. I never once have, and yet she’s made me lose it twice already, like it’s a mere illusion.
It’s just like it was in the past where I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her whenever we were in the same room. Every time I walk away, I promise myself to stay away, only for me to pull her closer the next second.
I still have no intention of being her savior and becoming her fake husband, though.
After I had left that day, I researched her father and found everything she shared were true. The man is an old misogynistic prick who firmly believes a woman’s life isn’t complete until she’s married. I shouldn’t give two fucks about whether she finds a way out of the mess she’s in.
It’s a headache I don’t need.
Yet the thought of her asking another man has my vision going black.
“Why? There’s no one else on this floor.” Her nervous voice penetrates through my fog of fury, and I remember my command.
“Because I said so.” My voice is hard.
I wait for her defiance to surface but instead she disappoints me by doing as she is told. It’s not as much fun when she meekly obeys. I’ve always been addicted to her sass and fire, even while she dated Niall.
He always treated her like she was made of porcelain, and I hated when she let him.
Her inquisitive eyes take in my semi-furnished office while I admire her curves, especially her tits that shake even at the slightest movement. It seems my rejection stung her because she’s dressed like she makes me want to regret my decision.
Well, you came close, kitten.
When I saw her standing close to Justin and laughing with him, I wanted to pummel the man into the ground. At that moment, it didn’t matter if he was someone who’s been with me through thick and thin.
She stood beside him looking like a wet dream and when she touched him, it took years of restraint to not yank her to my side.
I swear, no other woman has made me insane with petty jealousy.
Except Bianca.
My beautiful kryptonite.
My gaze locks on her silky hair spilling down her back in rivulets as she walks. The sunlight makes her tresses almost appear brown. Unlike last time, she’s wearing a black pencil skirt with a silk blouse tucked inside. The material molds to her ample curves while showcasing her lean legs that look a mile long.
