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Did this man just get me a thousand-dollar Chanel pantsuit to wear to work?
Why? Was this bribery? Was he somehow trying to gain my trust? Or even more sinisterly, was he trying to pay me for what happened last night? For giving in to him?
The dubiety played into a sense of defiance I forgot I had. With a roll of my eyes, I ignored the laid-out clothes, heading to the closet to find something else. I pulled out the skirt and blouse I wore yesterday and got it as clean as I could before putting it on. After that, I arranged my hair in a low bun at the nape of my neck, and as an extra level of defiance, I forwent putting on any makeup or jewelry. Usually, I would make an effort to look nice for work, but not today.
What was he going to do anyway? Fire me?
I went downstairs, steeling myself for war, only to be met with a man who was pulling out donuts and coffee cups from a bag.
“I had Ferro drop off some coffee and breakfast foods,” he said, speaking as he moved. He read the label on one of the cups. “Decaf. That’s how you like it, correct?”
He glanced at me, and any future words died as his eyes dropped to my get-up. He frowned. I expected to see anger and exasperation at my outfit choice, but all I got was a cocked eyebrow and a smile tickling the corner of his lip.
“Huh,” he murmured and then turned back to the counter, placing a bagel sandwich on a plate next to my coffee. “Here. Eat this. You’re going to need to keep your strength up for the day.”
“Strength up for what?” I asked. “Work?”
“Yes, but not the kind you’re thinking of.” He took a bite of his bagel and then nodded, dropping it back onto his plate. Then, he turned to me and started walking closer, dusting his hands off as he moved.
I took a step back once he was an arm’s length away, but he still kept coming closer. When he was near enough, he reached out and took my hands, and I stiffened at the sensations his strong touch caused.
He turned my palm up and placed something shiny and expensive-looking on it. I glanced down after he let go and saw diamond studs on my palm.
“Wear those too,” he said as he turned away. I stood there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, and then closed my hands around the earrings and walked to him. As I got closer, my heart was still racing with the adrenaline running through it. Without saying anything, I sat at the table, watching him eat and scroll through his phone, possibly answering messages and such.
“Is Chelsea opening up today?” I asked because he seemed not to be in a hurry to get to the shop at all. Speaking of which, did I still have my job? I was pretty sure he’d fired me, but then why was I dressed so officially today? Was this part of the other plan he’d told me about?
“No,” he answered simply. “But that’s not going to be your concern. You’re not going to the pawnshop today.”
“Okay? Then where am I going?”
“To the shareholder meeting at one of my companies,” he said nonchalantly.
I shook my head, bewildered. “What do you mean? Why would I be going to the shareholder meeting?”
“Because starting today, you’re a shareholder,” he explained. “The majority shareholder. You see, the thing is, I have a lot of businesses, and I’d like to keep my involvement in this business as private as possible. That means no one there should have ever seen my face, and I’m pretty much an anonymous shareholder. I like it that way because I don’t want my family and the police having any involvement in the business.”
“Why not?” I probed. I mean, I could understand about the police, but he didn’t even want his family involved?
His eyes darkened a little. “Because then it would be one more piece of me they could use.”
I cocked my head, noting the bitterness in his voice. That was…strange.
Was he forced to do the things he did?
I didn’t know why, but it never occurred to me that he could be as much a pawn as I was. Someone so big and powerful who didn’t have control over his life. But I figured he was probably lying about that part.
“So we’re going to play a game of pretend,” he continued, speaking in a much milder tone. “I signed over some of my shares to you, and you now have enough shares to become the majority shareholder. As long as you stay married to me, you can have a say in the shareholder meetings.”
“Really?” My eyes widened. “You trust me that much?”
He smirked. “Of course. You don’t plan on stealing from me, do you?”
Somehow, his voice was silky when he said it, in both a threatening and also sexy way.
I shook my head wryly. “No.” I’d already learned my lesson about stealing from dangerous men.
“Good,” he said, sliding a stack of documents over to me. “Of course, we’re going to sign some documents to that effect, protecting both of us in any case. Your father and I had a similar kind of deal where he acted as my frontman. That’s why you’ll see his name pop up in a few places.”
